#stop i need iwaizumi so bad

[illuminiscentboba]

will iwaizumi get the memo? (he will, finally omfg)

plot: where you so obviously like him to the point that even oikawa is well aware of this crush but iwaizumi misinterprets your relationship with oikawa and is proven otherwise

its another rough day of studying, forcing yourself to read just another page before you give in but your mind already drifted elsewhere, the words your reading not actually flowing comprehensively in your head.

you had plans after this, plans to see iwaizumis childhood pictures with oikawa. you had helped the unserious volleyball freak run errands among other favors and he had offered you favors you could cash in whenever you wanted.

and today was the day, you were hoping to see a stunning, tan skin buff guy cooking at oikawas apartment but if he didn't come at least you would be able to look at the pictures.

packing up your bag with haste, you rushed to catch the train, already mentally preparing yourself for all the teasing you would get from the brunette as you melted at their childhood pictures.

you can already hear his coos and "you want him so bad," "simp" especially with how smug he looked whenever you guys were in the room together, god forbid how obvious and irritating he was when you guys would talk and do activities together.

Thankfully, his place wasn't far, you knocked and a long duration of time passed, before you knocked again, maybe they didn't hear you? you continued to wait, still nothing.

finally just as you were about to spam call your friend, the door swung open, apologies flowing out of the mans mouth, but not your friends mouth. a different mans mouth, his damp hair drooping, his lips curling into a half smile. "hey, y/n. shittykawa told me you were coming."

"hey." you greeted back, beating oikawa up in your head. "sorry if I made you rush out of the shower, he told me he'd be here by now."

"no problem, I looked kind of crazy earlier so I'm glad he told me so that I could freshen up." he freshened up because he heard you were coming? you tried not to let the delusions go to your head as he, picked your heavy bag swiftly off your shoulder, headed down the hall. he picked up a towel propped on the counter to continue drying his hair.

you made yourself comfortable on the sofa, trying to spot where your enemy, you mean oikawa, put the photoalbum.

iwaizumi watched your curious glances around the room. he had been wanting to hang out with you one on one and if this was the chance he'd be dumb not to take it. he reached into the drawer, pulling out the thick albums.

"looking for this?" he headed over with two albums, one with a baby plastered over it, the other with volleyballs on it.

"yeah, did he tell you to give me this too?" that sneaky man. "yeah, but he didn't tell me which one." that was a lie, oikawa had insisted he bring out the album he had with the two of them but why would you want to see that when there was already an album with just oikawa you could see.

he slumped into the sofa next to you the album with him and oikawa on his lap as he handed you the other one.

you flipped it open, trying not to think about how close you guys were and the way he leaned closer to see. you flipped through one page, then another then a few more, your pace quickening. did oikawa get confused? and thought you wanted to see him and not the sexy man beside you that you talk about eveyr week?

"wait slow down,"

"oh sorry, let me go back."

"no thats not what I meant...wait didn't you want to see these pictures? aren't you going too quickly to see them?"

he turns to look you in the eyes as you force away a conflicted look, not sure how to go about this.

"here look, thats oikawa this is when he lost his first tooth and finished crying about it." he points to the page, reaching over to flip to the next one for you. and here is when he caught his first ever fish, I caught an even bigger one but I don't know where the picture of that went.

he pointed out a few more with funny stories attatched to them, enjouying your giggles, and the questions about where he was during these pictures and what other memories does he remember with them.

he found himself talking much more than usual and more about himself than oikawa. he tried to get back to the topic, but you effortlessly returned the topic back to him, who you were more curious about.

In fact the photo album was brought back to his lap, and you were hardly focused on it, watching him as he recalled the stories.

"actually...there are some photos of me and him if you want to see."

he gestured to the book under the open album on his lap and you couldn't hide your enthusiasm as he handed you the album. "oh my god." you shrieked, stretching out the letters. oikawa had told you that iwaizumi was a roundfaced, skinny little kid that expressed himself well with his eyes, his sharp tongue, never failing him over the years but god was he adorable.

"oh my gosh you guys look soooo cute!" iwaizumi is complebely flabbergasted by your reaction. you looked at oikawas childhood pictures with barely much enthusiasm, the occasional giggle or oh my god coming from your mouth as you quickly flipped though it.

but here you were closely examining the pictures with you two together. you flip through a few more at a slower pace, stealing glances at him and baby iwaizumi, the sharp, angular jawline nothing like the circular face with plumb cheeks holding objects greater than his size.

"do you think I don't look cute anymore?" he jokes, catching onto your comparison. "well, growing has done you justice." he chuckles, telling you in detail his stories of bravery in the wilderness, and the mundane, shifting closer as he explains.

"please...why do you look so happy holding up these creatures?" you say through a fit of laughter. his obsession with bugs was hard to explain, you laugh at the embarassed scratch of his neck and flush, calling him one of those bug catcher pokemon trainers you fight against your will at the start of most games.

"bugs are terrifying, now I know who to call when I see a spider."

"they aren't that bad." "yeah they are" "your missing out." he insists, a soft smile growing on his face.

you point out another of those picture of iwaizumis chest swelling with pride as he displayed other strange objects to the camera and oikawa, and he lifts his shirt, pointing to the nicks and old scars on his body from those adventures.

you run a careful hand over the scars on his arm, his voice still laced with warmth startling you. "you should bring your baby pictures next time. I want to see them."

"do you?" you lift your head from his arm, looking directly up into his eyes. "and do you want the storylines behind my pictures?"

"I sure do." he hums, shifting your hair from your face. "though they're probably not that different from your face right now."

he can't dodge your swipe with how close you guys are, catching your arms with a laugh. "are you saying im the epitome of youth?"

"no im saying you could still do some growing." now maybe you won't be showing him your baby pictures.

the door suddenly slams open, a frazzled oikawa carrying an armful of groceries, the stack of it covering his face.

"y/n?? are you here?! did you find the iwa-chan album?" iwaizumis already straightening you up and untangling your limbs, the what have I told you about bringing everything up at once by yourself coming out of his mouth before he processes oikawas words.

"wait, you came here to see my baby pictures? and not his?" oikawa barely make it to the counter with the cluster of stuff. already stepping away after he places it onto the counter, sensing he's messed up.

"well...I can explain...."

yall shld read this:

studying with a sleepy akaashi and him pulling moves on you (they're working)

[seiwas]

cw: suggestive, just iwaizumi being hot in a muscle tee, use of 'baby', sweat, unedited sawry (this is my pure carnal desire for this man)

iwaizumi hasn’t worn a muscle tee in years—

it hangs off him like a singular piece of cloth, haphazardly cut to show off as much skin as possible. slutty, the way mattsun and makki had intended for it to look when they gifted it to him in his third year of college.

which, to be fair, maybe he was one—a slut, that is. whoring himself out completely with those ‘subtle’, ‘lowkey’ thirst trap instagram stories on his fitness account. the way his skin flushed a darker peach after your joint gym days was always borderline inappropriate, the strands of his hair sticking up in what you could easily mistake as sweat-matted sex hair.

iwaizumi’s muscle tee days are well associated with him being the image of absolute sin.

but it was all for you anyway: the instagram stories he set on ‘close friends’ only, the hours he kept free so he could align his gym schedule to yours—

“oh! that’s perfect!” you beam at him, your smile completely unaware.

“yeah. it all worked out…” he casually brushes it off.

—it was oikawa's idea in the first place.

"you have to sell yourself better iwa-chan," the brunet whines over the phone.

and so he did; followed every embarrassing idea oikawa came up with, posed and posted in ways extremely un-iwaizumi, and stocked up on muscle tees. a lot of them. only for him to be called—

"simp," oikawa snorts on the call. iwaizumi groans, rolling his eyes.

—"baby," you stop dead in your tracks, your breath on hold.

yeah, he thinks, it was all worth it because this is what you call him now.

"is that—?" you inch closer, mouth falling slightly open. he thinks there are stars in your eyes as you ask, "are you wearing—?"

oh.

iwaizumi looks down at the muscle tee hanging off his body and feels a little bit exposed. he just came from the gym and he hasn't worn a muscle tee in years, his collection of them having dwindled over time. the only reason he kept this one is because of its sentimental value, and the fact that it came from makki and mattsun.

compression shirts are his thing now, which you approve of very much, but you're both in the middle of moving, and some of his clothes are still in boxes.

you approach him slowly, "is this a comeback?" the smirk on your face grows when you reach him, your hands fiddling with the fabric.

this is the same muscle tee he was wearing the first time you told him you loved him.

he moves away before you can come any closer.

"sweaty," he scrunches his nose as he takes your hands into his, kissing your fingertips.

you scoff, pressing yourself right into his chest, "even better."

your hands cling to his sides, slipping underneath the damp cotton of his muscle tee as you rake your fingers down planes of taut muscle. he shivers, breath hitching as the heat travels up his body, flushing the sides of his neck deep peach.

you peer up at him and grin, placing small pecks at the areas of his collarbone that peek through.

fucking—

his hands grip your waist, keeping you in place as he tilts his head low, lips grazing just the tip of your ear.

"don't tease," he warns, voice low and hoarse, but his hands show no signs of moving away.

notes: i would like to thank @pastelle-rabbit for asking me the hardest question of all time, otherwise this little blurb wouldn't exist

[mollyrolls]

highlights from my notes app. 30/79 and i couldn’t even finish the last chapter

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ AKAASHI KEIJI

undone ⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

she would do anything for her best friend. including, but not limited to, pretending to be his girlfriend, so he can get the attention of the girl of his dreams, as much as it hurts

PAIRING: akaashi x fem reader

STATUS: complete

TAGS/WARNING: unrequited love, fake dating, angst, pining, friends to lovers, university au, language, alcohol use, warnings may change

MDNI: will contain adult content (marked in chapter)

TAGLIST: complete this form to be added

PREVIEW: real

CHAPTER ONE: evidence

CHAPTER TWO: complications

CHAPTER THREE: close

CHAPTER FOUR: truths

CHAPTER FIVE: plans

CHAPTER SIX: act

-> SEQUEL

[jiuwi]

hiii! hope you’re doing well,, can i request a pt. 2 of them being away at training camp with kageyama, ushijima, iwaizumi, and atsumu? (by no means do u have to do all 4) i really enjoyed the first one!! thank you so much <3

THEY’RE AWAY FOR TRAINING CAMP (PT. 2)

𖦹 part 1 here! ; ft. kageyama, ushijima, iwaizumi, atsumu

notes: THANK U NONIE!! i hope you enjoy this one as well ^_^

𖦹 KAGEYAMA TOBIO

unknowingly reaches for his phone after training. sure, he’s miles away from home, yet he finds himself staring blankly at the screen for five whole minutes before hearing tsukishima snort from behind him.

“if you miss them so bad, just call. gosh, will a tiger bite your ass if you do?” tsukishima shrugs and leaves the room.

definitely feels embarrassed after tsukishima’s suggestion but agrees nonetheless.

his heart immediately flutters once he hears your voice. he hugs his knees and curls up somewhere in the corner of the room, listening to you speak.

“tobio? are you listening?” you ask for the 10th time, then as if on cue, he snores. oh.

𖦹 USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

golden retriever energy !!!

conversations with him are always:

“baby, i miss you :(”

“give me a hug once i get home please”

goes on facetime and tours you around the camp, ignoring the knowing stares of his acquiantances that are silently judging him for being all sweet and cutesy around you.

gets so clumsy while touring you around ( accidentally drops his phone, trips on a staircase, etc. )

your dynamic is basically—you asking him a question and him humming shyly in response.

𖦹 IWAIZUMI HAJIME

mr. “need you, miss you.”

late night calls are always present in your relationship

would take a midnight jog around the campus while listening to you talk about your day

ALWAYS waits for you to end the call first

“hajime?” your voice, soft and tired, silently yawns his name. he hums softly, leaning towards the speaker of his phone.

“sleepy?”

“yeah” you reply, and he smiles softly. “mn, okay. good night, let’s talk again tomorrow.” then a few seconds later, he hears your soft, peaceful breaths through the speaker, and he figured that you already fell asleep and forgot to end the call.

𖦹 MIYA ATSUMU

claims that he “misses you like crazy, it’s insane.”

definitely gets all whiny around everyone, especially osamu ( said twin later takes a picture of atsumu all splayed out on the floor and squirming like a baby )

“ew, can you stop doing that?”

“samu, you’re so mean!”

“i’ll really send this to y/n if you don’t stop.”

sighs a LOT. is also frustrated a LOT. so whoever’s practicing with him has to deal with his monster sets without a break.

[wttcsms]

did i ever tell you guys about my delinquent!iwa with a heart of gold x rich girl & oikawa's younger sister!reader?? where tooru and reader are the sheltered children of one of the wealthiest families in the prefecture meanwhile iwaizumi, who means well, can't help but run with "the wrong crowd" — they're not really all that bad. they're just boys. they're his childhood friends, of course he's sticking by them.

anyway, tooru, in typical tooru fashion, decides he wants to join their little group. your older brother has always been charming, so it's no surprise that he manages to endear himself to their little group. now your older brother is running around with the same delinquents your father criticizes at the dinner table. tooru never lets you join them, even if you beg and threaten to snitch (which you'd never do, and maybe that's why he doesn't take your threat seriously)

after a particularly nasty fight and everyone in the group has to scatter to flee from the cops, where does a bruised and battered iwa end up? hopping the gate to enter your parent's property, throwing rocks at your bedroom window. he thinks it's oikawa, but he knows he's made a mistake whenever you step out onto the balcony outside your bedroom. before he can run off, the fight he just got done with has finally taken its toll on his body and he finds himself knocking out onto the grass.

you drag him in. your parents are gone at one of their charity galas and it'll be a late night. you're home alone. you're home alone in your family's mansion, and it took all of your strength to drag this unconscious delinquent inside, and the marble floors are surely gonna get dirty, and—

—you patch him up.

you patch him up, and when he wakes up half an hour later, he's got hello kitty band-aids on and you're not letting him leave 'til he eats the ramen you made him. you're stubborn, just like your annoying older brother, so iwa begrudgingly eats the meal you took obvious care in making for him.

and somehow, he keeps finding himself coming back to you. sometimes under the guise of needing to see tooru, sometimes because you take a stern tone of voice different from your usual gentle cadence when you chastise him for getting roughed up & how if he refuses to take care of himself, at least let you apply some ointment to his cuts.

iwa knows he's in too deep, though, whenever he sees you taking care of a kitty one night.

"is that yours?" he asks, never having seen you with any pets. the kitten is cute, sure, but looks a little rough. skinnier than baby cats should be, that's for damn certain. looks almost like the strays 'round his neighborhood.

"nope. i saw her wandering around, looking all lost and lonely. she stops by occasionally, along with others."

"others?"

you nod, stroking the kitten's fur, smiling serenely as you watch her lap at the saucer of milk you provided. "there's a couple of dogs i pass by on my way to school." that explains why he once saw dog treats spill out of your school blazer pocket.

"you have a thing for taking in strays." he's joking, but his smile fades when you sadly answer him,

"yeah. but they never stay."

iwaizumi knows that in the eyes of your neighbors and the people in your social circle, he's your stray.

is he going to stay?

[darlingbabyboo]

--"what do you mean your dad doesn't like me?"

♡ Synopsis: you love your boyfriend more than anything in the world... it's too bad that your parents don't feel the same.

♡ Content: Kageyama, Tsukishima, Iwaizumi, Kenma, Suna, Atsumu. Black female reader! I don't believe that there's mentions of height but I'm writing this from my view and I'm pretty short so be wary...

♡ Notes: I actually don't remember writing this, I think I got possessed for a minute but that's okay <3. Hope y'all enjoy, it's been a minute since I wrote for Haikyuu

Kageyama

Case of a bad first meeting

Kageyama is an awkward boy okay, and there's nothing wrong with it but it kinda messes things up when your parents are introduced to him

You've been talking about your sweet caring boyfriend who loves to take care of you and supports you when things go wrong and your parents have high expectations because of how much you've been gassing him up

They follow you to one of his games, and they're very impressed by his volleyball abilities

When the game ends with Karasuno's win, they accept the interaction with Kageyama to go like this❤️🥰😊💖😘

Instead Kageyama just looks at you like 😐

And they're not the biggest fan of that

"Tobio, baby, you did so good!" You exclaim as he comes towards all of you. Your parents watch expectantly, waiting for the sour expression on his face to disappear at the sight of you. A smile, grin, laugh, something.

Instead, he nods at the compliment, and starts staring at the nonexistent spot on the floor.

They frown, that was not what they expected.

Your mother leans into your father, "I thought he would be..."

"Sweeter," Your father finishes for her. They watch the encounter with dismay. You continue to send a barrage of compliments to your boyfriend only for the other's stare at the floor to turn into a full blown glare.

"I need to go," He suddenly interrupts your ranting. They watch, hoping that he'll redeem himself with a short embrace, but he only nods at you, and offers your parents a small wave.

"Isn't he great!" You gush as you watch the setter walk back to his team.

Your parents frown, not at all.

Bonus

"Bakeyama! Their parents definitely hate you!"

"Shut up Boke!" He yells back at Hinata, rubbing his cheeks like he can erase the red from his face. He could barely look you in the eyes with you wearing his jersey. It was the first time you had ever done something like that and he reacted like an idiot!

"You're so stupid!" The shorter male giggles, "I have no idea how you got with someone!"

He snarls, "shut up shut up shut up!"

Tsukishima

Tsukishima's a great suckup, you'd think he'd be great around your parents

...no, just no

Your mama's smart and she knows a fakeass when she sees one

Tsukishima might act all nice but your mama says, 'he got the devil in his eyes' she's right lol

He can't do nothing without absolute disgust being targeted at him 😭😭😭

He could be offering to help with dinner

And she offers back a side eyes him with a scowl on her face

Tsukishima is doing his best pray for my mans 🙏🏾

"Oh, ma'am, I can help with-"

"Don't bother," your mother cuts off, holding her hand up to stop the blonde from continuing his offer, "I don't need your help." She spits out. As she leaves to the kitchen she starts muttering something about him under her breath. He can't pick it up, but he knows it's not anything good.

He gives you a desperate look, it's been like this all night. He did his best to put on a nice smile and dress the best- he begged (though he would never tell you that)- his mom to bake some pie so that he could bring it to dinner just so everything would be perfect when meeting your mom, but it was all for nothing. It was an understatement to say that she didn't like him.

She fucking hated him.

You give him a look as if to say, what can you do? You did your best to talk Kei up, but as soon as she saw him, she decided she didn't like him. You put your hand over his, resting on the table.

"I'm sorry." You whisper, feeling horrible that he had worked so hard for nothing.

"It's just- I wished she liked." He interlocks your hand and squeezes it anxiously, "I don't know what else I should do."

You open your mouth to try to comfort him, but-

"Baby get in the kitchen, your mama needs help!" In a voice that leaves no room for argument.

You wince, you know that you can't say no when your mom starts talking in that tone. You give Kei an apologetic look and his shoulders slump, burying his head in his hands.

Iwaizumi

Worst possible meeting of your boyfriend

Iwaizumi has a habit of hitting you (playfully)

Your dad just happen to catch you two when it looks like he's hitting you

He is traumatized and horrified

Shitting crying throwing up fr when your father starts to threaten to end his life if he come near you again

"Where's my favourite member of Aoba Johsai~" You sing, playfully poking his shoulder.

He puts an arm around your shoulder and pulls you into him "right here babe."

You wriggle out of his grip, "you don't look like Oikawa to me."

He rolls his eyes, "fuck you." He knocks your head, not hard enough to bruise but enough to look threatening, he laughs at your flinch.

"Coward," He mocks.

You stick out your bottom lip and just as you open your mouth to respond-

"Fuck you say about my daughter."

He gasps when someone's hand grips his upper arm. The man's eyes are filled with pure rage, and his grip tightens so hard it's almost like he's trying to tear it out of his arm. He watches the man, and in a horrifying realization he sees that the man has your eyes.

It's your dad.

Shit.

"This is not what it looks like," He sputters out, in an attempt not to look like an abusive dickhead, "we just-"

"Shut up." The man grits out, and impossibly the grip on his arm tightens even more. "if I ever see you around my little girl again, I will fucking kill you."

"Dad-" You attempt to protest.

"No." Your dad interrupts your plea, "I told you to be careful around these trashy high schoolers- about getting yourself involved in these stupid boys." He shakes Iwaizumi like a ragdoll to further emphasize his point. "I never want to see you around him again."

You eyes go wide, "Dad, wha- that's not fair!"

Your father doesn't listen to your protests, harshly pushing away Iwaizumi and grabbing your hand. You fight against it for a bit but give up when your father won't let up. You turn around to face Iwaizumi, mouthing I'm sorry.

He just nods, and as soon as you're gone he places his fist against his forehead, wondering how he could have fucked things up so much.

Kenma

I love Kenma but he's not a conventional bf

Your dad wants you to be happy but at the same time he's looking at him and thinking, really, you couldn't do any better

He can barely hide the disgust when he's playing on his video games, slouched over like the Hunchback of Notre Dame and heavy bags under his eyes

You're telling him that he's a highly valued member of his team and then he sees him get winded going up a the stairs

Okay sweetie 🤗🤗🤗

Kenma finds the hate as more of an annoyance than anything tbh

He doesn't sweat too much about it, the only reason he tries is because he doesn't like you being upset about the uneasiness between your parents and him

"Hey," He says, all he can get out before he practically collapses against you. It was a long game and all he wants to do is melt into your arms. "'s nice tha' you came." He keeps panting, just on the brink of passing out.

"Hey Kenny." You say, running a hand through his hair and pressing a gentle kiss on his forehead, "you were really good in this game."

He doesn't have the energy to thank you, all the air practically gone from his lungs, instead he nods and buries his face into your neck.

After a minute of you carding your hand through his hair you say the dreaded words, "my dad's expecting you to greet him..."

He groans, "will he accept a weak wave."

"Not at all."

He groans louder as he painfully removes himself from your gasp. he looks up to your dad, who is predictably glaring at him. He gives a weak smile and wills himself to go towards the man.

What he'll do for you.

Suna

YOUR DAD DOES NOT TRUST HIM

He does not like him around you at all and thinks his precious baby deserves to be around someone better

Your dad finds him a little too nonchalant for his taste and thinks that his baby needs to be around someone that spoils you

Suna is surprised when he's hit with the hatred bcs he didn't think he did anything???

"Rinnie, you did so good!" You exclaim, wrapping your arms around his neck, he in return wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"Thanks," He responds, pressing his lips to your forehead.

He pulls away when he hears someone clear his throat. He looks at the other man, he looks like the spitting image of you. A smile creeps up his lips at how similar you look to your father.

He nods to him as a greeting.

Your father does not accept that.

"You too good for a handshake?" The man questions.

He opens his mouth, instinctively ready for a snappy remark, but he immediately closes it when your father glares. This is, apparently, no laughing matter, and he really doesn't feel like making things worse. Instead, he pulls his hand forward.

"Hey, I'm Suna Rintaro." He introduces.

"Hey." Your father mockingly echos (he exchanges a quick glance with you, did he do something? Why does the man already hate him), but he still accepts the handshake.

He winces when the older man squeezes, strong grip feeling like he's trying to tear his arm off. He drops his hand and puts it in his pocket, trying to shrug off the burning feel.

"Strong grip there Sir." He remarks, trying to make it come across light-hearted.

The other man doesn't show any positive reaction. "It's the grip of a man."

"Or a serial killer." He mutters. Apparently, not quiet enough, as you wince and the vein on your father's forehead bulges out in anger.

"We'll talk later, okay Rinnie." You say, offering an escape. He smiles, grateful for the opening. He'll take his escape while he still can.

"I'll see you later angel." He presses another kiss to your forehead and leaves, pretending he doesn't notice the glare of your father. That's something for another day.

Atsumu

Poor guy had no idea that your dad did not f with him 😭😭😭

He loves both your parents!

They gave birth to you and you're the greatest person ever!!! Of course he loves them

But apparently the hate is on sight with them

He starts to walk over and he starts scowling 😒

When you asked your dad why they didn't like Atsumu, he just clucked and said

'That blonde boy ain't right,' your dad muttered and offered NO OTHER INFO

"Hey princess, you like the match?" He smacks a kiss to your cheek and wraps a hand around your waist, "scored that last point for you."

"Just the last point?" You tease. "Were the other points for your other girlfriends."

"No other girls but you princess." He says, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

Your interrupted by your dad clearing his throat, very loudly.

You two break apart, and you offer your parents a sheepish glance.

"Are you going to introduce us honey?" Your mom says, with an odd look in her eyes that Atsumu can't decipher.

"Mom, dad, this is Miya Atsumu, the boy I've been talking about so much."

"It's a pleasure to meet you two." Atsumu says, giving his widest, kindest, toothiest grin.

Your mother gives him a weak smile back, while your father just watches him, like a predator looks at its prey before snapping its neck.

He waits for the two to respond, but they just keep staring.

After a few moments of nothing he coughs, "would you two like to join us for lunch- I'd like to celebrate my win with my favourite girl and her parents."

You giggle at that, but your parents show no reaction.

"It's getting awfully late for lunch." Your father says gruffly.

He laughs, "it's only 7."

Your father doesn't share his humour. He turns to you, "I don't want you out so late with some guy."

He bites his tongue at the last part, some guy? He's thinks you two have been together enough to be more than some guy.

"It's not even that late." You whine.

"The sun's about to set."

"It's only 7!" You reiterate, you turn to your mom, "Mama please!"

Your mom shakes her head, "I think you should listen to your father. It's getting late, and you should be careful who you share your company with." She gives a pointed glance to Atsumu.

It's like someone reached into his chest and ripped out his heart. He forces himself to smile, "ya'know, we don't need to celebrate today, I'll let ya get back home princess."

"But 'tsumu-" You attempt to protest.

"It's fine." He interrupts. He plays nonchalant and shrugs, "there are other days."

He grasps your hands and presses kisses to your knuckles. "I'll text you later, okay?"

You pout, but concede, "m'kay."

He offers a goodbye to your parents but they've turned their attention away, looking anywhere else but but at him. He swallows, he'll deal with that later.

[alisdarkwrites]

Yan! Oikawa and iwa Drabble <3

Fem pov

Tw: noncon, stalking, yandere behavior/themes, drugging, bullying, implied murder briefly mentioned, they put their cum into the drink (is that a tw?)

A/n: I feel like I talked weird in this but I kinda enjoy it and ahhhhh I’ve been gone so longggggg

Mdni

Everything is under the cut!

Oikawa falling inlove with someone so unpopular and insignificant to him that he can’t help but ask himself why? Why fall for her?

To cope with it Oikawa starts to make fun of her. The way she looks, dresses, acts. Despite the fact that he loves every single one of these things.

When he finds out iwaizumi feels the same way about her he isn’t happy at first. But as their feelings for poor, unsuspecting girl they have a crush on spiral into mad obsession they can’t help but work together.

Oikawa has some of his more insane, deluded fan girls stalk his darling, while iwaizumi takes out the trash. He scares off any potential suitors, whether by threatening them, or a more permanent solution.

Of course this isn’t enough! So oikawa throws a party, inviting everyone including his darling.

It’s perfect!

He has iwaizumi go up to her, acting all nice. Iwaizumi flirts with her a little bit and then offers to get her a drink. Once he goes off he has oikawa get the special little drink they made for her <3

They know it’s terrible, putting a sedative and a tiny bit of their cum into the drink but it’s ok… you’ll forgive them right?

Iwaizumi goes back to you, all kind and sweet, it’s to bad you don’t notice that gleam in his eye.

Once it finally kicks in, he asks if you need some rest. Of course you accept. Iwaizumi would never do anything bad right?

He brings you to oikawa bedroom, gently placing you on the bed. He leaves, locking the door behind him. You can’t help but drift into a deep, deep sleep…

When you wake up you can barely move. It’s hard to open your eyes but when you eventually do you see Oikawa in front of you. He beams at seeing you wake up. You feel someone wrap their forearm around your neck, putting you in a chokehold. You look up and realize it’s Iwaizumi.

You try to escape but your limbs feel so, so heavy. Iwaizumi grabs your arms, holding both of the with only one of his hands, pressing them out against your stomach. That’s when you realize that you were naked.

You started to freak out, begging them to stop and give you your clothes back. But oikawa just laughs and rubs you on the head.

Oikawa removes all of his clothes, gently pressing his cock against your hole. You beg him, beg and beg and beg him to not do this but nothing you say detours him.

He forces himself in

It’s painful, a burning sensation. It hurts before it’s even all the way in. Your telling him that he’s to big, that it hurts, but he just kisses you on the head.

His pace doesn’t make it any better. The second he thinks you’ve had enough time to adjust he pulls out most of the way. You feel relieved for a few seconds before he slams back in.

It goes on for hours, constant begging for it to stop and him mercilessly thrusting into you. Iwaizumi just kisses you, telling you that it’s ok <3

[6okuto]

gn!reader | iwaizumi will do a lot of things if you ask, but he's always a little awkward and embarrassed about taking photos of himself. what angle does he use, why's the lighting so bad, this is his "no one will see me" t-shirt, does his smile look forced, etc, etc., which means you only ask every once and a while, mostly as a joke, and never mind when he brushes it off with a laugh.

so when you open your messages to see an unprompted selfie of him, blurry, sitting in dim light, cheeks flushed and biting his lip to stop a grin, shocked is one word you can use to describe yourself. apparently drunk hajime is different from sober hajime, and confident enough to send a second, third photo capturing his night out with his old teammates at karaoke.

and you're not sure if it was their idea or his, but you really can't bring yourself to complain when he accidentally sends a video instead of a photo that perfectly frames his slightly unbuttoned top, messy hair that he runs his fingers through (he's brought up needing a haircut every week for the past month, but keeps pushing off setting an appointment), and raspy laugh as he tells someone off screen to shut up and sing already before turning to you with a smile.

"oh, shit, it's a video."

"pft, are you really that drunk?"

"hiii," someone—you think tooru—singsongs your name.

another complains, his voice muffled by your boyfriend moving the camera, "ugh, can you move over?"

"hi babe." hajime's low, slurred voice brings your attention back to him. "i got 94 on m'last song, jus' so y'know.

"let it go! that was all luck—"

"shut up, it's not my fault y'got 67 and sound like a dying bird. ugh," he seems to lose his train of thought and sniffles. "uh...don't worry, issei's driving m'back. i'll tell you 'bout it when i get home. see you soon, alright? love you."

the video ends, cutting off the beginning of a voice crack and off-pitch note, and the responding cackle that momentarily fills the quiet of your living room.

it's not a hard decision to save everything he's sent to your phone. the real hard decision will be tomorrow, you think, when you have to decide between teasing him to death or helping with his hangover. but then you get another notification—another text from him that reads "Cany ou tell them i'm not gonna sing adell" and you smile.

you can probably do both.

(he does end up singing, but so does everyone else. the video you get is way too loud, and way too close to the microphone, and the phone falls to the floor at some point, but it's saved to your gallery anyway. he makes you promise not to play it the next morning because it's "so headache inducing he could explode.")

[aenais]

hq | how they jack off

with kuroo, bokuto, oikawa, iwaizumi, saeko, and kageyama.

summary: hq characters and their masturbation habits

warnings: NSFW content, fem!reader, male and female masturbation, mentions of rough sex, mentions of oral sex (male and female receiving), phone sex, anal play, bruising, light dom/sub dynamics here and there, many many mentions of tits and ass, mention of fingering

A/N - i rewatched haikyuu and these fuckers starting screwing around in my brain again like they owned the place so here’s what came of that. happy reading, expect more of this crap soon lmao

Kuroo Tetsurō

filthy with it

needs his hand slick—with lube, lotion, spit. whatever’s closest.

he’s rough. rubs himself ragged and sweats through his sheets

grunts and groans, mutters your name here and there

usually goes multiple rounds

That’s it—fuck, baby,” Kuroo rasped, pumping his length in his cum-coated fingers. He’d already finished twice to the thought of his cock in your pretty mouth.

His sheets were damp beneath him and the salty tang of sweat clouded the air, but he didn’t give a damn. All he could think about was you. Your deft hands. Your lips, slick with drool. Your glassy eyes staring up at him as he fucked his cockhead down your throat. He groaned at the image, tightening his sticky fingers around his shaft. 

“Like that,” he muttered, wishing it was really you. Because despite the lewd glide of his palm, the puddles of cum crusting on his abdomen, this was nowhere as obscene as the real thing: your wanton whines and moans, the filthy sound of skin slapping skin. God, he wanted to mess you up—make you feel just as dirty as he felt right now. No matter how many times he’d already seen it, he craved to watch you fall apart beneath him again. 

Bokuto Kōtarō

desperate

god, bokuto doesn’t even like masturbating—the feeling’s nowhere near what it’s like to be with you 

but when bokuto needs it, he needs it bad

he’s loud: gasping moans and vulgar, noisy thrusts into his palm

fists his sheets as if he’s grabbing at your skin

He hated that he was doing it—it felt wrong, felt like betrayal. He didn’t want anyone but you to make him feel good. Fuck, it wasn’t like his hand felt nearly as good as the tight grip of your cunt anyways.

But he couldn’t help it, could he? Not after he’d seen that cute little selfie you sent him. 

He whined, squeezing his cock in one hand and his phone in the other as he stared at picture—at your soft, pretty smile and flushed cheeks, and lower…the white tank you’d chosen to wear for the day’s heat. It was just slightly damp at the collar; beads of sweat pooled in the hollow of your throat. He’d twitched in his pants when he caught that, images of you slick and sweaty beneath him clouding his mind. “Darlin’,” he moaned when he noticed the way the shirt hugged your tits. Shit, he wanted—no, needed that body in his hands, that body he called absolutely perfect no matter how much you disagreed. His fingers slid up and down his shaft, faster and faster, as he squeezed his eyes shut and imagined bucking up into you. He wanted those perky tits bouncing in front of his face, your needy whines filling his ears, your grabby hands winding their way into his hair—

“Fuck,” he breathed, halting his motions and staring at the phone in his hand. He had an idea. 

And before he knew it, Bokuto was hitting the Video Call button and positioning himself in front of the camera. 

Oikawa Tōru

usually a bitchy top, oikawa gets so subby when you’re not around 

he knows you like being tossed around, so he’s always given you that—happily so

but tōru’s never met your dominant side, the one that’d love to replace the desperate fingers he’s got in his ass with a nice, meaty strap-on

or ride his cock till he was begging you to stop

so he keeps those fantasies a secret for now. 

but, oh, he’s a slutty mfer. edges himself and whines your name. dirty talks into his pillow like he’s being filmed

“Please—please, baby, wanna cum—fuck, please let me cum—” 

On his elbows and knees, Oikawa shoved his face into the mattress, bucking his hips into his hand. Drool dribbled from his parted lips as he fucked his fist, imagining it was you. His back arched beautifully—if you were there, you’d have a perfect view of the little buttplug in his ass. 

“Need…you,” he whimpered, wiping the drool with his other hand. “Need that cunt—please.” God, he sounded like a bitch. He wanted you to say so, to degrade him like the whore he knew he was. “Aw, Tōru. You’re a dirty thing, aren’t you.”  He keened, imagining that kind of filth tumble from your rosy lips. And, burying his face back into his sheets, Oikawa came.

Iwaizumi Hajime

big BURLY man but he looks so pretty spread out on his couch, thick cock in hand

usually ends up doing it after working out; the testosterone’s flowing and all that 

a groaner. dark and low, iwa growls your name

flips through dirty pics of you on his phone while doing it

uses spit as lube. he’s a frugal man—doesn’t like spending money on something nice when something shitty does the job

spit’s quicker anyway. he’s eager when he needs release.

It was all he could think of the minute he got home from the gym: your pert little ass in front of him as he pounded into you from behind. God, he was pervy. He was disgusting for wanting you like this, every goddamn time after a good lift. 

But, fucking hell. He needed to cum. 

Dumping his bag on the floor, yanking out his phone, Iwa slumped down onto the couch—not even making it to his bedroom. In seconds, his cock was in his hand and his phone was open to the photos you’d taken the last time you fucked. You: in doggy, his seed smeared across your asscheeks and leaking from your hole. His handprints and his hickies all over your skin. 

“Pretty girl,” Iwa snarled, tilting his head back and thumbing the precum dribbling from his tip. He spat obscenely in one hand, grasping his shaft and pumping it up and down, up and down, nice and slow. 

“That’s it, babygirl,” he groaned, seeing your bare skin behind squeezed-shut eyes, envisioning himself groping your flesh. “Take it—fuck—take it all.”

Tanaka Saeko

fuck me up mama

LOUD by nature—she’s grunty and whiny, she groans and she gasps. 

buries her face in her pillowcase to keep it quiet 

used to invest generously in lube, but fuck, she doesn’t need it anymore. she gets wet enough at the thought of you: slick and pliant beneath her

sends you dirty audio recordings sometimes, of herself saying all the scummy, kinky things she knows get you going 

“Oh, darling I wanna taste that cunt again,” Saeko growled into her phone, hoping the mic picked up the lewd sound of her fingers at work in the gaps between the words. She was going at it—slipping them in and out, rubbing her puffy clit, whining at the feeling. 

“Fuck, I miss you,” she panted, “Miss havin’ you on my tongue.” She was babbling now—groaning nonsense about all the filthy things she wanted to do to you. “Wanna leave my mark all over you, sweet girl—hickies on your thighs, on those tits—fuck.” 

She whimpered, the image of your perfect breasts swimming behind her eyes. She remembered the last time you’d been intimate together: the dark, red and purple splotches she’d left all over your chest, your neck, your waist. Saeko knew they wouldn’t have faded yet. You were still walking around, marred with the evidence of her. She clenched around her fingers at the thought. “God, wanna…ruin you, babe,” she whined, picking up her pace. “Need everyone to know…you’re mine.”

Kageyama Tobio

ashamed of the act. does it in the shower to feel less gross

since meeting you, kageyama’s far better about communicating his needs: sexual or otherwise. but years of repression are hard to unlearn, and he reverts to his old ways sometimes. his masturbation habits are a prime example of this 

he’s terrified of asking you for too much. it feels wrong to want you as much as he does—as often as he does. he’s convinced you’ll think him perverted if he admits to it

so he settles for fixing his problems himself, under warm water and in clench-jawed silence

bites down on a knuckle to keep his sounds at bay, but…sometimes?

sometimes, he whimpers. 

The water was tepid, but liquid heat was bleeding through Kageyama’s veins. He squeezed his length in one soapy hand, gliding his fingers up and down . His other hand was clasped prettily over his mouth. 

Because he couldn’t let you hear him.

You were right outside the bathroom—stretched out lazily on his bed, reading something on your computer. God, you hadn’t been trying to seduce him, he knew that. But seeing you in those plush little lounge shorts, in that tight, worn t-shirt that hugged your braless tits…oh, fuck. He’d mumbled something about needing to shower and then ran the hell out of there. 

And now: he felt so depraved. Sudsy water streamed down his tense muscles as he worked his cock, rutting his hips into his hand. He shouldn’t want you like this; you were clever and soft and you deserved more than the vulgar way he kept groaning your name. “Baby,” he whined softly, envisioning the gentle curve of your breasts in that godforsaken shirt. He wanted to tear the damn thing off you, grab each tit in his hands, tweak your pert nipples, and bury his face right in between—

“Fuck,” he mewled. Loudly. 

“Tobio?” your voice called from the other room. 

Shit, Kageyama thought. Shit, shit, shit. But it was fine, right? You were locked out of the bathroom. You couldn’t see him like this.  

But then, in horror, Kageyama watched the doorknob turn. His blood ran cold as he realized: he’d forgotten to lock the door. 

thank you so much for reading!

requests for more hikayuu headcannons/drabbles are officially OPEN! please drop by with your ideas and follow @eashn for more :)

[whisperofwonder]

Departures & Arrivals

Timeskip!Iwaizumi Hajime x reader (gender neutral)

POV: You are one of Iwaizumi's college classmates in California, and there's definitely something between you, but it takes two trips to the airport to figure out exactly what.

2k words | Slight angst with a happy ending

You navigate through the crowded lanes in front of the airport, finally coming to a stop in front of the correct gate. Hajime turns to you before reaching for the door handle.

"Thanks for dropping me off," He says for what's probably the fifth time. "I really appreciate it."

"Of course," You wave it off, "There's no way I'd let you pay the crazy prices for an uber. We're broke college students." You laugh, and he answers it with a smile. "You need me to help get your luggage?"

"No," He shakes his head, "I've got it. Don't bother getting out." You nod, and he finally opens the door as you pop the trunk. You roll the window down as he turns for the door, pulling his suitcase behind him.

"Have a good time back home!" You call out. "Send lots of pictures!" He turns back and lifts his hand in a wave.

"Of course I will," He promises, flashing you one last smile before he turns to go. You watch his retreating back for a few moments before rolling the window back up and putting your car in drive.

It's bittersweet, watching him leave. You know he's been looking forward to going back home for a few weeks this summer, and that he's been feeling a little more homesick than he'll admit. Still, your life is going to feel just a little bit emptier without him around.

You sigh, turning the music up a few notches as you pull onto the highway. You can't get the evening a few weeks ago out of your head.

The two of you had been dancing around it for months. Your friends recognized it in the mildly flirtatious back-and-forth, the way you always ended up sitting with your shoulders touching, and that you somehow found a way to spend nearly every weekend together. You recognized it in the tug in your middle that you felt whenever he was around, in the strange certainty starting the moment you met him that this was someone you've known all your life. Someone you connected with on a level you didn't even realize existed. You'd never felt this way before.

"Hajime, I really like you!" You'd finally blurted out. You aren't sure if that means exactly the same thing in Japan as it does to you, but judging by the look on his face, you can only assume it does. For a few moments, he only looked at you, different emotions playing across his face, then closed his eyes with a heavy sigh.

"I can't," He finally said, sharply, then shook his head. "I'm sorry, that was - I mean -" He paused, and you watched him parsing the English together in his head, heart falling into the pit of your stomach. "I can't do that to you." He said more softly. "I - I've thought about it," He admits. "But I don't want something... casual." He finally settled on the word. You're left reeling, because he's admitted to having feelings for you and turned you down in the same breath.

"And after I graduate, I know I'm going back to Japan," He continued, "And I can't ask you to deal with whatever that involves. I can't ask you to choose between me and the rest of your life. So I think it's better if we just stay friends." He paused. "Because I do want to be your friend. I think you're pretty great," He added with a small, sad smile.

Even turning you down, he's the nicest guy you've ever known. "Okay," Is all you could say, softly, pasting on a brave smile. "Friends, then."

It's not as though you haven't considered what it would mean, being in a relationship with him. You do have a life here in the U.S., and a family, but you're confident in knowing that it's something that will always be here, waiting for you, no matter where life takes you. With your major, you know you could find work anywhere. Even before meeting Hajime, you'd had dreams of living abroad. Japan doesn't sound like such a bad choice.

You haven't told him this, not in so many words. You don't want him to think this is something you're saying just to be with him. The future is a big thing to promise on what might turn into a few dates before you decide to go your separate ways. Still - if he was open to it, you'd be willing to try.

The next morning, you wake up to a message letting you know he'd arrived safely, shortly followed by a photo of the Sendai airport. You smile at your phone, telling him you're glad that he made it home.

The following days are punctuated by photos and messages, painting you a picture of a place called Miyagi - somewhere you'd had no reason to know existed until you'd met a certain dark-haired sports-science major. Suddenly, it seems like a very important place indeed.

You reciprocate, sharing snapshots of your hometown, places you can't help thinking you'd love to share with him in person. As time passes, the messages grow more and more frequent, and longer as you try to cram exactly how much you miss him between the words without admitting as much.

One morning, you've just poured yourself a cup of coffee and curled up on the sofa to enjoy it when your phone rings. To your surprise, Hajime's name shows up on the screen.

"Hello?" You answer hesitantly, a little worried at first that something might be wrong.

"I didn't wake you up, did I?" Even across the phone line, the sound of his worried voice is a welcome sound.

"No," You laugh softly, "I just poured my coffee." You lift the mug to your lips and take a sip.

"Good," He says in a huff of relief. "Time zones are weird."

"They are," You agree with a chuckle. "So, what's up?"

"I couldn't sleep, and - I thought I'd call you. Texting isn't quite the same," He admits. You picture him, maybe sitting cross-legged on the bed in his childhood bedroom, and you press your smile to the rim of your coffee mug.

"No," You agree. "It's not." You haven't ever really talked on the phone with him before. You saw him so often, you hadn't ever felt the need to, but this is nice. "How is it being back in Japan?"

"It's been really great," He says quickly. "Seeing my parents and my friends again has been nice. In a way, it almost feels like I never left. But is it weird that I also kind of miss California?"

"No," You say softly, biting back the fact that you miss him. "California misses you, too," You say more lightly, drawing out a warm chuckle from him that you feel in the pit of your stomach.

"What about you?" He asks then, "Anything exciting going on?"

You shift to a more comfortable position, hugging a throw pillow to your middle and taking a breath. You hadn't known how to share this with him via text. "Well, I just heard back from this company in Norway. They're really interested in having me work for them, starting with an internship this fall. I could transfer to a university there to finish my degree."

"Oh," He says quietly, and you hum in response. "That's great!" His voice brightens, but it sounds fake even through the phone. "So... you would move to Norway?"

"Yeah, I would," You confirm. "If I decide to accept," You add. "I think living abroad would be exciting." You aren't dropping any hints, you tell yourself. Just stating the facts. A year ago, Norway would have done just as well as Japan, or any country, really. A year ago, you probably would have already accepted this opportunity by now.

"That sounds like a great opportunity," He says, "I'm happy for you."

Are you really? You want to ask, but you don't.

"Thanks," you say instead, and find an excuse to move on to another topic. You chat about his travels in Japan with his friends, and your recent trip up the California coast. By the time the conversation winds down, things feel almost normal between the two of you again.

"I should let you get to sleep," You say finally, after he stifles yet another yawn.

"Yeah," He says reluctantly, "You're probably right." He pauses. "One last thing," He adds. "You can totally say no, but would you mind picking me up at the airport when I get back? My flight gets in on August 9, at 4pm. I can always ask Adam to do it if you-"

"I'll be there," You say quickly, before he can finish. "Don't worry about it."

"Okay," You can hear the smile in his voice. "Thanks."

For a few moments after you hang up, you don't move from the couch. Talking to him again, hearing his voice, it stirred up everything you'd been trying so hard to keep at bay.

As the days pass, your correspondence is relegated to shorter messages and quick photos. Things between you feel just a little more stilted than before. Slowly, you're beginning to accept the truth, something you'd been trying so hard to ignore.

I can't just be your friend. You've practiced it over and over in your head. It's going to hurt to say, but you can't go on like this. If Hajime doesn't want to try to make a relationship work - and you can't blame him if he doesn't - then it will be better for both of you if you don't see each other anymore. You even have your perfect escape route - Norway. You tell yourself you'll wait to give them your final answer until after August 9.

Driving to the airport, the gnawing pit in your stomach grows with every mile. This may be one of the last times you see him. You're terrified that you'll chicken out before you can even give your carefully planned speech. You're terrified it can only lead to goodbye. You can't even allow yourself a sliver of hope, because it will only hurt that much more in the end.

Waiting in the lineup of cars, you watch the streams of people passing by for a familiar face. Craning your neck, you finally catch sight of him stepping through the doors, and you can tell the moment he spots you, because a smile breaks across his face. You clench your fist to strengthen your resolve.

Getting out of your car, you move to the trunk, making sure there's plenty of space. It looks like he's returned with an extra suitcase. When he finally approaches the car, only a few feet from you, you look up at him again. "Welcome back!" You say, attempting to put as much cheer in your voice as possible.

He doesn't answer, and instead lets go of his suitcases and strides purposefully through the remaining space between you. Before you can react, his lips are on yours, a hand at the back of your neck to keep you steady. You let out a small, surprised sound before you return the kiss automatically, fingers bunching into the material of his t-shirt as if to prove to yourself that he's really here in front of you - really kissing you like he means it.

When he finally pulls away, his cheeks are flushed, and he's breathing heavily. "I want to see where this goes," He says breathlessly. "I want to be with you, if you'll have me?" What a silly question, as if the way you'd shamelessly pressed back into his kiss hadn't been answer enough. You can't help but smile back.

"Yes," You say quickly, eyes searching his face, taking in very part of him.

"I know it won't be easy," He adds, "And I know we'll have to be long distance, at least for a little, but I want to try. I want to put in the work, because I know it will be worth it."

"Yes!" You say again, giddy laughter bubbling up, "I'm ready," You nod, "I'm ready to do whatever it takes. To be with you." Your smile feels like it's splitting your face in half.

There are long conversations ahead. There's so much to discuss, and so much to prepare for. It won't all be easy. For now, though, Hajime pulls you close and kisses you again, the press of his lips assuring you that, no matter what, it will be worth it.

[kings-highway]

Fighting off severely suffocating boredom at work so here are some haikyuu headcanons and shit for some of my favourite characters and ships with no particular theme

Asahi and Daichi do a lot of very casual bets or gambling with each other, and Daichi almost always wins. And if he doesn’t win, he’s nonchalant enough about it or is able to spin it so that Asahi doesn’t even really process it as a genuine win. Asahi is constantly looking for a chance to “beat” him but the harder he tries the more it seems Daichi keeps winning. 

I think, and I’m not afraid to say it, I think Tanaka can sing. Even if he has no interest in it and doesn’t even know this himself. 

A list of characters I think can sing beyond well, like, just, stupidly well: Tsukki, Ushijima, Oikawa, Semi (obviously), Fukunaga, Asahi, Kita

A list of characters I think can’t sing quite as well but have a lot more fun: Suga, Daichi, Kuroo, Yamaguchi, Matsukawa, Tendou, Atsumu, 

A list of characters I think can’t sing at all, and have the most fun: Bokuto, Futakuchi, Noya, Hanamaki, Hinata, Tora

Tendou cannot swim. I actually hold this one right up there beside Ushijima having a bee allergy in that you’re safe to assume it’s true in all my fics unless proven otherwise. Tendou can’t swim, Ushijima can be killed by bees. Perfect. 

Iwaizumi has an anger response to his own jealousy because he hates that he’s a jealous person. He spends so much time trying to verbally tell people like “no jealousy is bad, trust in a relationship is important and being possessive isn’t a good thing,” and then he’ll turn around and see a guy just like, handing Oikawa something he dropped and will immediately cycle through: “oh, he needs to take ten steps back right the fuck now before I kill him - goDDAMNIT HAJIME THAT’S NOT NORMAL-”

On the topic of jealousy for some of my favourite ships… 

A list of characters I think do experience a heightened degree of jealousy: Iwaizumi, Tendou, Noya (specifically when he’s not in a relationship and doesn’t know if the other person Asahi likes him), Aone (but he just gets sad about it and doesn’t do anything), Tora

A list of characters I think experience a totally normal amount of jealousy: Suga, Oikawa, Bokuto + Akaashi both, though Akaashi hides it better, Kenma (but mostly for the best-friendship stuff with Kuroo he’s not worried about him as a boyfriend. He can get another boyfriend. He’s not sure if he can find another person who knows every food order he has and doesn’t make him talk to waiters)

A list of character who really think their boyfriends should experience more jealousy and be a little more concerned about the fact that they could, like, totally be getting hit on right now: Suga, Tendou

A list of characters who really don’t understand why they’re getting yelled at for trusting their partners and feeling safe in a relationship they’ve worked hard to curate healthy communication in: Daichi, Ushijima

Suga’s first kiss was with Daichi but about a year before that he had lied to look cool and said he’d kissed one of the basketball girls and it’s been fifteen years of a relationship now and Suga hasn’t had the guts to start unraveling this very minor detail and just continues to tell the story of this fake first kiss even to groups of people who weren’t involved in the initial lie and don’t know Daichi. 

Iwaizumi regularly donates blood, and he got the other Seijoh 3rd years doing it, and then it spread and it’s like a weird group activity but when they convinced Kindaichi and Kunimi to come along for the first time Kindaichi discovered he has a phobia of needles and then Kunimi fainted after his blood was drawn and he tried to stand up. 

Tendou once tried to give himself scurvy just for the challenge of trying to avoid vitamin C. He only failed because he got bored and stopped caring. 

Oikawa kept a journal all throughout middle and high school, and to be little shits, Matsukawa and Hanamaki stole it to find either blackmail material or just something to make fun of him for, but what they actually found was a really genuine journal filled with a lot of really normal but affectionate thoughts like “Wow the team is so good, here’s all the reasons why, I really think these guys can take us to nationals, I hope my own ego doesn’t stop us from winning” and a series of long, thoughtful insights about his day and his friends and his future plans and goals and there were technically things in there they could gossip about (like confirmation on a few pages regarding his crush and/or relationship status with Iwaizumi) but overall they just felt really bad about it so they never told anyone they’d opened it. 

I know everyone really loves filipino Iwa, but hear me out: Indian Iwa. i have more thoughts on this. maybe for another post.

Atsumu once spiked a serve into Kita’s face so hard his nose started bleeding and he had to sit out the rest of practice because he couldn’t get it to stop. Kita kept insisting it was fine but the bruise on his face the next day made Atsumu want to resign from the school entirely. 

Daichi is the only Karasuno third year to hold a job before graduation.

Kita has a really low pain tolerance but a really high level of “mind-of-matter” ability. 

Daichi has a really high pain tolerance.

Tsukishima also has a really high pain tolerance. 

Tendou has a very low pain tolerance but he’s a masochist so it’s okay.

Oikawa has a higher pain tolerance than Iwaizumi, and this is set directly below “height” on the “things I hate about Oikawa” list Iwa keeps

Michimiya probably would chat with the boys more but she keeps coming to their gym and seeing things like Noya throwing Asahi around, Kageyama throwing Hinata around, Daichi screaming he’s going to ban them all from the club, Tanaka is never wearing a shirt, and Yachi is always near tears and every single time she just decides to not bother.

Anyway idk i guess that’s all. Part two? Idk you tell me. 

[hanaonesflower]

Iwaizumi finds himself looking at you, puzzled at the way you shy away from his touch. He doesn’t quite get it. But he doesn’t want to push. Hajime does what he knows how to do best; talks it out. Or he tries really hard to. Ever since he’s been more comfortable around you, his arms often swing behind your shoulders and his hands usually are intertwined with yours but he hasn’t stopped to notice that you don’t openly accept his touches.

“Honey, stop.” His tone far from harsh but it still manages to stop you dead in your tracks. You turn to see him, finding your lover standing a couple feet away from you, his arms unoccupied, flinching with the itch for wanting to hold you.

“Hi? Is something wrong?” Regardless of how it may seem, Hajime is not good with his words. He opens and closes his mouth a couple of times only for hopeless croaks to escape his throat. He looks, sad. So, so sad. His arms are being brought up, holding out as if he is collecting a reward, well in this case the reward would be to hold you longer.

“Can you come here, please?” Oddly enough you don’t protest, you don’t try to question him. Instead you step towards him as if someone has possessed you, Hajime looks relieved, he doesn’t have to fight for it. Even though, we all know that he would. “Can you, can I — can you let me hold you, please?” Oh. Yeah. You think. It still doesn’t occur to you that Hajime caught onto the way you shorten every hug, halt every kiss before it gets too deep, shake your hand away from his grasp. Physical touch makes you feel queasy, and it is oh so unpleasant. The direct linkage of physical touch to sex makes you uncomfortable, feeling like each touch has to be accompanied by sexual intimacy. Why does it have to be like that?

Once the distance between you decreases he quickly pulls you close, wraps his arms around your torso tightly. Afraid of losing you.

“D-don’t pull away just yet, okay?” You stay, without saying a word. Hajime doesn’t say much either, it doesn’t take long for your breathing to sync with one another. It was peaceful, tranquil. His hand instinctively travels lower towards your waist, and just like clockwork, you pull away, resisting the strength of his arms. You should have known by now that Hajime can rage storms with his eyes but shut them down just as fast with the way his arms bring so much peace.

“Why?” He asks. This isn’t a normal look for Hajime, he looks like he is on the brink of tears. And you feel yours begin to pour. He doesn’t deserve this. You don’t get to treat him like this. Poor boy just wants to show you what genuine touch feels like and you refuse to give him a chance. “Why can’t I touch you? Why can’t I hold you?” He feels so bad. Hajime tries to rethink about all the things he might have done that led you to feeling unbearable being held by him.

Resolve crumbling at your feet. Physical touch is his way of expressing his love, it’s always something that has always bring him comfort, stability, it has grounded him in many situations. He wants to feel close to you, but he has never felt so far away. It feels like a part of himself is always missing, hiding within you. This is cruel. This is isolating.

Without saying much you crouch to reach him, arms wrapping his shoulders, snuggling your head in his neck, situating in its rightful place. You two don’t share much words in this moment, not much is needed to be said anyway. The way he’s breaking down, longing so badly for the touch of his beloved, so much it hurts. The way his neurons fire, sending chills down his back and the way his skin heats up at the moment you make contact. You hold him and you don’t let go. You stay until you both are spent from the tears you shed. “I’ll hold you like this forever if I could, Haji, I’m sorry.” You believe that you finally get it now. Physical touch doesn’t have to feel evil, it can feel just like this. His hands find your torso again, timid, but he’s willing to try. he sighs into your touch, so relieved to be reconnected with the part of himself he once relinquished to you.

[euphoricimagination]

Bad Habits

Feat. Aoba Johsai

When you joined the team on your second year, after Iwaizumi had asked you for help to deal with the new first year, everything started normally, you didn’t have any problems whatsoever and got along with everyone amazingly good. But it was by the end of the year that you started to fall into your more unhealthy habits. Habits that had appeared since you entered high school, but that became stronger now that you had to care for the team too

You knew it was due stress, the end of the year was always full of things and you were terrible at managing it properly. You had started to stay up until much later, studying or working on project until way too late, barely sleeping 3 hours at max; because of that, you started to feel incredibly tired through the day, leading you into buying energy drinks often to keep you awake, on your worst days you could easily chug down 4 a day with no issues; also because of your lack of sleep, your eye bags started to become more noticeable, not even concealer being able to cover them properly; and worst of all, because of the stress, you occasionally ended up smoking, and while not an often thing, you still do it

You were able to hide it from the team for a while, but the more the end of the year comes closer, the more noticeable it became.

The first one that notice was Oikawa, who could smell the smoke in your clothes in one of his hugs, but he shrugged it off since he thought it was from one of your friends that was known for smoking. Then Iwaizumi noticed the energy drinks, especially when in one day he saw you drink it at lunch, then before starting practice and then buying two more after you part ways; but again, he shrugged it off since sometimes he has rough days too. Then Kindaichi found you sleeping in a weird position on your classroom, surprised you could even sleep like that

It wasn’t until Kunimi said something on the changing room that they started to connect things together

“Did you guys knew that Yn-san smokes?” he asks

“Yn-chan? She doesn’t, her friend does though, that’s why she smells like that sometimes” Oikawa answers

“No, no, I saw her outside with a cigarette and a energy drink…she honestly looked miserable” Kunimi adds

“Energy drink? Again? She had one at lunch” Hanamaki adds

“yeah, and she arrived with one in the morning” Matsukawa says now. They stayed silent for a few seconds, everyone thinking

“That idiot” Iwaizumi sighs “she’s stressed”

“eh? How do you know?”

“Last year I saw her smoking, I scolded her and made her promise to tell me if she needed help or anything. I hadn’t thought that she fell back on it, I should have realized when I saw her with those energy drinks” Iwaizumi sighs again, looking disappointed

“Well, she does drink them from time to time, but now she seems to be abusing it. Don’t beat yourself up for it, man” Matsukawa says as they go out the room, you were already standing there, looking at the clipboard attentively. Iwaizumi walks towards you and yanks you away from the coaches, the whole team in front of you

“So, Yn-chan, something to tell us?” oikawa looks at you, his hands on his hips

“Ehhh…nope, not really” you say confused

“I see. You know, health is the most important thing, you always tell me to not overwork myself”

“what shittykawa wants to say is, we know about your…unhealthy habits, are you stressed out? Why didn’t you tell me? Tell us?” Iwaizumi asks you

“I…I didn’t want to trouble you, that’s all”

“idiot” Iwaizumi flicks your forehead “Stop smoking, Yn-chan, and sleep more, you look terrible”

“you can drink some energy drinks here and there, but don’t abuse it” Oikawa adds

“I hate that this is coming from you out of everyone” you say, making him squint his eyes

“We love you, so take care of you just like you take care of us” Matsukawa says, all of the team hugging you tightly.

[229zmi]

THE ONLY MAN EVER

PAIRING: Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader

CONTENT: reader and iwaizumi are locked in a storage closet

WORD COUNT: 1.7k

“Help. Someone, please help us. Ah, poor me, I’m stuck with— ack!”

You don’t know whose jacket it is for sure, but judging by its odour and the fact that a certain someone on the team keeps complaining about his missing jacket over the past couple of days, it must be Yahaba’s jacket that suddenly falls over your head, spurring tears in your eyes and an automatic urge to gag. Yanking it away from you, you shoot Iwaizumi a hurt look. “That was evil.”

“Are you even taking this seriously?” he asks in a nearly accusatory tone. It’s difficult to make out his face in the darkness of the storage closet, but you can assume he’s glaring at you. “It’s after school hours, hardly anyone walks down this hallway. We could be stuck here for hours before anyone notices we’re gone.”

When Coach Irihata asked for someone to move some equipment from the gym to the storage closet, Iwaizumi had volunteered first like the charitable person he was, and you were adamant on making it a two-person job — in which Iwaizumi would do all the lifting and your presence by itself would bless him with very much-needed moral support along the way.

However, the door had slid shut and locked when neither of you were paying attention, which brings you to now.

Stuck.

“Boo-hoo,” is all you feel like saying in response to his distress, your only source of entertainment now that you’re in this situation. “Why don’t you try breaking down the door or something, Mr. Hulk. Show off those big guns.”

For your own added amusement, you waggle your eyebrows at his indistinct silhouette and motion to your own biceps, pretending to flex them as if you’re a bodybuilder.

“I’m so glad I can’t see right now, whatever it is that you’re doing.” Iwaizumi sighs, running a hand down his face and along his jawline upon hearing your giggles. “Do you have your phone on you? I left mine in the clubroom, but we could call someone to get us.”

Sheepishly, you reply, “I left mine in the gym.”

There’s a silence that lasts for a whole minute as he processes your words.

“Great. Now we really are trapped.”

“Aw, it’s not so bad. You’re with me.”

“That’s exactly what makes this so horrible.” You hear some shuffling, then a hissed expletive as you feel a pair of shoes stumble over yours. The cracking noise that arises from him swivelling his head in your approximate direction, presumably toward the ground, is enough to pull another fit of giggles out of you as he chastises your shadow, “You’re actually laying down? This storage closet is already cramped as it is.”

“If we’re gonna be stuck here for hours like you say, I’m going to take a nap,” you explain your reasoning like it should be obvious.

You pat around the floor for a moment until your fingers graze something cold and metallic, wrapping around the object and shaking it. A clattering noise rings throughout the quiet ambience of the storage closet. This is a shelf, you conclude, imagining your voice to be like that of those narrators in wildlife documentaries. Covered in a thick layer of dust particles and cobwebs; a safe haven for all species of spiders.

“Shit, what’re you doing now?” Iwaizumi sounds as though he might break down from the stress. Inwardly, he prays to the universe for the door to open as soon as possible. “Stop that, I won’t be able to call 119 if something falls on your head and you get hurt.”

“Such a worrywart.”

“I’m being logical. Unlike someone else here.”

“Okay… worrywart.” As funny as you’ve been finding all of this, you decide to finally sit up straight, even going the extra mile to announce to him that you are doing so for his sake, though there’s no need to now that both of your eyes have adjusted to the darkness. One of your hands slaps against the floor, like you’re trying to beckon over a dog or a toddler, not that he’s either of those. “Come sit down next to me.”

“No thanks.”

“C’mon, pleeeeease. There’s some empty space over here. I already checked.”

“You just want to use me as a buffer from the spiders.”

“Well, duh.”

“Lucky me,” he grumbles.

“So are you sitting here or not?”

“What do you think, loser?”

He takes a couple tentative steps towards you, careful not to step on any part of you as he plops down on the ground beside you. The kind gesture is done with just the smallest amount of spite— with several elbow jabs at each other as he tells you to move over an inch. Nevertheless, after the two of you reach a stalemate (though in your opinion, you’re the one that emerged as the victor since he backed out first), you are more than content, even going as far as declaring him your knight in shining armour.

You can’t see the blush blooming on his cheeks after you say that, but you can certainly see him trying to hide it by hovering a hand over the lower half of his face.

“Don’t call me that,” he says.

“How about my guard-dog?”

Iwaizumi pokes your side, and you squirm away, laughing.

“Be serious.”

“Whatever. I’m taking a nap.“

After your laughter dies down, you nestle up to his side, sort of slanting your body so that more of your weight is on him rather than on the hard floor. The process is easier said and done, given how little room there is, but once you deem your position comfortable enough for sleeping, you rest your head against his shoulder, and it’s surprising how you do all this without any complaints from him. In fact, it isn’t until you shut your eyes that he finally speaks his truth.

“Hey,” you feel him press a warm hand against your forehead before moving it to pinch the bridge of your nose, effectively making your eyelids flutter open so you can make sure your hand doesn’t miss him when you swat at his irked face, “when the hell did I ever agree to this?”

“You didn’t need to. Isn’t it in the job description of a good friend?”

“To what? Be your pillow?” His voice rises with incredulity. “Not as far as I’m concerned.”

“Fine then. Iwaizumi Hajime, the only man ever,” you announce, “do you take me to be your lawfully wedded whatever, to live together in marriage and blah blah blah—“

“What?”

“—to make sure the critters crawl all over you instead of me at any cost, for better or for worse, in strength and in weakness, in wakefulness and in—“

“Don’t say it like that!” His hand comes up flicks your forehead before immediately brushing over the area with his thumb to sooth the pain. There’s a slight stutter in that first word that does not go unnoticed by either of you, yet you don’t point it out. He hopes you can’t hear how fast his heart is beating in your proximity to him.

He glances down at you, your head still on his shoulder. The corners of your mouth lift to reveal a shit-eating grin, and he scowls.

“I hate you.”

“Nuh-uh.” You wag your finger at him as if you’re an evil villain in a kids’ cartoon. “You love me.”

The silence that hangs after your words instead of a snarky denial is so abrupt and unexpected, you wonder if an object from one of the shelves just hit his head and knocked him out or something. However, he’s still clearly conscious when you peer up at him to check, staring at nothing in particular with his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek: a telltale sign of him thinking.

“You alive?”

“Yeah. Just— go to sleep,” he says at last. “I’ll watch out for any bugs, rats, whatever, just please stop talking.”

“Finally!” You smile, turning your head to the side to press a chaste kiss against his upper arm as a small thanks. “Good luck, and may the door also hit you in the head when we get found.”

Frowning, Iwaizumi can’t see how that’ll work when you’re the one closer to the door. Nonetheless, he doesn’t mull over it for too long or bother complaining about it, letting you fall into a peaceful slumber and possibly the best nap you’ve ever taken.

Oikawa expects a lot of things when he opens the storage closet.

He expects a couple spiders to fall on top of him (for which, in that instance, he’s prepared himself by holding a textbook over his head). He expects a rat to run out and dance around his feet (for which he’s also prepared himself with vocal warm-ups a few minutes earlier, in case he needs to scream). He even expects a shelf to suddenly collapse, a broom to fall onto him, an inflatable stick figure with Ushijima’s face to pop out at him — anything but the cliché scene that lies in front of him right now, both answering the question that has been brewing inside of him ever since he realised his two friends were gone and also raising some new ones in its wake.

Slowly, he lowers his arms, his chin at a lower position than usual as he stares, flabbergasted at the sight of you hugging Iwaizumi’s shoulder like it’s a teddy bear and Iwaizumi, who to his credit is still fully awake, making violent gestures with his free hand for Oikawa to keep his mouth shut.

Oikawa gets it, despite there being no words exchanged. To wake you up means that bad things will come his way, most likely multiple volleyballs thrown at his head and a lengthy lecture. However, there’s no way he’ll pass up an opportunity to make fun of his best friend later, when the circumstances are much safer and you are awake to keep a leash on your guard-dog. (He snickers to himself at the controversial yet fitting nickname.)

He shoves his textbook under his arm, then starts fumbling through his pockets for something. Iwaizumi realises too late what Oikawa is about to do, mouthing the word don’t just as he hears a click from the brunet’s phone.

Oh fuck, he thinks. Not only does Oikawa have a picture of you nuzzling your face against Iwaizumi’s arm but now he probably has a picture of Iwaizumi looking stupid as hell with his mouth open mid-word.

As Iwaizumi shoots invisible daggers at him with his eyes, Oikawa makes the wise decision to cancel out the other not-so-wise one; he shuts the door and books it down the hallway.

[depravitycentral]

Haikyuu Dick Headcannons Pt. 3

Ft. the Seijoh men (Tooru Oikawa, Hajime Iwaizumi, Issei Matsukawa, Takahiro Hanamaki, Kentarou Kyoutani, Yuutarou Kindaichi, Akira Kunimi)

Tw: implied yandere, implications of stalking, lots of talk about cum, masturbation, oral, praise, a sprinkle of degradation, PSA Oikawa cries during sex, very slight misogyny in Kunimi's, fem reader, MDNI

Tooru’s cock is, just like the rest of him, pretty. It’s pale, slender, rigidly straight with a perfectly shaped bulbous tip that always makes this lewd schmuck noise when he pulls out of you. As he gets closer to coming his tip gets a little pink, but it’s nothing compared to the flush sitting high on his cheeks, or the rosy red of his lips. He’s got a single vein that runs along his underside, so it doesn’t marr the smooth appearance but still gives you that extra bit of stimulation when he’s fucking you. It’s just an overall outstanding cock, and he knows it, too - he’s confident in his body in general, but this is particularly true in the context of his penis. He takes good care of himself, shaving and making sure to use expensive oils and lotions to minimize any ingrown hairs or razor burns. He even uses a special genital cologne, just to make sure he smells good too. (The scent is one he thinks you’d like - he’d brought you to a perfumery one time as a joke because he thought seeing you scrunch your nose at some of the smellier ones was entertaining, but he’d been keeping note of which ones you’d found agreeable when he shoved them at you.) He’s not terribly sensitive - particularly when you’re sucking him off, because while it feels amazing to have your lips wrapped around him, he’s gotten enough head through his life that he’s just jaded and too used to it to find it especially pleasurable. But being inside you? That’s a different story - he hasn’t actually fucked that many women, and as a result the moment he slips inside you for the first time he’s gasping, his eyes blowing wide and this strangled, vulnerable little noise coming from his throat. He still takes a while to come, but he’ll gasp and murmur praise in your ear the entire time he’s thrusting into you, because you just feel so good and warm and tight. 

He’s a shooter, and it makes this perfect, porn-worthy little arc as he throws his head back and moans your name. He doesn’t produce much in terms of volume, but it’s pretty runny, so it’ll often feel like there’s more there than there really is. His cum is very smooth; there’s no lumps or globs, and when he rubs it against your skin (because he likes seeing you covered in it, and he claims it’s good for your skin - rich in nutrients and makes you glow) it almost feels like a thin lotion. When he comes his whole body freezes up, every muscle going taut and tensing up as the pleasure overwhelms him. He’s still for a moment, but after the first initial wave he’s suddenly moving like a madman, his hips bobbing and thrusting wildly and unpredictably, desperate to get any last bit of pleasure they possibly can. He’s always clutching onto you, too, like he needs to ground himself or else he’ll get carried away by the pleasure. (This often leads to finger shaped bruises appearing on your hips and ass, sometimes even your breasts, and while he’s apologetic about it, he doesn’t feel bad.) He makes this high, airy sort of moan when he’s coming, and his eyes always shut tightly, his thin brows scrunching together and his mouth morphing into a sort of grimace. He looks like he’s in pain, but he’s not - it feels so, so very good, and he’s just trying to stop himself from moaning something stupid or crying. (He does cry sometimes, if the sex is particularly emotionally charged - the first time you tell him you love him gets him sobbing as he bends your knees up to your chin, plugging you full with his cock, and kissing you the whole time, whispering to you in a strained, broken moan I love you I love you I love you, fuck tell me you love me again-)

His favorite way for you to touch him is when you’re simply good for him, taking his cock and letting him do as he pleases with you. He likes when you’re receptive to his touches, and ideally you’d be spread out before him on the bed, your legs wrapped around his waist and your fingers alternating between running through his brown locks and scratching down his back when you’re getting close. He likes the way your cunt flutters around him, your walls rubbing him and massaging his length in a way that makes him breathless, and sometimes his arms even go a bit weak and he nearly falls down on top of you because you just feel too damn good. He likes when you thrust your hips in time with his, trying to get him in deeper and feel him to a much fuller extent. It makes him feel wanted, like he’s doing a good job of pleasuring you, and if you moan? Tooru’s gone, burying his face into your neck and moving from the languid, sensual pace he’d been fucking you at to a more purposeful, calculated one, aiming for that spot he knows you love with every snap of his hips. He especially likes it when you come on his cock - the way you clench down on him makes him light headed, and sometimes - when your orgasm is powerful enough - you squeeze him hard enough to force him out of your cunt, his cock still swollen and throbbing, your slick coating him while he watches you fall apart below him. He likes the way you spasm around him, and more often than not it lulls him into his own orgasm, spurting cum into you and gasping your name with his lips wrapped around your sensitive nipple. He just really, really likes when you willingly pull him closer and encourage him to fuck you deeper; it’s a surefire way to get him breathless and crying out your name.

He’s solidly five and a half inches, with dark hairs framing his base and naval. It’s the perfect shape, with a slight curve upwards that hits you just right when he’s got you spread out on your back, bulbous tip ramming into that spot over and over again. It’s incredibly easy to arouse him - his cock’s got a mind of its own, and often there’s blood rushing south from the slightest things, like you licking your lips (he can’t not imagine how they’d look around his length) or mindlessly playing with your fingers (they’d look so small against him, running along his chest and gripping around his cock; he bets you couldn’t even touch your fingers when you grip him). He gets hard embarrassingly quickly, and stays hard, even if he desperately tries to get rid of it. This causes quite a few awkward moments when he’s around you, and he tries to wear baggier pants whenever there’s a chance you might be present - just because every encounter with you more often than not leads to him popping a boner at least twice. He’s moderately sensitive, and particularly likes when you give his tip and base attention at the same time. He likes when you suckle at the head and lap your tongue up and down his slit, all while your fingers massage and grope at the juncture between his shaft and his pelvis. It makes him shudder, eyebrows drawing together, and gets his hips bucking forward slightly. Especially if you rub at the spot right above where his balls and shaft meet - it makes him actually growl. 

His cum is thick and pretty bitter, landing on your tongue and leaving a residue like thick oil. The taste is hard to get out of your mouth, unfortunately, and when you tell Hajime this he’ll immediately feel guilty for how much he likes to finish down your throat. After that, every time you suck him off he’ll come on your face - he justifies it as being less invasive of your wishes, and because it seems to actually be good for your skin. (One time you’d had a nasty pimple, and after a spurt of his cum landed on it, the next morning it disappeared.) It’s okay, though, because his favorite place to come is actually on you, specifically on your pussy. He likes pulling out at the last minute and finishing himself off, watching as cum dribbles onto your pretty lips, making an absolute mess out of you and leaving you all sticky and warm. He’ll run his fingers through it sometimes, staring with this look of awe, intensely enough that you’ll get embarrassed. His ultimate, though, is when your spread your lips for him, exposing your quivering, swollen little hole, and he comes all over that - it’s dirty, taboo, and it makes his possessive urges towards you calm down a bit because now you’re marked as his, and anyone else can see the globs of his cum that are pressed up right against your most sensitive, intimate area. Of course, though, if you want him to come inside, he’ll never say no. He’s a gasper, his breath always getting caught when he’s fucking you. When he first shoves himself inside, he’s gasping lowly and biting his lip, trying to control himself and hold back the orgasm that’s already dangerously close. He’s not too terribly vocal for the most part, but when he gets close to coming he’s stuttering out your name, each syllable punctuated with a grunt and a gasp, until eventually he’s coming, his eyes blowing wide and a strained slur of your name falling from his lips. He stares the whole time, unwilling to look away, and it’s not until the oversensitivity overwhelms him that he lets the moment end.

His favorite way for you to touch him is when he’s giving himself a pussy job, using - of course - you. In general, he’s utterly fascinated by your cunt - he’s always staring at it, and although he’s certainly no virgin, there’s something about your folds, specifically, that makes him salivate. He’s always trying to rut his cock against you, obsessed with the feeling of the most intimate part of you touching the most intimate part of him, and he wants nothing more than to have you spread out before him, your eyes blown wide and legs spread for him, pretty body on display for him as he fists his cock. He wants to run his tip through your folds, to collect all your slick and wetness at his head, watching the way it mixes with his own pre, leaving him a sticky, wet mess that shines and gleans in the light. He’ll grip himself at the base, harshly exhaling as he runs himself slowly, so damn slowly, up and up, letting himself dip deeper inside every few centimeters, just enough to tease both him and you. He’ll run himself all the up to your clit, muttering out a curse as his tip draws circles against your little nub, his slit feeling so sensitive and needy that it makes him crazy. When he’s doing this, he tends to murmur your name a lot, growls of how pretty you look, amazed comments of how you’re already so wet for him, and curses of how fucking tiny your little pussy are always slipping past his lips. He’s amazed by how he can possibly fit inside you - you look so small and tight, and his cock looks much too big in comparison, and the idea of stretching you out gets him gulping, his cock visibly throbbing. Eventually he’ll cave and shove himself in, apologizing through grunts that he just can’t hold himself back anymore, that he can’t keep teasing himself, that he needs to be inside you and feeling how warm and wet and perfect you are. He’ll come very quickly after doing this - it only takes a few minutes, and soon he’s groaning your name and spilling inside of you, spurts of hot, thick cum plugging you up while he breathes in your scent and basks in you.

He’s a tall man, and his cock reflects that - it’s long, easily six and a half inches, hanging so heavily between his legs that even when he’s fully hard, swollen and practically begging to sink itself inside of you, it’s only standing at about 120 degrees, too weighed down by it’s own size to fully stand up. He’s not especially thick, but he’s veiny, with the raised skin criss-crossing and feeling perfect when they rub up against your spongy, sensitive walls. He’s not too terribly sensitive, but he likes steady, consistent pleasure stimulation, like a constant pace when he’s fucking you, or when you bob your head steadily, tongue lapping at his underside with fervor. His tip is always a darker shade than the rest of his shaft, the color matching his balls, and Issei particularly likes when you pay attention to those two areas. He’s extremely sensitive when it comes to any sort of stimulation to his balls, and the moment that your fingers brush them or your tongue flicks at them, he’s groaning, Adam’s apple bobbing as he tells you to do that again, angel, fuck just like that. He likes when you suck on them, trying to fit as much of each one into your mouth as you can, and just the sight of your lips wrapped around one while you suck and thumb at his tip with your hand makes his head spin, his orgasm drawing closer and closer at an alarming rate. He has a thing for making you kneel below him, and he really likes to be the one standing over you - there’s something about the power dynamic that gets him harder than he’s ever been in his life, and when you look up at him all sultry and dirty like that, it takes everything in him to not force your lips apart and fuck your throat like an animal. (And sometimes, the urge is too strong - you’re left with a bruised throat and a hoarse voice, but everytime you talk to him like that it makes his expression darken, his cock growing hard once more and soon you’ll find yourself bent over the nearest surface, ass cheeks on display while he breaths hard and nudges his tip at your hole, determined to give you a bruised cunt to match your throat.)

His cum is thick too, but sometimes the consistency can be a little strange. It tends to glob up a bit, and because he dribbles when he comes, this can sometimes result in little spurts oozing out of his tip. The volume of cum is quite high, and because of this, when he comes inside you, you can really only describe it as him stuffing you full. (He’s seen your tummy swell before when he’s creampied you - you don’t really believe him, but he swears your stomach got bigger. And just the thought of that - that he stuffed you full enough to stretch that little pussy of yours out - is enough to get him growling and sucking dark hickeys into your neck, his possessiveness shooting through the roof.) He’s not especially vocal in bed, normally preferring to stay quiet and just listen to you, but as he gets closer his breathing starts getting really heavy, pants coming from his lips that sound more and more labored the closer his orgasm looms. Right before it hits, he’ll close his eyes and groan, the sound low and full of timber, making a shiver roll up your spine because it sounds so primal, like some sort of animal. And when he’s actually coming, he’ll groan again - except this time, it sounds vaguely like your name, the last syllable sounding upturned as the pleasure makes his mind scramble. His hips will slow down to nearly a stop when he’s coming, because he tends to get oversensitive really easily and he needs a moment to catch his breath. His eyes are closed the whole time, eyebrows scrunching together and looking a bit like it hurts, but the way his thighs tremble and the way his jaw goes slack tells you just how good you’ve made him feel. He prefers coming inside you, but as long as his cum gets inside of you somehow, whether that be in your cunt or down your throat, he doesn’t really mind. 

His favorite way for you to touch him is when he’s on his back, and you’re perched with your cunt over his face and your mouth over his cock. He’s a fan of the classic 69 position, because while it isn’t the most sexually satisfying option, there’s something that he finds really endearing about the idea of pleasuring each other equally. He loves the feeling of your mouth on his cock, and the combination of that plus getting to taste your cute little pussy leaves him light headed and aroused enough to throw you down onto the bed. He likes to get on his back and give you a look, hoping you’ll understand what he wants without him having to articulate it, but if you don’t seem to get the message he’ll grab you and manhandle you on top of him, a hand gently pushing your face down to rub against his cock while his tongue slips between your folds. He’ll admit that the position is a little distracting, because it can be hard to focus on pleasing you when you’re doing such a good job of pleasing him, but he’s normally able to stave off his orgasm long enough to get you falling apart on top of him. He’ll aim for your clit and will sometimes bring a finger up to gently rub and curl against your walls, anything to get you shaking and moaning his name. (Plus, if he gets you wet enough, your slick will actually drip down onto his face - he fucking loves this, because it feels like you’re showering him with evidence of how well he’s touching you, coating his face with your slick because you want him to know that what he’s doing is enough.) He likes the way you gasp and struggle to stay consistent around him when he’s touching you like this, and feeling your fingers tremble as they stroke him and squeeze at his balls makes him sigh and buck his hips slightly. If he gets close, however, and feels like he can’t hold off any longer, his free hand will come down and hold your head in place while he thrusts up into your mouth, balls slapping against your nose as he fucks your face to his heart’s content. He just likes the intimacy of this position, and you’ll find yourself in it very often - especially towards the beginning of your ‘relationship’.

He’s just barely over five inches, but he’s pretty thick. It’s girthy, and when you first see it, the first thing you think of is how the hell he’s going to fit something that wide inside of you. It’s always a pink rosy color, even when he’s not hard, and although he’s embarrassed at first, he actually really likes having domestic moments with you where you see his cock both erect and flaccid - it makes him feel closer to you. (Plus, it normally only takes mere moments for it to go from soft to hard when you’re involved, which is what tends to happen nine times out of ten.) He doesn’t do a very good job of grooming himself, and takes pretty much no time to actually shave or trim or anything of the sort. It’s a bit of a mess down there, but he showers often so it all smells good and is clean. He doesn’t want you to shave or trim either - he firmly believes sex should be natural, and he wants to see you as you are, not as you present yourself. He’s decently sensitive, and while he’s got a bit of experience, he can get overwhelmed pretty easily when he’s inside you. He twitches a lot, especially once he’s settled between your walls - you can feel him moving inside you, bobbing and spasming as he gets closer to his orgasm, and sometimes his whole body shakes in time with them. It’s nice, actually, because it makes it easy to identify what kind of dirty talk gets to him - the moment you let any sort of praise slip past your tongue, he’s twitching and throbbing inside of you, acting as encouragement to get you saying more, to tell him that he feels good and that he’s gonna make me come ‘Hiro, please please please! (Begging normally gets him throbbing, too.)

He shoots, and there’s quite a bit of force behind the stream - it feels like the perfect amount of pressure in a shower, and he’ll always force himself to keep his eyes open so he can watch the way it spurts out of him and lands in ropes on your pretty body. His cum actually tastes surprisingly sweet, given how poor his diet is. It’s on the saltier side, but it’s nothing too outrageous. (You told him that once and he made some joke about how it would make the perfect replacement for that salt shaker that always seems to run out. You didn’t find the joke particularly funny, but the thought lingers in his mind for a while, and suddenly he can’t stop imagining the way you’d look actually eating his cum, not even in a sexual context. The thought makes him flush and have to clear his throat, but he can’t deny the allure.) This is great news for you, because Takahiro loves to come in your mouth. There’s something so dirty about seeing his cum dripping from the corners of your lips, down your chin, your pretty pink tongue coming out to lick it all up - and oh, if you hum or moan at the taste? He’ll melt, a few droplets of whatever remaining cum his body can scrounge up landing on your face without any warning. He’s a moaner, and while it embarrasses him, his voice always gets high when he gets close to coming, sounding less like moaning and more like whining and whimpering. He’ll always try to bury his face in whatever surface is closest by, though he tends to prefer your breasts or the small of your back, whichever is accessible. The moment he’s actually coming, though, he’ll  always pull back to watch, because even being a fully grown adult man, he’s still in awe of how your body just seems to affect his, almost like you’re pulling the cum out of him with how hard he orgasms. 

His favorite way for you to touch him is when you ride him. He’s not necessarily lazy in bed, but he likes to watch you and let you do most of the work until he needs to step in. He’ll lay back with his head on some pillows and let you straddle him, your cute tummy and pretty tits on display as you slowly slide down onto him. He likes when you grind a bit on him first, your folds rubbing and massaging against his length, and if you watch his tip you’ll see a copious amount of precum oozing out, showcasing his steadily growing desperation to get inside you. Once you slip him past your tight entrance and he bottoms out inside you, he’ll sigh and pinch at your hips, his voice cocky as he tells you to get on with it baby, wanna feel you bouncing on me like a good little slut. It’s uncharacteristic, with how most of his tendencies in the bedroom tend to air on the more submissive side, but the moment you’re actually moving? Well, all traces of cockiness and dominance are gone - he’s gripping onto your thighs for dear life, eyes fixated on the way your breasts bounce and jiggle, maybe even smacking against your ribcage if they’re big enough. He likes the way he’s able to get deeper inside you like this, the penetration going further and making you cry out his name because you just feel so damn full. He’ll stare and watch you, his cheeks bright red, unable to focus on anything except your body and the way his orgasm is drawing nearer and nearer, and eventually he’ll get close enough that he needs to take control. He’ll sit up and wrap his arms around your waist, face pressed against your chest and maybe even a nipple in his mouth as he moves you up and down like some glorified sex doll. He’ll control your body fully, his own hips snapping up to meet yours in a crazed chase of his orgasm, until finally it hits, and he’s moaning your name and his balls are pulsing against your ass as warm cum floods you. He likes the vulnerability of this position, the way he can be touching so much of you at once, and because he gets to see all of you, even the parts of you that you try to hide in other positions. (Like that cute stomach of yours or the fat of your thighs.) You just look sexy, and the way you pulse and clench down onto him like a fucking vice when you reach your own high only spurs him on, desperation for round two and three and four hitting him like a truck.

He’s a little under five inches, but he’s mean with it. He doesn’t have much experience, but he’s nursed a small porn addiction for most of his life, and although he knows porn isn’t realistic, he can’t help but fuck into you with reckless abandon every time he’s got you naked in front of him. He’s not too terribly thick, but he’s veiny, to the point where he almost looks like those veiny dildos you can get online. His tip is extremely sensitive - swiping your thumb across his slit or squeezing at the head makes him splutter, his cheeks turning bright red as his hips jerk forward. It’s easy to turn him on, because he’s really bad at hiding when he’s aroused. Seeing you in anything form fitting will make him feel hot and have him alternating between averting his eyes and staring at every inch of you, but the real nail in the coffin for him is when you touch him in falsely innocent ways. Place a palm to his chest and smile at him and he’s immediately hard, or run your hand over his hair and he’s practically panting, unable to stop imagining the way you’d grip at his hair and beg him for more when he’s got his face between your legs. He gets hard easily, but he’s normally able to make it go away pretty easily too, but his face stays this rich red color and he gets more skittish around you than normal, so you’ll be able to tell ninety percent of the time. He’s actually pretty meticulous about upkeep - he’s not clean shaven but the hair is very short, perfectly trimmed so that you have unrestricted access to everything below his belt. He does this both because it makes him feel cleaner, and also because he wants to be as enticing to you as possible so that you’ll be more inclined to touch him. He’d gotten drunk one night in his early twenties and decreed that he’d be getting his dick pierced, and a buddy had gotten it on video, and he wouldn’t let his pride be wounded, so now he’s got a Prince Albert piercing on his tip. It hurt like hell, but he really likes the way it feels inside you - it makes him more sensitive, he thinks, and you always seem to squirm when you feel the cold metal, the extra stimulation making you moan and clench even harder around him. 

His cum is thick and there’s a lot of it. It doesn’t taste great, and the first time you tasted it you couldn’t help but grimace slightly. Kentarou noticed, and while he didn’t say anything about it, he’s been trying to alter his diet to include more foods he’s read help sweeten the taste of cum. He prefers to finish on your body rather than in you, but he’ll never not finish inside you if that’s what you want. Really, if you ask him to finish anywhere specific, he’ll do it in a heartbeat, excited that you want it. He just likes the way you look with it smeared across your skin - again, that porn addiction has left him with a bit of an objectification kink, and while he doesn’t view you as simply a toy for him to fuck, there’s something that quells his possessiveness towards you when he’s covering you with his seed. He tries to avoid coming in your mouth though, just because he doesn’t want to see you grimace like that again. When he’s fucking you, he doesn’t usually say much, but he isn’t super quiet - he grunts a lot, always sounding a little bit like he’s in pain, and he keeps his eyes tightly closed for much of it. He’ll mutter your name under his breath, too, but it’s quiet enough that unless his mouth is close to your ear you won’t be able to distinguish what he’s saying. But as he gets closer to coming, those grunts turn more into growls, and right as he’s on the edge, he’s literally growling your name, along with slurred fuck’s and yeah’s and too damn tight’s. He’s not too expressive, but if his orgasm is particularly powerful he’ll end up sinking his teeth into the skin of your shoulder - not enough to break the skin or hurt, but enough to leave a mark when he pulls away, and enough to muffle the moan that bubbles up in the back of his throat. His whole body tremors when he’s coming, everything from his fingertips to his toes trembling and shaking slightly, the force of his orgasm nearly blowing him away. It takes him a long time to actually finish coming once it starts, too - he comes so much that it just never seems to end, him emptying into you for easily twenty seconds before the last few drops finally come out. 

His favorite way for you to touch him is when you take your time and just absolutely worship his cock. He’s never been embarrassed of his body or anything, but he likes the idea of being soft with you, and while he’s just a bit too awkward to take the time and worship your body, he likes when you do it to him. (It’s not that he doesn’t want to worship yours - he does, absolutely, more than you could ever understand. But putting himself into that position where you’re watching his every move and judging him, letting him explore and pleasure you and do whatever he wants with you makes him nervous, the pressure settling on his shoulders to do well making him chicken out at the last second. But when it’s you worshiping him, he can just sit back and watch, letting you do your magic until he’s eventually gasping your name and getting cum all over himself as you fist him and press kisses against his thighs.) It feels like such an intimate moment, and it helps convince him that you actually like him, that you’re actually returning the love he’s so frantically forcing onto you. He wants you to keep eye contact the whole time, looking up at him from your place on your knees, his own body seated in a chair with his legs spread so you have easier access. He wants you to kiss every inch of him, your soft lips pressing against his thigh, balls, cock, navel, everything you can reach. He wants you to pump slowly, telling him how warm he feels in your hands, how he’s so big and makes you feel so good, the compliments flowing off your tongue like sugar and making his face turn bright red. He wants you to suckle on his tip and lick along his slit, teasing him with not quite enough pressure, telling him how good it feels when he brushes against that certain spot inside you that makes you see stars. He wants you to squeeze and touch his balls, telling him how these always make you feel so full, they fill me up so well, Kentarou, I love it when you come in me. He just wants you to praise him and touch him all softly and slowly, showing him that you really love him. Give him hope that his one-sided feelings might be more reciprocated than he seems to think.

It’s solidly five inches, and curves very slightly to the left. He’s confident enough with it, but Yuutarou finds himself wishing he was just a bit longer, just a bit thicker, just a bit more. He spends a lot of time looking at himself in the mirror, and especially once his feelings for you form, he’s always idly wondering what you’d think of him. It’s a pale color, and when he gets hard it turns a gradient of pink down to his tip, where it’s flushed and always swollen within seconds of blood rushing south. He keeps himself clean shaven because he doesn’t want you to be grossed out when he eventually has you in front of him, naked and yearning for his touch. He wants everything to be clean and attractive and perfect, because the first time he gets to touch you and fuck you, everything has to go perfectly. He’s decently sensitive, and he especially likes it when you pay attention to his base. Gripping him there and idly squeezing while you talk to him will make him breathless and light headed, his voice strained and tight when you ask him if he’s wanting to fuck me? Do you want that, Yuutarou? Do you want to make me a mess on your cock? You’re so dirty when you talk to him like that, but it drives him crazy - and when you grip him tighter and tighter and tighter, it only furthers the feeling. He likes it, too, because your hand almost acts as a sort of cock ring, barring him from accidentally coming much too early - something that’s happened often when he was still left to his own devices with only the thought of you and his pillow to work with. 

His cum is watery and there’s not a huge amount of it. He comes pretty easily, all things considered, but he has a decently short recovery time, and if the worst case scenario occurs (he comes before you), he’s immediately getting onto his stomach and diving between your legs, tongue eagerly working at your clit and his fingers slipping past your swollen folds to curl and rub at you until you’re moaning and clutching onto the pillow under your head. He’ll let himself calm down, and within five minutes he’s normally able to get hard again, and while this time he’ll likely be shooting a blank, he will keep fucking you until you come for him - and this time he’ll have his thumb working at your sensitive little clit the whole time, his pride out the window because he needs you to come, dammit. When he comes he makes this weird little half-shout half-groan, the sound loud and a little bit jarring. He tries to keep quiet for the most part during sex, because no matter how many times you try to tell him that you like his noises, he’s too embarrassed to freely let them out. Besides, he’d rather hear you anyways. But when he’s getting close, he does tend to start blabbering, his voice slurred and the words coming out so quickly that they’re hard to understand. He’s trying to get every thought out in those last few seconds before he comes, because he has all these compliments and sweet nothings that come to mind when he’s fucking you, but he’s too engrossed in the moment and nervous to actually say them, so he waits until the last moment and all you can hear is y’so tight ‘n good, ‘m gonna come in you, fuck let me come, y’so pretty when you’re drippin’ with me and fuck fuck fuck, here it comes take it take it take it-! He writhes when he comes, unable to stay still, his muscles flexing and relaxing over and over again, leaving him to shake on top of you and then promptly collapse onto you. He’s exhausted after he comes, but he’s still attentive to your needs, and even if he’s on the edge of passing out, he’ll make sure to get his fingers stuffed inside you and his lips on your nipples, absolutely anything to guarantee you’re feeling good. 

His favorite way for you to touch him is when you take control. He’s always a little doubtful of his own abilities, nervous that he’ll do something that you don’t like, even though you aren’t the first girl he’s slept with. He’s just a bit paranoid that he’ll make a mistake and eliminate any form of attraction you feel for him, and so he likes it best when you take the wheel, pushing him onto his back and climbing on top of him, leaning down to kiss him and suck hickies into his neck. He likes when you grind on him, your hips moving against his in circles, your very thin panties (that he’d picked out, with a red face, the last time he’d visited a lingerie shop, having bought a few sets for you after learning your panty and bra size) rubbing up against his boxers, the navy material already stained a darker blue with a copious amount of precum. He wants you to move his hands for him, your grinding never stopping as you situate his large palms against your breasts (already bare, your - his - t-shirt haven’t been discarded across the room), squeezing over his hands to encourage him. He wants you to slowly sink down on him, before setting up a brutal pace, bouncing on top of him with reckless abandon while you smile down at him and hold eye contact. He wants you to move his hands to grope at your ass, while you reach behind you to play with his balls, squeezing lightly and feeling the way he tenses up and warbles your name. He wants you to suddenly switch your positioning, so that you’re facing away from him, your ass exposed to his prying eyes while you roll your hips again, the new angle making access to squeezing his thighs easier. He just wants you to manhandle him, really, because while he may be well over six feet tall and is finishing up his collegiate studies, he’s nothing more than putty in your hands, eager to do anything and everything you want.

He’s roughly five inches, with a moderate girth. Overall, he’s thoroughly average - tufts of brown, curly hair sit at his base and a vein or two decorates his shaft, which slims out a bit as it extends, ending in a round, mushroom-shaped tip that’s always covered by pretty, pink foreskin. He produces a lot of precum, to the point where once you get your hands on him, you’ll be surprised to feel that it’s almost like he’s already slicked himself up with lube. There’s just so much of it - but that’s because once Akira gets hard, he stays hard. No matter how hard he tries to distract himself or will away his erection, it takes at least fifteen minutes for it to go away. Even after he comes, he stays hard for a while - he gets oversensitive very easily, so he’ll try to swat your hand away if you reach for it when it’s still coming down after his release, but secretly he hopes you’ll reach for it again because he’ll begrudgingly let it happen the second time, content and pleased that you want to keep touching him. He stays hard, but actually takes him quite a bit to get hard - even with you, the woman he finds so sexually arousing and desirable that it makes him sick sometimes, he has to have a good mix of stimulation and thoughts to get him ready to go. Generally, if you want to get his cock swelling up and turning a deep pink color, kiss his neck and palm over his crotch, whispering his name in the most sultry voice you can manage, maybe even flicking even lightly biting his earlobe as you whisper into it. He’s not too sensitive, and because of this he tends to last a long time in bed, to the point where if he’s really concentrated and you’re in the right mood, he’ll get you to orgasm at least three times before he gets close. He doesn’t groom himself all that much, figuring that if you really have a problem with it you’ll let him know, and while he keeps everything clean and sanitary, sometimes you end up with a bit of hair in your mouth when you’re sucking him off. 

He doesn’t produce a huge amount of cum, but it’s decent tasting, enough so that you genuinely don’t mind swallowing it. This is good news, because Akira really, really likes when you give him head. His favorite place to come is definitely your mouth, and the feeling of your lips and tongue against him are often the quickest way to get him to orgasm. He’s a fan of pushing himself as deeply into your mouth as he can and then releasing, so that all of it goes directly down your throat, because he likes the idea of his cum being in you, even more than just in your cunt. He’s also satisfied with pulling back and coming all over your face, because while it isn’t quite as satisfying as finishing in your mouth, there’s still something lewd and dirty about it, especially if you open your mouth and let your tongue loll out. He’s pretty quiet in bed, mostly just breathing hard or muttering commands under his breath - they’re never too harsh, just things like keep going or say that again. But when he comes, he takes this long, harsh inhale - it’s not quite a gasp, but it sounds too uneven and heavy to be a normal breath. He’s not one to moan too much naturally, but he tries to push down any sort of noise if possible because he doesn’t want to turn you off in case you don’t like it - even if you try to reassure him, he doesn’t really believe you, and he’ll still do the long-inhale-thing rather than let out the little whimper he really needs to. His whole body jerks when he comes, and this normally ends up lodging him even deeper into whatever hole he’s buried in, which adds extra stimulation to his already sensitive cock, making him hiss and grit his teeth. His face gets red as he gets close, too, and it’s a telltale sign that he’s feeling good when his cheeks start blooming pink, all the way down to his neck and over his collarbones. He gets sweaty, too, exertion and holding back any sounds taking a lot of effort, and often his bangs will get stuck to his forehead.

Akira’s favorite way for you to touch him is when you take his cock into your mouth. There’s something about the power dynamic that gets to him, because while he doesn’t inherently view himself as any better than you (he may not show it, but he worships the ground you walk on, if all the stalking and tedious collecting of your information are anything to consider), something just feels right when you’re suckling on him like that, your pretty eyes sparkling up at him through your lashes and tears pricking at your lash line every time you take him just a bit too far down your throat. There’s something endearing about the way that you take him so well, relaxing your throat and bobbing your head over and over, and he especially loves it when you get messy. He likes your spit to be everywhere, dripping down his shaft and onto his balls, dribbling down your chin, just getting everything wet and sticky. He likes the sight of you pulling back and panting hard, a thin strand of saliva and precum connecting his tip to your lip, the sight making him gulp and clutch onto the corner of the chair he’s seated in so tightly that his knuckles turn white. He likes the way your lips are so soft against him, how your tongue is wet and warm and so very dexterous, licking around his tip and dipping in against his slit. He just likes the way you give him so much attention when you’re using your mouth; it makes him feel special and pleased that all your time and effort is going into him, to please him and make him feel good. And if you were to reach down between your legs, your fingers playing with your clit while you bob your head and use your other hand to lightly grope at his balls? Well, hopefully you take getting your throat fucked as well as you do bobbing your head, because the mere sight will have him losing control and needing to fuck something, and your pretty little face is the nearest thing. 

[miyamoratsumuu]

UNSENT LETTERS

↳ he was a writer, you were his muse. and every stroke of his pen reminded him just why all he wished for was to be the one to love you until the end of forever. iwaizumi hajime x female reader wc: 864 note: sappy, lovesick hajime. set around the 1950s or so?? not modern times, basically. phones did not exist yet, and traditional courting was all the rage :D

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haikyuu masterlist

"how many poems have gone unnoticed? my only wish is to be with you until the end"... now playing, leonora by sugarcane

the relationship between you and hajime was like no other. even though he was only courting you now, he treated you as if you were the only woman in the world.

he picked you up from your house for days together, gave both you and your mother flowers whether there was an occasion or not, and visited you after days of not seeing each other. he would have his guitar in hand, giving you a warm smile as he handed you a flower.

"let me sing for you tonight, gorgeous." hajime would sing you songs of adoration, as each chord he played on his guitar matched his voice perfectly. the looks he gave you as he sang were filled with nothing more than genuine fondness, and you felt it.

on days you and hajime were apart, a letter neatly folded inside an envelope was delivered to your front door. every single letter you've received from hajime were words of his longing and endearment towards you, as he never failed to express how much he truly loved you.

"my love, I hope you've been well. I am deeply looking forward to seeing you again soon."

"no matter how bad the rainstorm, your smile is all I need for clear skies, darling."

"I'm half a man whenever I'm apart from you, my beloved."

he loved sending you letters, it was his love language. if he couldn't put his feelings into words, he was confident enough in his writing skills to express his love to you through ink on a piece of paper.

he did it not only to assure you of his undying love but also to prove to you that he was willing to wait. he was willing to spend his days writing letter after letter for you, as long as you knew him for his affection.

the only pieces of writing he never sends you were his poems. each line is made to rhyme with the previous one as they work together to convey your beauty as a person. he could never send you those, as he considered them keepsakes of the parts of you that you only allowed him to see.

all the while hajime will do anything to prove he's worthy of your love. even if it costs him the rest of his life, he'll do it. he needs you to know that you're deserving of someone who would wait a whole lifetime just to love all of you.

hajime loved you. and if the numerous kisses on the cheek and letters that reply to the ones he sent weren't enough, the look in your eyes was enough to tell him that you returned his feelings. he was confident that you loved him.

that was until your smile began to look dim when you spent your days with him. until the warmth in your gaze whenever you looked at him disappeared. and until you stopped replying to his letters.

the day five of his daily letters went un-replied to, he decided to visit your home. only to find out from your next door neighbor that you and your family moved out a week ago. he felt his heart drop as he heard the news. you left. and he didn't know. how could he? you never told him. the only signs you spared were your painfully obvious distancing of yourself from him.

despite his disappointment, his confidence in you loving him didn't falter. he was drowned in his thoughts. he refused to believe that all the days and late nights you spent together meant nothing in the end.

he continued to write for you. day by day, piles of unsent letters and unheard poems filled the corner of his bedroom, each of the envelopes slowly collecting dust from the outside. each letter still contained his commitment to you, and the hope that you will come back to him.

numerous times, he was told that he had to move on and that he could find someone new. he was too young to be throwing away his life for someone who packed their things and left without a word.

he never listened to them. though, he decided to finally write another letter to you. he promised himself it would be the last one for a while.

hajime signed the letter as he set his pen down beside the piece of paper. his gaze traveled to the farthest end of his desk, and then he stood up and left the room before the portrait of both of you with loving expressions could taunt him longer. the last time he felt your presence was in his dreams, and that was weeks ago.

until when was he going to put up with this? until his heart felt numb and until forever ended. he'll wait, for his own sake. you were the reason long before, and it's still you until today. he isn't planning on changing that.

his last letter now sat on top of the pile of unsent ones. that corner of his room now marked the love that was left in him that he could never give to anyone else. 

hajime's until next time:

GILIW KO & AKING SINTA: two filipino terms for "my love"

both letters say the same thing, the right one is just there in case the one on the left is hard to read:)

a/n: guitar player iwa has been on my mind for AGES??? i HAD to somehow incorporate that into this 🙋🏻‍♀️ also, please excuse my editing skills on the first pic, ahahadhauehdahah