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tenjiiku · 2 years

Text

kickass

dear, issei matsukawa

the boy’s eyebrows furrow as he reads the words etched onto the crumpled piece of paper that fell out of his locker moments ago.

if you’re reading this, good. i hope u know this is a threat. don’t mistake this for a love confession. because it isn’t. only in ur dreams!!!

running a hand through his brunette coloured locks, he smiles a little at the sheer amount of sass laced in the small confines of this piece of paper. shutting his locker, he adjusts the strap of his one-strap backpack (which the sender of the letter made sure to add that they absolutely abhorred it with every fibre of their 5 foot something body), and he leans against the metal to read the rest.

i would very much like to punch ur face. but i’m strapped for time.

his eyes narrow and he stops reading. looks away from the paper — left and right — then looks back.

his smile only grows larger.

i will be waiting for u on the rooftop after practice on april 22nd where there will be no witnesses. because i don't want to go to jail. i have dreams after high school after all—

“dude, you okay?” takahiro approaches him with a water bottle. issei gladly takes it, a weird glint now present behind his eyes — one which he only carried during a match. he looks like a man possessed. it disturbs his strawberry-haired accomplice.

the boy takes a look at his friend, he looks down at the note, repeats that notion two more times, then laughs.

“some girl wants to fight me.”

—but for now, one of them involves ruining ur stupid little face! with my fist!!

“oh shit,” his equally stupid counterpart retorts with widened eyes and an intrigued tone, “is she hot?”

both of the boys — dismissing the fact that one of them was threatened with physical assault — laugh at one another, staring at the writing on the lined piece of paper instead.

“i dunno.” issei blinks, flicking the cap of the water bottle off with his thumb after he had twisted it. he takes a swig, returning takahiro’s cheshire smile with one of his own.

“guess i’ll have to find out.”

signed, your greatest nightmare.

the sky is tangerine when he steps outside. issei has not been up here a lot. he takes a deep breath in and out. he should come here more often.

“you’re six minutes late,” a voice pierces the silence, “practice ends at 4:30pm, 5:00 the latest.”

a girl with a face painted with scorn steps into view. issei has to physically hold back a laugh. he shadows her. she seems to notice, as her glare only seems to enhance when her once lightened face is put out.

“are you my greatest nightmare?”

the girl, despite the circumstances, is as relentless as a bull and as hostile-looking as a stray cat. she crosses her arms across her (in issei’s opinion) impressive chest. he tries to erase that thought from his mind. that was rude and kind of creepy of him.

“hell yeah i am.”

issei blinks. the sky’s reddish pink now. much like the girl’s eyes. was he seeing things? possibly.

“uh,” he plays with the collar of his shirt and she looks like she wants to bite him, “okay, alright.”

he scratches his neck, confused. his greatest nightmare in question holds back a smile at his concern. “can i ask why, uh, you wanna do this? you were sorta cryptic in your letter. also, aren't you in calculus one with me?”

the young girl’s mouth forms an ‘o’ but he doesn’t even give her the chance to answer.

“like, i get it if you hate me—,” he brings his other hand, five fingers wide in her face, eyes amplified and an almost sad sense of compassion painted on his features, “i totally do! i understand!”

“wha—”

“honestly, you know what, don’t even tell me.”

bending down, he turns his head to the side, exposing his cheek (and his sharp fuckin jawline). he looks at the girl through his peripheral vision, “go ahead.”

her visceral reaction is to express disturbance. she jumps away — both with perplexity and discomfiture.

“wha—what the fuck is wrong with you?!”

her eyes narrow in on his clear skin.

“are you—are you trying to make me feel guilty?! huh?!”

issei tucks his hands into his pockets, tilting his head to the side with pure, real bewilderment. “no, no, seriously go ‘head.”

her mouth opens and closes, like a fish out of water. her fists unwind and wind back up again, like a malfunctioning robot. ah, maybe he teased her a bit too much.

“are you done?” he asks, calmly.

the sky and her become one colour — and she pushes past him, slamming the rooftop door on her way out. “fuh—fuck you, i’m in food and nutrition!”

issei laughs to himself all the way home.

the next time he meets her is on april 25th, a monday.

it was during the aforementioned food and nutrition class. she was smart, planning her attack on a friday so that the weekend would come between then and now.

unfortunately, her plan backfired.

“hey, what’s wrong with your hands?”

and to add salt to the wound they were put in a group to bake sugar cookies. their other partners busied themselves with preparing the icing, so issei had her all to himself. he planned to use both of their times wisely.

“hives,” her grip on the wooden spoon tightens, as she smiles through her teeth, “no-good-reason hives.”

his eyes widened in surprise, narrowing in on the red welts lining her skin. issei had assumed they were bug bites at first.

“they’re not contagious — the cookies won’t be contaminated,” she answers his question before he even gets the chance to ask it, “the doctor said they are caused by stress though.”

their eyes meet for the first time since the rooftop incident — the message is delivered crystal clear. issei takes a moment to fully appreciate it before leaning one elbow on the counter, levelling down to her height.

she really looked as though she wanted to slap him at that moment. issei had a way with women.

“you know,” he starts, “i still don’t know why you hate me so much.”

her whisking grows more intense. issei takes a step back as flour is lightly thrown onto his apron. he brushes it off with a chuckle, slightly cracking his neck. every movement he makes only seems to annoy the girl further. he continues:

“like, ‘sides the type of backpack i own and how i’m built like a number two pencil,” he recalls the contents of the letter with a pressed grin, “i don't get what i’ve done to get this rep.”

it seems his efforts are in vain — as the girl silently picks up the large mixing bowl. he flinches at the sudden action, prepared to get a heap of flour, baking soda and salt poured over his head.

he closes his eyes but only feels something shoved in his chest. opening them, he sees that she has just passed him it instead of beating him with it.

“shut up and stir the dry ingredients.” she murmurs, eyes to the side and brows furrowed.

“yes ma’am.” he obediently, politely answers. keeping it short and simple. maybe she wouldn’t be offended by this?

wrong. her scowl only grows. she turns around preparing the wet ingredients. he stands beside her, keeping to himself, not bothering her with his many questions or idle chatter.

a moment passes. then another. the tension keeps increasing — until it doesn’t.

“how— how’d you just realise we share food n’ nutrition together?!”

“—so now she’s mad at me ‘cause i didn’t know she was in the same class!”

it is the next day and it is lunch time. issei has his favourite, hamburg steak. the bento box kept it warm, his mother filled his generously. but he is unsettled.

“that’s sort of an asshole move, man,” takahiro, next to him, mumbles through a mouth full of his mother’s gyoza. hajime passes him a napkin.

“oh, come on! like you know everyone in your classes!”

“uh, i do.”

issei glares at his friend who pays him no mind. he leans against his chair, looking out the window. tooru and hajime argue amongst themselves, picking delicacies out of each other’s lunch boxes.

“whatever! s’not like i…. didn’t know who she was. i knew she existed! just got the class wrong, shit.”

he lets his head fall back. takahiro takes a helping of his hamburger steak with his chopsticks. he does not even care.

tooru burps, hajime glowers at his gross behaviour, before letting his attention fall on his friend in distress.

“the way i see it, mattsun,” he hiccups, “she’s been tryin’ to get your attention for so long and you’ve never given her the time of day!”

issei lifts his head. tooru sends him a Tooru Oikawa smile and he rolls his eyes, slapping takahiro’s hand away from his lunch. clearly not getting any comfort from his presumed friends, he channels his worry to his stomach and takes a bite of hamburger steak. it’d always have his back.

“i think she likes you!”

he chokes. hajime pats his back, takahiro passes him his water bottle. he’s getting déjà vu. is he losing his mind?

“bull—shit.” he wheezes through pants, slightly sweaty at the whole ordeal.

“i’m serious!” the brown-haired boy insists, legs under his desk stretching, hitting issei’s feet.

“don’t you think so, iwa-chan?”

issei looks at his most level headed friend with hope. surely, he’d give a reasonable verdict.

“he’s got a point…”

issei gapes. “are you guys serious?!”

his eyes are wide, and he looks back and forth between takahiro, hajime and tooru. they all look at him like he’s the oblivious one. what the hell.

“did we just forget she threatened to assault me last week?!” issei reminds, elbows on his desk and his grip on his chopsticks tightening.

he was not really mad about it. just wanted to play devils advocate and give himself a reasonable explanation, since, clearly, his friends were insane.

“she didn’t go through with it, though…” takahiro murmurs, looking at hajime who nods. he pales.

looking towards tooru — his last hope, which was already a terrible, terrible sign — the light behind his eyes is weak. the brown-haired boy smiles, forming an L shape with his thumb and index finger which he places underneath his chain, and winks.

“i think it’s kinda cute!”

kill him.

“you think she’s dead?” sana whispers.

“dunno, it’s been 20 minutes.” kirari answers, not lifting her gaze from her smartphone.

“should we call an ambulance?”

both girls turn to one another. one, stuffing rice in their mouth. the other, sipping on 2% milk. they shrug and continue with their antics while you lay in front of them on your back, staring up at the ceiling with a blank expression.

“this is it,” you finally say your first sentence since lunch break began, “i have to transfer schools.”

suddenly shooting up, you stand in front of your friends who lean against the wall. the hallway of the maths department was always empty at seijoh; a perfect area to express one’s concerns.

and you were about to lose your mind.

“don’tcha think you’re bein’ a little bit over dramatic?” sana inquires, giggling at the end of her sentence as she watches you trot back and forth.

“no. no i am not.”

kirari rolls her eyes. you bite your bottom lip, dramatically staring out the window on your left.

“i—i can’t show my face,” you surmise, hands burying themselves in your hair like some sort of paranoid person, “he’s— he’s out to get me, i know it.”

“i still don’t know why you dislike—“ you glare at kirari, she sighs, fixing her sentence midway, “hate matsu—“

you fall to your knees, pushing your index finger to her lips. her straw is still in her mouth and her phone almost falls out of her hands. she widens her eyes at your irrationally anxious face. sana chuckles again.

“don’t say his name! he could be listening!”

kirari glares at you, opening her mouth. before she can bite you you already move your hand away. she finishes off her milk, snorting when she recalls what you’d just uttered, placing the empty carton next to the space between her and sana.

“pssh, what is he, god?” she rolls her eyes, looking towards her other currently stable accomplice for a reaction.

“maybe!”

your response only silences both of them. you look back and forth between them, awaiting their next retort that you can argue against. you debated a lot when you got worried. and you were very worried. your plan of punching matsukawa in the face had backfired. he’d caught you completely off-guard, even with all the extra precautions and practise you’d put into the plan! it should have never ended up like this! you just wanted to smack him, graduate, and forget all about his 6ft, bushy browed, toned body and comical personality!

but sana and kirari’s replies only make you want to kill yourself more than you already do.

“y/n-chan, you’re so cute!”

“wish i had someone who talked about me like that…”

“shut up!!!”

it’d been months since the incident. the calm before the storm.

they are paired up for their final food and nutrition assignment — bake one dish using all of the food groups and form a comprehensive brochure detailing its caloric and nutritional content.

they sit next to each other. one, pale. the other, gone deaf.

issei had been trying to get through to you — for the assignment.

he was really doing well in food and nutrition and didn’t want to completely bomb the final assignment which would make up majority of his grade.

so, he let bygones be bygones. really, he wasn’t even upset at you or anything. he felt like he was the one who’d done something wrong — because every time he’d even think about approaching you, you’d run for the hills.

did he smell bad?

anyways. he’d asked around and found out two of your very close friends. it…, wouldn’t be considered weird if he’d approached them, he thinks. it’s for the project. and you did not give him much leeway.

he was desperate.

“hey! hey wait up!” he hollers after he spots the two girls whose descriptions he’d gotten from acquaintances in class.

the school bell for dismissal time had rang. they were near the shoe lockers. it was monday. no volleyball practice. which was perfect.

sana is the first to hear him. she turns around, looking through the hoard of students. it doesn’t take long to spot issei however, as he practically towers over the entire third year student body. her eyes widen, and she loudly shuts her locker close. kirari who leans against the other lockers, is on her phone. when sana yanks her sleeve and tugs her towards issei she’s clearly caught off guard.

“hi!” she exclaims, smiles and all.

issei looks between the two. the students slowly dwindle away. he forces an uncomfortable chuckle as kirari stares at him, unperturbed. he scratches the back of his neck.

“i’m—,”

“we know who you are,” sana interrupts, putting out a hand for him to shake, “it’s a pleasure to run into you, matsukawa-kun.”

“oh, oh okay, great, heh..” issei grabs her hand, giving it a firm shake. he looks in between the two. fuck he should’ve gotten their names. now he really did look like the asshole.

“kirari,” the cool headed girl thankfully doesn’t seem to take offence. neither does her bubbly companion.

“sana!”

“ah, hi, kirari-san, sana-san.” he stutters, noticing he’s still holding onto sana’s hand, to which he quickly lets go of, “i— i’ve seen you guys around y/n, and, well…,”

he drifts off, hoping they’d catch his sentence. sana smiles — and she looks like something akin to a sly fox. issei gulps as the girls share a look.

“oh, y/n-chan! hehe, why, of course!”

kirari looks up at him. a weird glint behind her eyes. issei makes a silent prayer.

“come with us.”

“—and this was y/n totally wasted at kirari’s birthday last year! she’s s’much fun when you give her a drink!”

“heh, oh, wow.”

issei had spent the past half an hour standing between two very gossipy girls. but, it was kind of fun. sana kept him entertained by oversharing her friendship with the girl who was currently the bane of his existence. (or, maybe not existence. that was a bit too much.) kirari had added in her inputs every now and then, but mostly just reacted at sana’s outrageous claims.

but, it was nice. he thinks you have some pretty good friends.

“—sana-chan! kirari—“

at the sound of the voice all three patrons were currently discussing about — they all fell silent. issei thinks about making a break for it but she turns the corner and it is too late.

the smile on your face falls. you blink, eyes instantly landing on the tall frame of the boy you had been avoiding the past couple of days — standing between your precious friends. they wave at you, a teasing smile on their faces.

“hi,” issei mutters, waving his hand awkwardly.

“what…. what is—“ your mouth falls open and close. it reminds issei of the day you first met.

suddenly, sana’s phone blares with a voice all too familiar to yourself. it resembles your own. or, rather, it’s exactly your own after downing a couple of mojitos you’d made at kirari’s place.

issei looks at you with a sense of pity behind his eyes and your cheeks light up. face painting with scorn, you raise your fist in defeat.

“i—i hate you guys!”

you really did not. but you cannot be weak in front of the adversary. running the direction you came in, your heart pounds with such humiliation it consumes your lungs.

now issei had successfully wooed your friends. he’d gotten your troops to rebel against you and what’s more — he pitied you for it. you puff your chest despite your discomfiture.

this meant war.

the next food and nutrition class is quiet. but not the typical quiet that issei was used to. there was an almost visible tension between the two of you. he sits across from you, on the other side of your desk.

he’d moved there when sensei had announced that the pairs should get together to work on their project. you hadn’t made any initiative to come to him, so he came to you. but no matter how hard he stares at you, your gaze remains downcast towards whatever the hell you’re writing.

he bites the inside of his cheek. his older sister said that some girls get really silent when something is bothering them. he gets that. sometimes he does that too.

he’d narrowed down the possibilities of you being upset to two:

you simply did not enjoy being around him, wanted to punch him, etc.

you were upset that your friends had shown him a… vulnerable side of you to your sworn enemy.

taking both rationales into consideration, issei sighs, before forcing a smile onto his face.

“you know, i’m kinda a lightweight myself.”

he murmurs, resting his cheek in the palm of his hand. the other mindlessly scribbles something in his notebook. did he just use a marvel reference in real life? god, he was so cringe.

he dares to look at you, and you dare look at him back. like a deer caught in the headlights. you both widen your eyes simultaneously.

when he sees your lips twitch and a grin form on your face — be it out of embarrassment or whatever — he feels a heat burn in his chest. but as soon as they came — both the burning and the smile — it went.

“just,” you mutter, brows furrowing, “let’s focus on the project, yeah?”

issei snaps out of his trance, chuckling a little and a genuine, small grin slowly morphing itself on his features. “yeah, uh.., ok.”

silence descends upon the two of you. it is normal. the two of you have not much to share. but issei thinks, maybe, because you seem to be in a happy mood, he has the chance to get in your good graces.

“you… look nice when you smile.”

he curses himself when he utters those words. was that not creepy of him? it sounded better in his head. but, you really did. then again, all you’d shown him were the occasional glares or nothing at all. so he was really making do with morsels.

he feels a gaze fall on him. he looks up once more, and notices your flushed face.

“i—“ you furrow your brow, “…shut up.”

your pencil strokes grow more agitated, and issei smiles like a cat. he focuses on his notes, too, encompassing your shorter legs between his longer ones.

he asked for your phone number — for the project.

you gave it to him — for the project.

you text him first. it is right after practice. his shirt was off and he was rummaging through his gym bag when his phone buzzed with a notification.

looking behind him, issei watches as kyoutani and yahaba fight over a towel. takahiro was occupied with chugging water right after his shower, and tooru and hajime were playing candy crush on the latter’s phone.

he looks at his own and notices you have sent him a message. he looks back and forth, left and right, before unlocking his phone.

>> (04:19) [img.034 attached]

>> (04:20) we could make smthn like this

a screenshot of an omurice recipe takes over his screen. his eyes gravitate to the upper portion of your search bar. you were using your cellular data, and your battery seemed to be full.

reading the recipe — he notices it does indeed include ingredients from all of the necessary food groups. he rubs his neck with the towel resting around his shoulders, and sends a text of his own with one hand.

>> (05:32) slay

>> (05:32) that looks yummy 😋

thinking of killing himself for messaging you the way he does to takahiro, issei rubs his temples with his hand. shoving his phone in his bag he pulls out a fresh shirt and puts it on.

shutting his locker close, he holds his bag to his chest. humiliated beyond belief.

another buzz. another text. taking his phone out to meet his fate, he notices you have indeed responded. swallowing a lump of spit that’d formed in his mouth, he swipes to unlock his phone.

>> (05:34) [img.045 attached]

his eyes widen — like the protagonist carrie in the movie carrie he’d watched last night — as he observes the cristiano ronaldo gif you’d sent him. a meme. unlike carrie he wasn’t feeling homicidal. he looks up from his phone to notice only the 2nd years have left. he looks back down when he realises takahiro and company are not watching him.

he gives your image — cristiano — a ‘haha’, goes out to buy profiteroles with his friends and rides the bus home.

he smiles when he thinks about you during dinner.

the next day, of course, your text conversation is the first topic to be addressed between the two of you. when sensei tells partners to get together to work on the assignment — you walk up to him, he walks up to you.

“hi,” he is the first to speak.

you open your mouth, close it, then open it again “..hi.”

you can feel him staring at your hands so you hide them behind your back. he can tell that you’ve hid them because of him and looks up, almost towards the ceiling but not quite.

he starts, “about the—,”

you cut him off midway, both hands up, almost as though in surrender.

“it, was funny,” you blurted out, unthinking, “you’re really funny.”

he makes a sound that’s between a choke and a laugh. you huff a little at the noise. your eyes meet. one, two, three seconds pass. you smile at one another for the first time that day without looking away.

you sit in your bed on your knees, hugging the rilakkuma plushie sana had bought you many months ago on a whim. your phone sits on your pillow, a metre away. you stare at it — contemplating — scratching your left hand with your right.

you breathe in, and lunge for your device.

>> (06:24) brw

the wind is knocked out of your chest when you realise you spelt your abbreviation wrong. and issei had already read it! what the hell!

realising there was no going back, you make a measly attempt of recouping.

>> (06:25) btw**

>> (06:25) u decided what ur gonna do after school yet or nah

you reread your text message 5 times. your heart pounds and you think about setting your hair on fire when you do not a receive a response—

>> (06:27) ye

your phone dings, and you spring up, looking at your device once more.

>> (06:27) prolly gonna major in mortuary science

raising an eyebrow, you relax, resting your elbows in your rilakkuma plushy’s round body. you wonder where he’s sitting right now. wonder what he’s doing. did he just have dinner or does his family have it a little late?

you only manage to type one phrase.

>> (06:27) damn

>> (06:27) ur gonna b playing around w dead ppl

you smack your face with your phone, dramatically falling onto your back. raising your device high, high above your head by stretching out your arms, you watch as the three dots, signifying him typing, come and go.

>> (06:28) lmfaoo

>> (06:28) sorta 😎

you giggle. then you wrinkle your eyebrows at your reaction. you punch rilakkuma in the face.

>> (06:29) my dad owns a funeral home, so, kinda just following in his footsteps 🚶‍♂️

your eyes widen a little at this admission. entertaining the enemy to extract personal information was never part of the plan. but issei was really interesting. and you were a very nosy girl.

>> (06:29) being a mortiscian sounds like a depressing job

you admit. he corrects your spelling shortly after.

>> (06:29) mortician *

>> (06:30) whatever 🙄

>> (06:31) i thought that too

whatever issei was currently typing next must be long, because two minutes had passed — and yet no response. getting bored and growing forgetful, you close imessage and start playing a shitty ad-filled tetris mobile game you watched issei play during class. he had tilted his phone to give you ample viewing, and told you the name after class was over.

a notification banner pops up. you lose the game and read his full response.

>> (06:34) but, u know, helping a deceased one’s family and friends and giving them a well send off is something that takes a lot and i think it’s really beautiful

issei was really, really interesting, you surmise. you only want to punch him in the face even more than you already do.

>> (06:35) …trye

>> (06:35) true**

>> (06:35) now i sound like an household

>> (06:35) asshole**

>> (06:35) tf

your cheeks feel hot. another notification lights them on fire.

>> (06:36) 😭

arguing amongst teenagers is like pigs wrestling amongst themselves in a mud sty. sooner or later the observer figures out that they're enjoying it. kids forget easily, and issei was no exception to this saying.

he rests his head on his arm, which is laid across half of the table. you sit across from him, pencil crayons surrounding your work area which he invades. you’re colouring their brochure — issei had done the research and you were putting it all together. you got permission from your teacher to leave the classroom.

working with you was easy. a melodious 50/50. no icing, but the softest of cakes. issei really liked it that way. he stares at you, head leaning diagonally. his hand’s only a couple centimetres away from the sleeve of your uniform.

if he was not thinking any better, he’d say you were warming up to him.

“the other day you asked me what i was gonna do after graduation,” he interrupts the silent library quiet, you don’t look at him, you’re relaxed, “well, i told you mine. what ‘bout you?”

“ah,” you smile cheekily, staring down at the paper you colour. issei’s eyebrows raise, “i dunno.”

setting your carnation pink coloured crayon down, you stare at him — eye to eye — no intimidation, no worry. issei’s chest pounds.

“i think i’m gonna take a gap year, save a little money, you know.” you admit, resting your head in the palm of your right hand.

he sits up, suddenly growing very self-conscious around your welcoming personality.

“for real?”

“not everyone’s a hundred percent sure like you are, matsukawa-sama,” you jest, grinning directly at him.

issei breaks eye contact first. he doesn’t know where to put his hands. they’re in his lap. that should be fine for now, right?

“i… don’t wanna make any haste decisions.”

your concession surprises him. he looks at you again. you look serious, maybe even a little upset. he always regarded you as someone so well put together. at least more together than himself. but he was a lot like you. in a way.

you add on, “i also don’t wanna end up in thousands of yen in debt.”

that elicits a laugh from him. a light fills his chest. he can almost feel it explode and flow into the dimly lit library the two of you sit in. like a small bubble encompassing only you and him.

“you’re really smart, you know.” he cannot help but compliment you, laying his arm across the table once more. resting his face on it again.

you tense a little at his sentence. he can see you look down. he leans his head so far down until his chin hits the desk.

“what’s that?” his face is below yours now, smiling and bright, “did i just make the y/n smile?”

“shut upppp.” you push his face away with your hand that barely covers his forehead. he laughs.

lifting the brochure, you cough, holding it wide open and next to your face for him to see, “kay, how’s this?”

“pretty.” he says, not looking at the brochure, “really pretty.”

you can sense that he was anxious about something. his frame was hunched, sitting next to you. the sight would be very comical if you were a third party viewer. but you threw yourself on the playing field and he wasn’t making any signs of leaving. so surely you wouldn’t admit defeat and bail before him.

it was never supposed to be like this. but now he was riding the public bus home with you.

“we—, the volleyball match for semi-finals is next week,” he whispers.

the library was busy this week. the two of you were practising your presentation — how you’d discuss your assignment to sensei. you didn’t get much done. you knew there was something on his mind.

“you know—if, you, or, you know, like, you and sana-san and kirari-san aren’t busy,” you turn your face towards him the same time he does. his voice slows down, “you…guys, should come.”

he’s scratching the back of his neck. you’re supposed to say no.

“i—,” what the hell are you saying, “sure, i— i’ll ask… them.”

he smiles, relieved. he was not joking you think, and you pale at the thought.

“cool,” no, no this was not part of the plan.

“cool.” no it is not cool — this was not cool — it was the opposite of cool. turning your sight to the upcoming stop you sigh out of relief when you realise it’s yours.

you stand up. “this… is where i get off.”

do not make eye contact. do not make eye contact. do not make eye contact. do not make eye contact.

“oh— okay, see you.., later?”

you make eye contact. he’s smiling at you. his mouth is stretching so much. you gulp. you feel like puking.

“yeah, yeah, for sure.” the bus heaves, you start walking away, still looking at him over your shoulder. and he’s looking at you. the person in front of you shoves you a little. he looks away for a moment to glare at them. you hurry your footing.

“bye— bye.” you add in, once more. you need to stop.

“bye,” he mumbles just loud enough for you to hear.

he’s watching you from the window when you exit. it is windy and lightly raining. a sun ray beams from out of nowhere, lighting his features. you turn around, smoothing the behind of your pants.

your heart pounds against your chest, you whisper ‘bye’ to yourself as you walk on the sidewalk, 7, 8, 9, 10 times in different tones of voice.

he was blushing, you recall.

why the hell was he blushing?

the next week, seijoh had lost. but you did enjoy seeing matsukawa sweaty and desperate.

sana and kirari say something about oikawa being incredibly delicious looking on the court, even though he’d fallen on his ass setting his last ball to iwaizumi. but you weren’t really paying attention to him before that.

you leave them without saying anything — but you are certain that both of them know you would not leave with them. waiting near the doors of the gymnasium is awkward. especially as hoards of students, parents and other guests leave. they occasionally stare at you — probably thinking you’re someone lame just loitering around.

but you look down. waiting only for one person.

you don’t know how much time had passed. but as you finally hear nothing at all, you know he’s about to come.

the gymnasium’s door opens for the umpteenth time that day. you put your hands in the pocket of you sweater. the sound of sneakers approach you. you look up, and see him.

“hey,” he says, towel around his neck, still wearing his uniform, “uh, sorry you had to, ah, see that.”

you cough, standing up straight and lifting your back from the wall. adjusting your skirt, you put down your hoodie.

“what’re you talking about? you all played really, really well.” and you meant that genuinely.

issei makes a face between a smile and a grimace. you cannot help the grin that forms enough

“ah, well,” he trails off, looking down the empty school hallway, “not well enough.”

you raise your eyebrows. you thought they played really well. but, it was a sad occasion you suppose. the 3rd years wouldn’t be able to play again — at least for their seijoh’s team — after this. you sigh.

“you gave it your all,” you daringly place a shaky hand on his arm, “i just hope oikawa-san didn’t break his leg going for that set, though.”

issei laughs a little at your remark. you’re glad. flowers bloom in your chest at the first positive sounding noise to leave his mouth.

“he’ll bounce back,” he looks back at you, voice hushed, only directed towards you, “he always does.”

he says it with so much sincerity it makes your heart quake. you look away to a random corner. just say it, just say it — “you— you were especially, really.., great.” — you said it!

looking back up at him, his face is flushed, despite the fact that you know he had just cooled down. was it because of you? the prospect makes your stomach flutter.

“thanks — thank, thank you.” he manages to stutter.

an awkward silence falls. the telltale sounds of tooru serving the ball, and it hitting the floor with a resounding ‘thump’, followed by takahiro’s loud complaints is all that is heard. you feel a little out of place.

“so—…”

“i, should get going.”

you both pause in your sentences, looking at each other, waiting. it seems as though he pleads first, as he complies with your statement.

“oh, uh, yeah—,”

“no— no, uh, were you gonna say something?”

“huh— uh, no— nah,” he shakes both his hands in front of your face, dismissively, “i should get going too. coach’s probably…”

when you sense now is not the time, you comply as well. which was very out of character for you. but it was for him — you suppose.

“yeah, uh,” you escape from in front of him, walking backwards as he turns his frame to watch you leave, “bye— bye!”

he smiles, “bye..”

you nod, bowing, for some reason. you want to die. but not in front of him. so you turn away, running, letting the heat in your chest simmer.

now you are lying in his room. only a couple of months have passed since you embarked in this idiosyncratic affair with your number one combatant. but they do say to keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

“graduation’s in a couple months,” you throw your foot over his leg. what a load of bullshit that saying was, “i just, was wondering…”

he lowers his arms, his hands holding a psp, high enough to display his gameplay to both yourself and him. you chew on the red bean rice bun his mother gave you as a snack.

“yes?”

you heave a sigh, swallowing the sweet dessert whole, licking your fingers. you can feel him stare. you stop.

“you have a ride to the ceremony?” you ask.

his hold on his gaming console falters. it would be quite funny if he dropped it on your face, you reckon. you deserve that much.

“uh, yeah— yeah,” he mumbles, “my, uh, parents are gonna drop me off, and, uh, attend…, too.”

you jut out your bottom lip, nodding your head. “ah, …nice.”

putting his play station down, he rolls over onto his side. his left hand bent at the shoulder, holding his head, and his right hand laid over his side, holding his psp. his bicep flexes — and your eyes dart to the area. dumb idiot was just showing off.

he stares at you. for a while. you look up at the ceiling, wondering how you got here. wondering why it feels good. truthfully you know the answer. you like him. you like him a lot. and maybe he likes you, too. he did show you his one piece figurines the other day and cried with you while watching the jungle book (1967). you don’t think most boys would do that without someone they — at the most — tolerated.

“was there anything else?” his voice is close.

you turn your head over, hair sprawling itself over his sheets, looking him in the eye. maybe he liked you. but you were a bit afraid.

you shake your head. his eyes widen, then rest.

“oh— okay.”

he resumes his game, although he becomes more sloppy with his play style. you think it’s because of you. you really hope it’s because of you.

the graduation ceremony came with much fanfare. it was a bit boring, though. issei had to wake up extra early to iron his clothes and walk the dog. he was becoming an adult man but that didn’t mean he was exempt from chores, his mother told him.

whatever the hell that meant.

he received his diploma, shook the principal’s hand, another teacher’s hand, then another teacher’s hand, his parents made a big commotion taking pictures, and he sat back down.

he’d watched you receive yours as well. but you did not make eye contact with him. that bummed him out a little.

but the ceremony was now complete. surrounded by his friends and finally being able to talk freely without the weight of being told to be quiet is exciting. but his eyes travel everywhere around the hall, looking for one person.

his phone buzzes with a notification. and another. and another. and then another.

>> (5:00) issei

>> (5:00) pls.

>> (5:00) meet me outside near the gymnasium exit

>> (5:01) it’s an emergency

he never told takahiro, hajime, and tooru farewell so quickly. he’d never ran so quickly. you took a lot of his firsts.

finally, he spots you. standing. unmoving. he breathes a sigh of relief, crouching down in front of you and placing his hands on his knees.

“you know, you have a knack of calling me to the weirdest meeting places—”

“i—, i really like you.”

that shuts him really quickly. he feels like he’s in a fever dream. it is quite hot out and his graduation cap and gown are not making this any easier.

“i can’t look at you please shut up.” you mumble, nimbly, even though he was not speaking.

“uh, okay..” he obeys, standing up straight.

“shut up— don’t.., just,” he can see you somewhat kneel over, as though you were feeling lightheaded, “i can’t talk properly when i’m looking at you.”

“i… think you’re really, cool. and i like that. i, wanna know more about you.”

his heart hammers like the wings of a dragonfly. the sound of cicadas serve as background noise. he feels fuzzy.

he walks up to you, in a daze, and he can only engulf you in his arms. “i really like you too,” he utters, breathless, “i like you a lot.”

��a lot?”

“a lot.”

his arms tighten around your frame. he can feel you shiver a little and it only makes his cheeks burn even more. turning you around — and you, strangely, letting him — he cups your face in his hand. he is dreaming. he must be.

“can i kiss you?”

“no. no i’ll die.”

he laughs. perhaps he isn’t.

“you’re really dramatic, you know,” he brushes your cheekbone with his thumb, “i… like that about you.”

“please,” he leans in close, he wants to be the only thing on your mind, he’s so happy he can die, too, he thinks, “can i please kiss you?”

“..okay.”

he kisses the girl who wrote him a letter 4 months prior, behind the gymnasium doors, after graduation. it is mundane — the context is odd — but it makes his mind soar.

you walk, hand-in-hand, back to your people.

“is this not stockholm syndrome?” takahiro murmurs. “they both seem to be happy.” hajime shrugs. “mattsun, i’m so proud!” tooru cheers, earning him a knee to his leg.

he lets you go for a moment — but his eyes still remain on you. you’re laughing with kirari and sana. he doesn’t mind the teasing. he’s enjoying himself a lot.

you look at him mid-conversation and smile, blushing. he smiles, blushing back.

they finished food and nutrition with flying colours.

#matsukawa x fem reader #issei matsukawa x reader #matsukawa x reader #writing

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stawbeemilk · 2 months

Text

⤷ pet names they call their s/o – hq

✩ characters: various

✩ warnings: f!reader

✩ a/n: it's been a long week but i'm back and (finally) off shift, so hopefully i'll be able to get some more writing done soon!!

⭑ babe, baby, sunshine

he's definitely the type of boyfriend who refers to you by pet names more than your actual name. he will call you these with the biggest smile and so much fondness in his eyes, and it literally makes your heart melt every time.

⤷ bokuto, hinata, nishinoya, komi, tendou, inuoka

⭑ sweetheart, darling, gorgeous

ugh he's so charming. he loves to call you these out of nowhere when you're least expecting it, enjoying the way you get all embarrassed and stumble over your words. he always knows exactly how to make your heart flutter and your stomach erupt with butterflies.

⤷ kuroo, akaashi, sugawara, oikawa, fukunaga, hirugami, kai

⭑ pretty girl, doll, princess

he's such a tease, his favourite time to call you these is when you're mad at him because he knows it will catch you off guard and fluster you to no end, regardless of how angry you are. he's so smug about it too, it’s so infuriating but so hot at the same time.

⤷ suna, matsukawa, kyotani, konoha, semi, iwaizumi

⭑ love, my love, my dear

he doesn't call you these all that often, and so when he does it only makes it that much more meaningful. he might not always be the most expressive, but you see the way his gaze softens when he looks at you, and it's clear from that alone just how much he adores you.

⤷ ushijima, daichi, kageyama, aone, sakusa, washio, kita

⭑ bubs, cutie, bunny

he was a little embarrassed about referring to you by pet names at first, but now he finds that they just effortlessly roll off his tongue. he's a sucker for cute and sappy nicknames like these because he thinks they fit you perfectly.

⤷ kenma, yamaguchi, lev, koganegawa, goshiki, komori

⭑ dove, honey, angel

it honestly surprises his friends when they overhear him calling you one of these, because as far as they're concerned it seems so out of character for him. if only they knew what he was like behind closed doors, they'd soon realise just how soft he really is for you.

⤷ yaku, tsukishima, futakuchi, yahaba, daishou, osamu

⭑ hot stuff, sugar, my queen

he's such a simp for you. you can never tell if he's joking or if he's totally serious when he calls you these, but regardless of how much it might make you cringe, you can't deny that you find yourself fighting back a smile at how ridiculous he is.

⤷ tanaka, hanamaki, yamamoto, terushima, atsumu

⤷ please do not repost my works on any other sites!

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teamatsumu · 3 months

Text

all eyes on you. (seijoh 4 x reader)

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

word count: 1k

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi @sleepyxxhead

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#iwaizumi hajime x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #hanamaki takahiro x reader #matsukawa issei x reader #seijoh 4 #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #iwaizumi hajime smut #oikawa tooru smut #hanamaki takahiro smut #matsukawa issei smut #haikyuu smut #hq smut

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bitch-for-bo · 6 months

Text

The Better Brother (artist! Matsukawa x chubby fem reader) 18+

miss me? ;)

NSFW; MINORS GTF OUTTA HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!

TW: you're a cheater BUT you only cheat on a cheater asshole AND we support women's wrongs :))))

summary: Your fiancé leaves you across the ocean to sort out this whole 'wedding' thing all by yourself. Well.... lets just say that YOU get sorted out instead ;).

(((((((((loosely based on the movie Moonstruck (heavily recommend!!!!))))))))))

“Married?....... You want to get married?......to me?”

You wondered what you looked like at the moment, you wondered if your eyes were bugging out of your head or if your jaw looked completely locked in its unhinged position.

It definitely felt like they were.

It felt like your whole world had just come crashing down around you. All because of those 4 little words.

“Why not? You’ve taken care of me for the last 5 years, I want to take care of each other for the rest of our lives.”

…..this wasn’t a part of your plan.

You didn’t quite know what your life plan was…. But it definitely wasn’t this.

“Why now?” you whisper, noticing that for every second you didn’t answer your boyfriend with an ecstatic yes, another restaurant patron's eyes locked onto you. You could feel your face growing hot with embarrassment and yet you still couldn’t blindly accept this proposal, not without knowing why.

“Why not now?” he asked, taking your hands into his. You could see the sweat starting to form on his hairline, the anxiety of public rejection becoming apparent in his tone as you worked to avoid his gaze.

Why not now?

Does he not hear himself? Why not now?

“I just-” you stuttered out, taking your hands back into your own laps, wiping the moisture off your palms against your thighs.

“-Just hear me out!” He cut you off, perhaps a bit too loudly as well, seeing as the crowd of nosy spectators seemed to be inconspicuously growing by the second. He looked frazzled, in fact, this might have been the most affected that you’d ever seen him. Usually, he was the cool-headed one, the blasé, jaded businessman. But now he sat, his voice raising with each word, face red with humiliation. He looked panicked, far too panicked for the situation.

“My mother…” He started, clearing his throat, trying to collect himself before he could make a fool of himself in public.

Ahh… his mother

you thought….. That was obviously why he was so panicked. That was why he was asking you this all of the sudden.

His mother was pressuring him.

Well, the joke is on him, you’re not gonna give in just because of the wishes of his mother.

“....My mother is dying.”

If your eyes weren’t bulging out of your head before, they definitely were now.

“w-What- when?..... Oh god….” you gasped, the guilt automatically washing over you as you watched your partner's face melt into worry, his brows knitting together as you brought your hands back onto the table to envelope his.

“They called me this morning…. They asked me if I could fly back home to….. ya know?”

“Of course..” you nodded, “you need to be with her right now…. Have you booked your flight yet? Should I try to book it now?”

Now listen…. It was a serious situation. And a horrible one at that, and you were 100% devoted to getting your partner home to his dying mother. But you couldn’t deny that you were also trying to steer the conversation back away from marriage.

But he wasn’t going to let you forget.

“Darling please….” he sighed, squeezing your hands in his, “my mother, she once told me that all she wants in this world… all she wants… is to see me happy… to see me married. And I want you to marry me.”

“God….” you sighed “I just….. You’re sure you want me?...”

He nods, holding your gaze.

It felt like his eyes were melting into your face. And if that wasn’t bad enough, there were still a good handful of people burning holes into your back. They were all expecting an answer.

Not only that, they were expecting a particular answer. An answer you weren’t sure that you were ready to give.

But for god's sake, the man’s mother was dying, and he pretty much made it sound like her dying wish was for her son to marry. If you said no now you’d be a monster.

Against your better judgment, you glanced around the restaurant, your eyes meeting the eager gazes of not only fellow patrons but staff as well. God, was that a tray of champagne waiting??

After scanning the room, your eyes finally made it back to the man who just asked you to marry him.

“Yes.” you whispered, offering him a small, unsure smile.

A smile that he returned tenfold, announcing to the restaurant, “she said yes!” prompting applause and congratulatory champagne.

He slipped the ring onto your finger, kissing your hands as you sat and watched him with that same small smile on your face.

“Now of course, I’ll have to fly out to my mother, but we should get married as soon as possible.” He said, dropping your hands to take a long drink of champagne. “I trust you want to organize the wedding?”

So much was happening, staff was swarming around you, pouring drinks and grabbing your hand to inspect the ring, and the restaurant chatter had resumed, and somehow along the way a violinist had been called in to serenade you as well.

You felt like your brain was being torn into 5 different pieces, all equally painful and all equally taxing.

You couldn’t even answer his question before he’d moved on in the conversation, rambling about flight times, how long he’d be staying, and who was going to fill in for him at work.

You were definitely overstimulated by the complete chaos surrounding you, but you told yourself it would be okay, that you could just zone out until he eventually tired and decided to drag the both of you home for the night.

Were you ready to get married? Hell no! But what were you supposed to do?

God, what would your parents say about this? Marrying a man nearly 20 years your senior. Did you love him? Of course!

….well…..maybe…… you definitely felt a strong connection with him……. so then what was this dread?

It was just anxiety. It had to be. After all, you had never planned to get married in the first place. You’d seen one too many marriages fail, one too many couples grow to hate each other and you’d sworn it off.

It wasn’t that you hated marriage in particular, you’d seen plenty of happily married people, you suppose it was just the fact that in your mind, it was impossible for you to be one of those happily married people.

You’d never been good at relationships. In fact, your current relationship had been eerily long. Usually, something would’ve happened by now. You would’ve walked in on him cheating, or you would’ve woken up to all of his stuff gone. But that hadn’t happened yet.

So maybe it was love, you told yourself. Maybe he was the love of your life and you were ready to get married.

After all, 5 years is a crazy long time, right?

Far too long to stay with a man you didn’t love……right?

What had you gotten yourself into?

Within the week, your now fiance had booked a flight out to his home city, leaving you behind with a long wedding to-do list.

On the positive side, after your initial dread spiral, you were feeling much better. You reminded yourself that everything happened for a reason and that there was no reason that your marriage couldn’t be any less fulfilling than the last five years had been.

You reminded yourself that your partner had stuck with you for five years, that kind of stuff doesn’t just happen to people who aren’t ready for marriage.

Anyways, you felt much better….. Happy even.

Your parents definitely could’ve taken the news of you marrying an older man…… better….. But at the end of the day, they admitted that as long as you were happy… they were too.

In all honesty, you think that they were mostly just relieved that you found someone to marry you.

Your family would never say it out loud, but you often thought that none of them believed you would ever find someone to be with. Deep down you felt like your parents always betted on your siblings for things like inlaws and grandchildren.

And you couldn’t blame them necessarily. You weren’t the conventional definition of beauty (a fact that all of your exes had brought to your attention sooner or later) and you definitely didn’t have low standards.

This meant that you forever lived in a limbo of never being “good enough” or “pretty enough” but never being willing to settle. So where did that leave you?

Alone.

Alone until you found your fiance.

To be honest, it was rough at first. He was this bigshot investor that was only slightly younger than your father and for some reason, he’d taken an interest in you, his (used to be) intern.

At first, you ignored the attention, young and uncomfortable with the idea that an older man could find you desirable. In your field, you were used to all of the finance bros, who wanted you in the bedroom but never in public.

But slowly, as he managed to worm his way into your daily schedule, you found yourself warming up to him. He’d walk past your desk each day, sometimes leaving you a coffee with a little winking face drawn on the side, sometimes he would smooze as you took the elevator with him, but most of the time it was him just making small comments along the lines of “you take care of me so well,” or “I’m lucky to have you looking out for me” which slowly transitioned into “i love the way you take care of me” and “am I lucky enough to take you to dinner”

Before you knew it, five years had passed. And while you’d technically never defined your relationship in words, or moved in with each other, or even met each other's families, you still thought of yourselves as dating…. well……engaged now.

You looked down at the to-do list that sat on the cafe table. Most of it was fairly straightforward, arrange the flowers, get the caterer, cake-tasting, wine-tasting, the list went on.

The one bullet point on the list that definitely wasn’t straightforward was the last one.

Invite Matsukawa

Apparently, your beloved fiance had an estranged brother. A younger brother whom he hadn’t spoken to for the last 10 years.

An estranged brother that you were in charge of tracking down and inviting to your wedding.

What could possibly go wrong?

He was a fucking mortician.

That's what could go wrong.

Your fiance had given you a little bit of background on his brother, and from the sounds of it, he seemed to be a fairly normal person. But come on…. How many normal people were morticians?

But nevertheless, you had told your fiance that you would do it. You would do it so that he could reunite with his brother and restore their relationship. Would it be a little weird for you? Yes. But it seemed that recently you’d been kicked out of your comfort zone, and apparently weren’t allowed back in.

So you’d looked up the address to the funeral home Matsukawa worked at, and decided that your goal for the day was to somehow convince him to come to his brother’s wedding.

Now all you had to do was work up the nerve to go in and actually talk to him.

You glanced out of the cafe’s window at the funeral home.

It’s not like it was overwhelmingly off-putting. It looked crisp and clean, a great place to bring your recently lost loved one……. But that didn’t mean it didn’t still give you the heebie-jeebies.

You looked back down at your coffee. There was probably only a sip or two left, which meant that you could no longer put this off.

Hesitantly, you left the coffee shop, holding your almost empty coffee cup as a shield of sorts as you approached the front doors of the funeral home.

You opened the doors.

It was quiet.

As to be expected.

You walked up to the empty reception desk, inspecting it for some kind of bell or button to alert someone of your arrival, but much to your dismay there was no such thing.

You looked around you, there wasn’t much to see in the lobby area, an expensive-looking rug, a nice velvet-covered loveseat, and a couple of potted plants…. Other than that there really wasn’t-

“-Fucking christ!” you gasped, jumping at the sight of a man's disembodied head peering through an open cut out in the wall.

You clutched your chest, trying to recover as he simply watched you, not even bothering to move. All the man did was grin at you, having the audacity to chuckle at your display of fright.

“Shit…” you breathed, turning your back to the man while trying to regain the quickly diminishing confidence that you had, you know, the confidence that was barely there to begin with.

A couple of deep breaths later, you decided that you felt stable enough to face the mystery man again. Now that the initial surprise/fear had passed, only dread and a smidge of anger remained.

Like, who the fuck would do that?? For all they know, you were a prospecting customer who’d just lost a loved one and you were greeted with the harrowing sight of a man’s head in a window.

You turned around, not sure if you should demand an apology, or issue one, when you were greeted with the sight of perhaps the prettiest man you’d ever seen.

Yes, he was the same weird man that had literally just pretended to be a severed head, but hey… first impressions were rough.

You opened your mouth to speak, still unsure of what to say, but thankfully, he spoke first.

“Sorry about that, it’s never gone over well and yet I keep trying.”

Wow his voice was deep, but not deep like ‘trying to be deep’ or even like ‘just woke up deep’ it was just… deep.

It was nice.

You were engaged.

Why was that so hard to remember?

You let out a small laugh before clearing your throat.

“Well, it was… interesting, I’ll give you that.”

He gave you another lopsided grin, but said nothing, forcing you to try and remember why you walked into the building in the first place.

Fiance’s brother. Right.

“Anyways, I’m here today because I’m looking for Maksukawa, is he working today?”

“Is something wrong” he asked, a much more acceptable mask of professionalism slipping over his features. You shifted from heel to heel, wondering if you should really tell this man about your fiance’s private family life.

“Nope, just here to talk with him.” you settled on that. Surely you wouldn't be asked for more.

“How do you know him?”

Of fucking course you’d be asked for more. Because having things go your way is just too much to ask.

“Oh, I’m just his brother’s fiance.” you said, trying to keep your voice light and unworried.

But as soon as you said it, the man’s eyebrows shot up and his jaw (which was gorgeously sharp) became set.

And while that reaction was a little weird, and definitely raised a little suspicion, you decided to ignore it and press forward.

“You see, I’m here to invite him to the wedding on behalf of my fiance.” You took a step closer to the desk that the man had retreated behind as you said it, trying your best to keep your shoulders squared and the pep in your step.

“He’s not interested.” the man, who had been nothing if not good-natured up till now, turned away, affirming your suspicions.

“You’re Matsukawa aren’t you?”

He ignored you and instead turned to head back through a set of swinging doors behind him, leaving you slack jawed and speechless.

Your partner had warned you of his brother’s standoffishness, but when you’d asked about why they hadn’t talked in 10 years, you received no clear answer. But judging by the way Matsukawa just left you in the dust, something big must’ve happened.

Nevertheless, you weren’t one to step down from a fight, no matter how scared or uncomfortable you were, so you followed him through the back doors into a little room with lockers lining the wall.

“I’m right, right? You’re Matsukawa?”

His back was facing you as he closed the door to his locker, his shoulders were definitely tensed but not nearly as much as one would expect considering the fact you were definitely not allowed back here, a rule which you rudely defied.

“My friends call me Issei.”

“Okay Issei, I’m here to-”

He turned towards you, his eyes flicking over your body once, before cutting you off.

“I said my friends, not some kid who's marrying my bastard brother.”

Once again, your jaw dropped. What the fuck was it about these brothers making you at a complete loss for words?

“Excuse me?”

Seriously, did their mother not raise them properly?

Their mother. That’s why you were there. Their mother is dying and her dying wish was for her son to be married.

You didn’t give him a chance to respond before continuing before you lost your nerve.

“Listen, I’m just here to invite you to the wedding. I’m not sure what went down between you and your brother, but I do know that he wants you at our wedding. Anyways, he’s family and family forgives each other, so please just take this.”

You held out the RSVP invitation to Issei, you set your jaw firmly and squared yourself in front of him, showing him that you wouldn’t tuck your tail and run.

He looked you up and down again. You tried not to focus on how his gaze made your stomach flip and your ears burn.

“How old are you?” He asked, his eyes landing on the invitation pinched between your prettily manicured fingers.

“Does it matter?”

Issei’s eyes traveled up your wrist to your arm, then shoulder, then neck, before finally landing on your face. He grinned at the look on your face, because while it was clear you were trying to keep a fire in your eyes, you were just about as intimidating as a puppy.

“It does.”

“Can I ask why?”

Issei took a step forward, narrowing the distance between the two of you until there was only a couple of inches.

“Because I know how old my brother is, and I wanna know why a girl who was in diapers when he was joining a frat is standing in front of me, saying she’s his fiance.”

Your eyes, which had been locked on his, standing your ground, flicked to the ground.

“So what is it, the money? The house? Did he accidentally knock you up? Let me guess, he’s your boss and you just wanted to stay his favorite, you didn’t even mean to get that drunk at the company party. Is that it? Or did you-”

Before you knew what was happening, you’d already reached your hand between the two of you and slapped Issei across the face.

For the first time since you’d met him, that stupid grin was gone, and in its place a look of surprise. You spoke before he could.

“Listen here,” you said in a low tone, trying to keep your voice from shaking due to the adrenaline flooding through your body,

“You don’t know me. You’ve never met me, never talked to me, and you sure as hell have never gotten close enough for me to disclose jack shit to you, much less how I met and got involved with your brother. I get that you guys don’t like each other, but that is no fucking reason to get pissy with me. In fact, how dare you talk about me like that? It doesn’t matter if your brother wronged you a thousand times over, you have no right to talk to me in that disgusting manner.”

You stopped to take a breath, closing your eyes so that you wouldn’t see Issei and chicken out of your speech.

“Now. I’m leaving, and I’m leaving you with the invitation to this stupid fucking wedding. You can come or not, I don’t care. Goodbye.”

Before he could respond you turned on your heel and fled back through the set of double doors, back into the safety of the main lobby. Once you were on the street again, you let yourself slow down, releasing the breath you’d been subconsciously holding.

You couldn’t believe that you’d done that, it was almost like you’d blacked out. You really couldn't even remember what you’d said. Oh god, hopefully you didn’t say anything too rash.

Even if Issei deserved it, he was your partner’s brother…..

….maybe you were too harsh.

You scolded yourself as you walked down the street, trying as best as you could not to look like a crazy person, muttering to yourself as you made your way back to your apartment.

The guilt and worry of what you’d said and how you’d behaved was eating at you. Did Issei deserve to be slapped? Yes! 100 fucking percent he deserved it.

But still….

If he hated his brother before you’d done that, he most definitely hated him even more now.

Maybe, you thought as you laid down to sleep, you could try and go by the funeral home tomorrow to smooth things over.

Maybe you could use the stress of the wedding as an excuse to why you’d slapped him, yeah…that was a good idea.

…or at least the best idea you had.

And while you tossed and turned with guilt over slapping your fiance's younger, very good-looking brother, Issei was in a similar boat.

Well… kind of.

He didn’t necessarily feel guilty over how he treated you. He was just being honest, there was no way in hell he’d attend his lousy brother’s wedding, that bastard could apologize a thousand times over for what he’d done and Issei still wouldn’t forgive him.

No, what he did feel guilty about though is the fact that he pretty much blew any chance he had of seeing you again.

If Issei was a better person he’d feel guilty about his feelings for you, fortunately he never claimed to be one.

He’d given up on sleeping hours ago, the only thing that closing his eyes got him was visions of you. The look on your face when you scolded him, the sting that your palm had left against his jaw.

And christ your body….

If Issei had believed in God, you were definitely her.

He could drown in you if you’d only let him.

So without any other way to soothe himself or fall asleep, he drank. A little too much if he’s being honest. So much that he didn’t even care when his neighbors slammed on his walls to tell him to turn his records down.

He preferred to sulk this way. That was what he was doing, sulking over a beautiful woman that he’d never see again, over a woman who was going to marry his brother, his enemy.

And as the night went on, the bottle of booze in his hand emptied further, until he nearly saw double as he worked on anything to distract himself from thoughts of you.

Perhaps when he said you were God he meant the opposite, God could never plague him like you were. You were a devil, a devil committed to his devil brother…. The thought made him feel a little better. Not much of course.

He eventually called into work, leaving some half-ass excuse on their answering machine as to why he wouldn’t be coming in that day, before dragging himself to bed. He was drunk enough to sleep, but not drunk enough to escape dreams of you.

The next morning, bright and early, you stood outside of the funeral home with two fresh coffees in hand and an optimistic smile on your face. Today was the day that you would convince Issei to come to the wedding if it was the last thing you did.

To be honest, you were completely ready to give up and tell your fiance that his brother had died some terrible death within the last 10 years, but as soon as you’d heard his voice over the phone, asking if you’d been able to convince Issei yet, you chickened out of it.

You didn’t know if you were just feeling extra sentimental or if it was your fiance whining about how now that his mother is dying, family is the most important thing, but you now stood on the sidewalk in front of Issei’s workplace with a renewed vigor and immovable stubbornness.

You walked into the building, scanning the lobby, making sure that Issei wasn’t pretending to be a floating head again.

You frowned at the sight of an empty lobby, walking slowly up to the desk as if you were expecting the gorgeous mortician to jump out at you at any moment.

“Hello?” you called out, trying to crane your neck to look through the small windows of the double set of doors that you’d been through yesterday.

“Hi there!” you heard a new voice come from a different direction.

When you turned your head, you were slightly disappointed to find an unfamiliar young woman, dressed in black, smiling as she walked behind the desk to help you.

“Hello,” you replied, trying to hide your disappointment with a small smile, “I’m looking for Matsukawa, is he here?”

“He actually called in sick today, I’m sorry.”

Your shoulders must’ve sagged a little because the woman looked at you curiously, her eyebrow raising.

“Can I ask why you’re asking for him?”

“Oh it’s nothing,” you sighed, “I’m just engaged to his brother and I’m supposed to convince him to come to the wedding. We got off on the wrong foot yesterday so I thought I’d swing by today and try again.”

The look of shock on the woman’s face was enough to make you straighten your back and hold your coffee a little closer to your body. She must’ve noticed your discomfort as she quickly apologized.

“Sorry, I just totally didn’t expect that to be the reason…. I feel really bad telling you this, but I don’t think you should waste any time on that. Issei hates his brother.”

So Issei’s coworker knows what happened but you don’t? Was your fiance trying to set you up for failure???

“Well, if you don’t mind me asking, what happened?”

A look came over the woman’s face, that look that says ‘I’m not supposed to be talking about this, but I absolutely LOVE talking about it’. She leaned over the counter, gesturing you to lean in closer.

“Ten years ago, Issei was engaged to this woman, beautiful girl, a real pretty lady, they’d met in school and decided to get married young so they could start having kids. So one day, Issei gets off work a little early, so he decides to surprise her at her place, and what does he find when he gets there? His brother, buck-naked in her bed.”

“No!” you gasped, horrified at the image of your fiance home-wrecking his brother.

“Yes! So Issei’s pissed right? Screaming and throwing shit everywhere, his fiance’s crying, the neighbors are yelling, and what does his brother do?”

The look of suspense on your face was prominent enough to make the woman behind the desk grin as she paused in dramatic effect.

“He tells Issei that it’s been going on for months and that they’re running off together.”

“What?” you scoff, leaning back away from the woman in awe.

You couldn’t believe what you’d heard. Is that really the kind of man you were about to marry?

“Worst part about it, is that since Issei’s so much younger than his brother, the girl wasn’t any older than 20 while Issei’s brother was nearly thirty six!”

“So what happened?” You asked, feeling slightly faint at the overwhelming amount of information you’d received.

“Nothing, Issei was heart broken, his brother ran off with his girl and there was nothing he could do about it. That’s why they haven't talked in 10 years. And from the sound of it, the whole family took the brother’s side so now Issei doesn't talk to them either.”

You wondered if you looked like a gaping fish at the moment as you grappled with yourself, trying to find words to say. You couldn't believe that your fiance could do something so heinous.

He stole the love of his brother’s life, and obviously it never went further than an affair because he’d never even mentioned his ex to you.

Of course, now that you thought about it, he didn’t mention much of anything to you.

The woman must’ve seen the turmoil on your face and taken pity on you because she reached under the desk and pulled a sticky pad and pen out and started jotting things down.

“Anyways, I’m just gonna give you his address, it’s not too far from here. Swing by if you're brave enough, but now that you know the history, you can’t blame him if he doesn’t wanna talk to you.”

You nodded and thanked her as she handed you the sticky note.

“Now that I know, the only thing I feel is guilty about how I treated him yesterday.” you looked up at the woman, offering a grateful smile “thank you for telling me.”

She waved you off as you began leaving the lobby, “Don’t mention it, I hope everything works out the way it should!”

With one last thank you, you left the funeral home and started off down the street towards Issei’s apartment. With the newfound knowledge of the brother’s history you now realized that asking Issei to come to the wedding was like asking him to reopen old wounds.

And hell, with what you just found out you weren’t sure you wanted to marry this guy anymore. You know what they say, once a cheater, always a cheater. Could you really trust that he hadn’t done the exact same to you in the last five years?

Anyways, the very least you could do now was apologize to Issei and hope that the two of you could treat this like water under the bridge.

So that’s where you’d gotten to where you were. Sitting at his kitchen table as you watched him nurse his hangover with the coffee you brought him and a plate of breakfast that you’d cooked for him.

You watched as he poked at the eggs with his fork.

“Sorry, I didn’t know how you liked them.” you apologized, your voice coming out much squeakier than indentinded. But based on the fact that you were sitting across from perhaps the most gorgeous man you’d ever met who still had bed head and was only sporting a loose fitting pair of black sweatpants, you’d say you were doing pretty good at keeping your voice calm.

“No, they’re good… thank you..” Issei muttered, keeping his eyes on his plate. He couldn’t look up at you right now.

The first thing he’d woken up to this morning was you knocking on his door, and normally that wouldn't have been so bad. In fact, he could think of few things better than the sight of a pretty girl waiting for him on his doorstep. The only reason he didn’t enjoy your early morning visit was because it gave him no time to take care of his raging morning wood, which was significantly worse than usual thanks to you being the star of his dreams the night before.

He glanced up from his plate, trying to sneak a glance at you as you concerned yourself with the view from his kitchen window.

You were even more stunning in the morning light, the sun outlining the soft curve of your chin as you smiled at the city's skyline.

He looked back down at his breakfast, not nearly as appetizing as the sight sitting across from him.

“Anyways,” you said, breaking the silence as you watched him near the end of his breakfast, clearing the plate of the last slice of toast. “I wanted to come by and apologize for how I acted yesterday, I was-”

Before you could even finish the apology, he held a hand up to stop you.

“Don’t even mention it, I was out of line.”

You frowned as he got up to put his plate in the sink behind him.

“Okay….” you said, unsure of how to approach the next topic, “well, I also wanted to talk to you about the wedding,”

As soon as the word ‘wedding’ came out of your mouth you saw his (very nicely built) back tense. So you rushed to finish the sentence as fast as you could to prevent him from completely shutting you out.

“But-more-importantly-I-wanted-to-apologize-for-what-your-brother-did-to-you…”

“What?”

You saw the tick in his jaw and the stern look on his face as he turned towards you. You couldn't help but shrink in on yourself a little, this was the first time you’d seen him as anything but aloof, and to say it was… intimidating… was an understatement.

Hot?.... Yes definitely… but also very intimidating.

“Why would you apologize for that?”

It was a fair question, especially considering that you were also starting to have the sneaking suspicion that you were a victim of infidelity as well. Just because you never caught it, doesn’t mean it never happened.

“I just-”

“-You know what,” he cut you off, holding a palm up to you, “why don’t you let me get cleaned up a little and then I can take you somewhere a little nicer to talk about this.”

Your eyes widened and you felt your face start to heat up at the idea of “going somewhere” to “talk” with this man.

You dreaded what he meant by ‘clean up’, the idea that he’d be showering with only a door or a room, at most, between you was making you ashamedly wet.

You could only pray that Issei didn’t notice the way you unconsciously squirmed in your seat.

And lucky for you, he didn’t. He was far too busy trying to figure out how to get himself to his bathroom without you noticing the sizable tent he could feel beginning to pitch. The only thing helping calm him down from being in the same room as you was the painful reminder that you were his brother’s fiance, along with the mention of what his brother had done to him 10 years ago.

“Okay. I’ll just wait here” you said, nodding as you focused your gaze on your lap, desperately trying to hide your look of embarrassment from Issei as he walked past you to his bedroom.

He closed the door with some kind of ‘make yourself at home’ comment, but once again, you were too preoccupied with your own arousal and ergo embarrassment to reply.

It was only when you’d calmed down a bit did you get up and explore the living room of his apartment. You were surprised to find it littered with not only human anatomy books and atlases (which was to be expected considering his career) but also with books filled with art, and even sketchbooks filled with what you assumed to be his own drawings.

In fact, now that you were looking closer, you could tell that Issei was something of an artist as well, the biggest hint being an easel and half-painted canvas in the corner of the room.

You couldn't help yourself, and went to inspect the work. When you got closer you could see the faint sketch lines on the canvas, and when you looked up from the painting to the window that it faced you saw the pieces of paper taped to the window, references for the painting.

You wanted to say that the painting of the woman was embarrassing. You wanted to say that the sketches of her nude body were scandalous, but you couldn't help but fixate on the beauty of Issei’s work.

The drawings made you feel warm inside, they made you feel seen.

If you squinted, the woman in the drawings almost looked like what you saw when you looked in the mirror. Of course you’d never seen anyone like yourself depicted in any art, so the feeling was definitely new but for some reason, you couldn't stop the warmth that started in your chest from traveling down to rest between your thighs.

And the more you looked at the drawings, the worse it got, as you noticed more sketches, some having the plus size woman drawn in different lewd poses, her curves almost highlighted due to the morning light coming through the paper.

You got so lost in the art that it almost felt like you were the woman in the drawings and that you could feel Issei watching you… memorizing your shape so that he could sketch you.

Your whole body was on fire as your fingers brushed against the papers on the window, tracing the figures outlines with one hand while gliding across your own outline with the other.

Normally you wouldn’t be caught dead acting like this, but it was like Issei’s work had you in a trance. The art mixed with the idea that there was a wet and very naked Issei less than 20 feet away from you had gone straight to your head, almost making you dizzy.

You didn’t know how long you’d been looking at the sketches, and you definitely hadn’t known that Issei had walked out of his bedroom to find you staring at his work a couple of minutes ago.

He knew that he should’ve at least tried to hide all of the shameless drawings of you, for god’s sake he’d only met you for 10 minutes yesterday. But you had haunted him, the only way he was able to sleep last night was after drawing you in all of the poses he longed to see you in.

So he stood silently in the doorway, watching as you traced his work, did you not realize it was you that he had drawn? Unless you were some sort of exhibitionist, you’d never be okay with some strange man you’d just met drawing you, much less drawing you as a nude model.

He let it go on for another minute or two, he wanted to let himself memorize your body again, he didn't know if he’d ever have another chance to see you and he’d be damned if he let his painting go unfinished. But even as he watched you, committing your shape to memory, he couldn’t help the nagging desire to touch you, he told himself that he wanted to feel you because it’d make his art better, he told himself there was no other motive.

He watched you finally move to the painting, watching you, he feared that if he let you continue you’d recognize yourself seeing as the painting held more color and detail.

“What do you think of it?” He asked, making you gasp as you jumped and whirled around to face him.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to snoop!” your eyes were wide and panicked, and yet he didn’t see any hint of recognition in them, hopefully meaning you still were unaware that you were the art’s model.

“Don’t apologize…. But please… I want to know what you think.”

You shyly turned back towards the canvas, not brave enough to compliment him to his face.

“It’s beautiful… you’re really good.” you breathed, the heat almost unbearable now that he was in the room.

“Only as good as my model.” he chuckled.

“Well she’s beautiful.” you complimented.

You were ashamed to admit the twinge of jealousy you felt towards the model. You had to remember that you were engaged…. Well at least for now….. in a week…. who knows?

“I think so too.” Issei mumbled from behind you, you could hear him moving but you still didn’t have the courage to turn back around.

You’d hoped that Issei couldn’t detect your arousal, but, of course, he could. What kind of artist would he be if he couldn’t observe? How else would he have looked at you close enough to paint you after just one meeting?

That said, Issei was more than pleased to know that you wanted him just as urgently as he needed you. He wondered if you’d lost sleep over it like him. Even at the risk of sounding naive or rash he wanted to ask you if you’d thought of him last night, as you walked home alone, as you slipped on your night clothes, as you drifted off to sleep.

He felt like a love-sick puppy, a feeling he hadn’t let himself feel ever since the love of his life walked out on him. Of course, with you standing in front of him who knows if she’s truly been his soulmate. If she had been his soulmate then why did you make him feel like this?

“Do you-” the words died on your tongue as you turned to find Issei directly behind you. The two of you were now close enough for him to see the way your breath caught in your chest.

You knew you should’ve stepped back, even risked knocking over the painting to get away, but it felt like your feet were superglued to the floor. You could hear Issei’s heart pounding in his chest as he looked down at you, staring into your eyes as you couldn’t help but stare back.

“Don’t you recognize her?” he whispered, his eyes darting down to your lips.

“I’m sorry?”

Your voice was barely audible, but at least it wasn’t shaking as Issei rested his hands on our shoulders and guided you to turn back towards the painting.

“Isn’t she familiar?”

His lips were right next to your right ear now, his breath warm as it tickled your jaw.

You stayed silent as you tried to focus on the artwork, somewhere deep inside, you knew exactly where this was going, but you had no power to stop it. You didn’t even think you wanted to.

“I don’t know” you mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut as you felt Issei’s palms travel down your sides to rest on your waist, his fingers digging into your skin ever so slightly.

“Look again.” he urged, placing his teeth over your pulse, scraping the skin as he started to massage your hips.

You forced your eyes open, your vision feeling unfocused as you tried to search for familiarity in the lines. It was only when Issei turned your body away from the painting, causing your eyes to drift to the full length mirror propped against a bookshelf, that you gasped in realization.

It was you.

And holy shit was that hot.

You felt Issei grin against your skin, that grin you’d seen him constantly sporting since he’d met you, and you couldn’t stop the quiet whine from leaving your chest.

You pressed yourself back into him, feeling him pressed against the curve of your ass, making him groan.

“Fuck…” he hissed, his hips jerked at the unexpected pressure, making you giggle in response.

He backed away from you, grinning to himself when you spun around, your lips downturned in disappointment.

“Come with me to bed.” He said, taking your hand in his.

You raised your eyebrow at him, a small smile coming over your face.

This morning was all the push you’d needed to break things off with his brother. You had definitely made up your mind to that. Plus…. even if Issei wasn’t looking for revenge against his brother… you were.

But still… that didn’t mean you didn’t want Issei to work for it.

“Hmm… why should I?” you teased, following his lead as he backed into his bedroom.

The grin never dropped from his face, if anything it got more confident. He knew he had you in the palm of your hand, but he also knew that you had him in the palm of yours.

“You really gonna make me beg for it sweetheart?” he asked, pulling you against him and switching your places. You bit your lip as you felt the bed pressing up against the backs of your legs.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down till his face was level with yours.

“You would look good on your knees.” you whispered, your lips brushing his.

You felt him twitch against your hip as he cursed under his breath, looking away from your eyes.

Issei knew he needed to pace himself, if you kept teasing him like that this would be over before it started and he definitely couldn’t have that happening.

“Wait, what’re you- hey!” you gasped as Issei pushed you back to where you were sitting on the edge of the bed. “What are you doing?” you asked as you cautiously watched him lower himself to his knees, his hands spreading your legs to let him kneel between your thighs.

“I thought you wanted me to beg…” he teased, laying his cheek against the inside of one of your spread thighs as he looked up at you.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. Your brain was short wiring at the sight of the dark haired man kneeling between your legs, his hands were so big, his fingers gripping your calves, coaxing you to spread your legs further for him.

You said nothing as you tangled your fingers through his hair, pulling softly to force his gaze up to yours.

His face was red and his pupils blown out, the sight was so erotic you thought you’d cum on the spot. You didn’t know anyone could ever find you this attractive, but as he let out a quiet whine, staring at you through half-lidded eyes, you realized a scary thought.

The thought that this man might want you even more than you wanted him.

“please…” he mumbled, pressing his head into your hand, willing you to guide him where he so desperately wanted to be. “...wanna taste you…”

You felt like you’d taken a nine-iron to the chest. But god did you feel powerful.

You tightened your grip on his hair, as you felt him work off your pants, pulling your soaked panties off with them, biting his lip at the feeling of the damp spot in the center of them.

“You’re so pretty….” you sighed, letting him go to rake your fingers over his scalp, “You wanna eat me out?”

He nodded, his tongue wetting his lips as he practically drooled over the sight of your bare cunt.

He wanted to paint you like this, spread out for him like a fucking masterpiece. But that would have to wait.

He could feel his head weeping against the front of his sweatpants, he’d (thankfully) gone commando in hopes of being where he was now, unfortunately that meant the feeling of the fleece lining was unbearable as he tried to ignore it, focusing on your pleasure first.

Without another word, you laced your fingers back through his hair and pushed his head down between your legs, gasping as you felt his lips quickly attach to your clit, wrapping around it and sucking, making your thighs snap shut around his head.

“fuck….” you gasped, obviously not expecting that overwhelming intensity right out of the gate.

Issei just moaned into you, bucking his hips at the feeling of your thighs pressed against his ears, he ran his hands up your legs to your stomach, guiding you to lay down on your back before hiking your knees over his shoulders.

And despite your position above him, you were completely powerless to his touch, leaning when he told you to, hesitantly opening your legs back up to allow him greater access.

When Issei felt your thighs loosen around his head he nearly cried, but he would have your legs wrapped around his head again, for now he needed to bring you to orgasm as fast as possible.

He pushed you further back onto the bed, helping you lay on your back as he repositioned himself between your legs, his hips pressing his hardened cock into the bedsheets.

His lips pressed to the insides of your thighs, sucking bruises into the skin as your fingers grasped at the sheets behind you.

“You’re so pretty” he muttered into your skin, looking up at you in awe as your chest heaved.

You doubt that you looked any kind of attractive right now, and yet Issei stared up at you like a sinner to a priestess.

“Please…” you gasped, your back arching away from the bed.

“Shhhh… I know…” he whispered, his mouth traveling back to your core, his tongue dipping between your folds, making you practically cry for more.

Issei’s brows were knit together, all of his being focused on not cumming in his pants from your taste. He wanted more…. he needed more.

“please…” he whimpered “...can I use my fingers?”

“N-mhm- yes..yes-please….” you gasped, crying out because as soon as you said it two of his fingers bullied their way into your pussy.

You cried from the burn of it, which melted into moans as his lips soothed your clit while his fingers curled inside of you.

It was gentle at first, he settled on warming you up to his fingers, gently pulling and pushing them in and out of you, kissing your clit with each plea or whine.

But as soon as he felt you relax, it started. He began with just sissoring his fingers inside of you, wanting to stretch you out for his cock before you came.

But as soon as you whimpered the words “..’m close Issei..” he abandoned all patience, pressing his fingers into your g-spot as he scraped his teeth against your clit, making you cry out.

You tried to close your legs around his head again, but he caught one of your thighs with his free hand and pressed it back down against the bed, forcing you to stay open for him.

You tossed your head against the sheets, whining how good it was as Issei buried his fingers into you again and again, pushing at your g-spot until you felt you high coming towards you like a freight train.

“Fuck…-gonna cum…Issei, ‘m gonna cum…”

“Shit..” Issei moaned against your clit, making you jerk against his face, your stomach clenching at the vibrations it sends through your body.

“come on, Sweetheart…. I want you to cum from my fingers…..please…”

Issei leaned back to watch your face as you came, feeling his cock twitch desperately in his pants at the sight of you gasping for air as your legs twitched beside his head.

You couldn’t form a single thought as you felt the wave of your orgasm wash over you, making your mind fuzzy as tears threatened to fall down your face.

Issei worked you through your orgasm, whispering praise against your thighs as he pressed his thumbs into your hips, massaging his fingers into the curve of your ass.

Eventually he worked his way back up your body until his chest covered yours and his hips ground against your thigh, reminding you that this was very much, not over.

Issei could look at you forever. If he thought you were beautiful before, you were absolutely breathtaking now, basking in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

God he needed you. He was convinced he’d need you for the rest of his life.

Still breathless from your high, you hooked a hand around the back of Issei’s neck and pulled him towards you, catching his lips in yours.

He moaned as your fingers pressed into his nape, encouraging him to deepen the kiss, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue. He could feel his brain getting fuzzier by the second, he wanted to cum.

bad.

And you could tell with the way he tried to angle his hips away from you, trying to create the least amount of friction against himself as possible.

It was almost cute in a way, it’d been a while since someone needed you this badly, like a hormonal teenager. The only reason it wasn’t cute was because you needed him just as badly. You were ready for him now, your core twitching at the thought of it.

Before Issei knew what had happened, you flipped the two of you around, pinning him to the mattress as your ass rested dangerously snug against his clothed cock.

“Wai-” he started but you cut him off, pressing one of your perfectly manicured nails to his lips.

“It's my turn to have fun.” you said, offering a playful wink before crawling back down the bed to come face to face with his erection.

You could tell that it was painful by now, the only thing preventing it from standing to its full potential was his sweatpants.

Issei thanked god they were black, he’d leaked so much pre by now it probably looked like he already lost it.

Not that you would’ve minded, in fact you were face to face with his tent wishing the pants were gray for that exact reason.

You decided not to be cruel and pulled his pants down, trying (and failing) to hide your surprise when he finally sprang free.

“Fuck…” Issei gasped above you, his fingers gripping his bedsheets, trying not to cum from the look in your eyes.

“You’re so pretty Issei…” you swooned, he winced as your fingers wrapped around him, making you giggle. “Such a pretty boy…” you gave an experimental tug, biting your lip when his hips jumped off of the bed and a whimper slipped out of him.

“Do you want me to help you feel good, pretty?”

Issei could feel his face burn in humiliation as he nodded feverishly, he couldn’t help it, he’d do whatever you told him to no matter how embarrassing, for you, he’d do it.

You moaned as you took him into your mouth, your hand using his precum to stroke what couldn’t fit.

“Fuck…” Issei whined, his hips twitching out of his control with the way you worked him.

He felt like he couldn't breathe, and you only made it worse as you came off of him, only to turn your focus downwards, wrapping your tongue around his balls, taking them into your mouth.

“Shit… wai-fuck…”

You went back to his head, swiping your tongue across the slit, flicking your wrist as you stroked him closer to his high. You knew that he was close by the way his knuckles were white, gripping the sheets as he gasped and panted above you, begging you to slow down.

He really did look so pretty like this, biting his bottom lip while he tried not to cum too soon. It suited him much better than that stupid fucking smirk he always had on.

“Come on Issei…” you coaxed, your hand quickening its pace as his breathing grew even more ragged, “show me how good you feel…”

Issei made the mistake of peering down at your face, you were staring at him through your lashes, biting your lip as you grinned. That’s what made him lose it, the sight of you making him grunt and shake as he released, whimpering as you made a show of catching it on your tongue.

“What a good boy…” you praised, licking up anything that managed to land on his pelvis, enjoying the feeling of his hips shaking beneath your taste buds.

“It’s too bad though…” you said, sticking your bottom lip out in a fake pout as you sat back on your knees watching as Issei’s head raised off the bed to look at you, “‘cause I’m not tired yet.”

You giggled as Issei’s head dropped back down with a groan, he obviously knew where this was going.

You crawled back over him, positioning your hips over his, stroking him, trying to get him hard again.

“Wait” he pleaded, 2 minutes, that’s all he needed and then he could do it again, he just needed two minutes.

You decided to be nice and settled on just grinding against him.

“you’re no fun.” you mumbled, leaning down to leave your own bite marks, something you didn’t doubt he’d done to you already.

You settled on his chest, admiring how soft his skin was, you bit into it, surprised at how hard the muscle was below.

Yes, you knew that he was really fucking built when you saw him in just his sweatpants, you even knew he was built when you saw just how broad his shoulders looked in his nicely tailored work suit, but you were surprised just how strong he felt under your fingertips.

Maybe it was the fact he’d let you take control this whole time that made you for some reason think that he couldn't pin you down if he wanted to, but now you knew, he definitely could.

And god was that a tempting image.

Knowing that he could easily overpower you, could easily force your face into the mattress as he fucked you, but chose to listen to you so nicely was so fucking attractive.

You felt yourself tighten around nothing, keening as your clit caught against the head of his cock when you rubbed yourself against him.

“So good…” you moaned, resting your forehead against his chest, grinding down on his cock.

Issei decided he’d had enough, he was ready whether his dick was hard again or not. Which it was. How could it not be with you on top of him? He could feel your arousal, it made it almost impossible not to just slip his cock into you.

“Please….” he breathed, “...fuck please….”

You giggled from your place above him, leaning back to where you sat against his hips, comfortably sat with him wedged between your thighs.

“Come on Issei….how should I know what you want me to do?….”

Issei just whined beneath you, his body practically shaking under your touch. You brought your hands up to rest on his chest rather than the sheets on either side of his head.

“Please…..” he gasped again, his toes curling into the sheets when your prettily manicured nails circled his nipples.

You just grinned, dragging your hands up his neck, circling to his nape to hold his head, forcing him to look into your half-lidded eyes.

You leaned down towards him, grinding down onto him as you placed pecks on his face, starting from the edge of his lips… then to the arch of his nose… and finally up across his jaw, landing next to his left ear.

“What honey….” you cooed, loving the way you could feel his chest heaving beneath yours as you pressed your tits to him, as if his brain had melted already.

Issei whined, pressing his eyes closed, trying not to cum like a fucking loser before he even had the chance to be inside of you.

“.... you want some pussy, Baby?...”

“Oh fuck…. Please-please-please…. want it so bad…” Issei whimpered, his fingers leaving the sheets to grip the fat of your hips, undoubtedly hard enough to bruise.

You would’ve laughed if it wasn’t so pathetic.

Without another word, you reached under you, and all in one go grabbed his cock and slid onto it, gasping as you took it to the hilt on the first try.

Issei’s vision went white as he felt you press yourself down onto him, the pulse of your cunt around him making him dizzy, making him whip his head away, trying to hide from you as he let out a choked sob, along with stuttered, breathy ‘thank you’s.

“Fuck baby…” you groaned, reaching back up to cradle issei’s face with your hands, “.....feel you in my fucking throat….”

“..yeah?..... can I move…fuck-please…” Issei pleaded, making you wince with the force that his nails were digging into your hips.

“Fuck…” you dropped your head down, pressing your face into the nook of his neck, trying to stay strong, trying to stay in control as you felt your brain going fuzzy and your tummy turn to jelly. “...yes… please fuck me-ahh-”

You weren’t even able to finish the sentence before Issei’s hips started snapping into you from underneath, the force of his thrusts bouncing you against his chest. You moaned, feeling the air getting repeatedly knocked out of your lungs.

“Shit- slow-slow down Issei…” you winced out, the feeling of him slamming into you so fast was too much too early. If he kept going like this you’d both be done in no time.

“not so much baby…” you said again, trying to catch Issei’s attention after failing the first time, but unfortunately for you he was long gone, the only thing on his mind was pounding into you until you came all over his cock.

Issei couldn’t even hear you as you begged once more for him to slow down, he coudln’t hear anything over the sounds of his own moans and grunts paired with his hard breaths and of course the wet sounds of your cunt as he fucked into you like a fucking rabbit in rut.

He swore to god that there was nothing better than this, than the sound of you moaning above him as he drilled into you, his hands gripping the swell of your ass as you bounced on his cock.

It wasn’t long before you gave up on trying to take it slow, releasing yourself to the pleasure of Issei’s cock pushing at your walls while you cried into his neck, whimpering encouragement into his skin, trying your best to meet his thrusts.

“Oh my goddd….” you gasped after a particularly hard thrust, feeling his tip ram against your cervix when he adjusted you on top of him, bringing his heels up to dig into the mattress to allow him to fuck you even harder.

Your chest was no longer resting against his as the new angle forced you to lean back, barely giving you time to bring your arms behind you to support yourself as he used you.

Issei almost cried at the new position, not only because now he could push into you faster and harder, but because now with every thrust he could watch the way your tits bounced and your eyes rolled back into your head.

He could feel the itch of his orgasm starting in his gut, making him panic at the thought of this ending, at the thought of you getting up and walking out of his life after he scares you away with his intensity. Incidentally, the panic is also what allowed him to finally tune back into his surroundings, tune back into anything other than the feeling of your cunt squeezing him.

“Isseiiiii…” he heard you beg, your voice further ripping him out of his trance, he stilled inside of you, despite every fiber of his being saying not to.

It was only when he stopped that he noticed the way your arms were shaking under you, threatening to give out.

“Fuck…” he said, scrambing to sit up further on the bed, wrapping his arms around your torso to pull you into him, allowing your arms to take a much needed break as he pulled your weight properly into his lap. “I’m sorry…” he whispered against your shoulder, “fuck ‘m sorry…. you just feel so good…”

He let you catch your breath, whispering apologies as he sucked more marks into your skin, his hips grinding his pelvis against your clit, making you gasp and keen as his tip rubbed against your g-spot inside of you.

This was almost worse than when he was moving, yeah it felt good, fuck it felt so good that you could barely remember your name, much less the reason you’d wanted him to slow down, but if he continued like this you knew you’d finish for a second time, and while you really wanted to finish, you wanted him to finish inside of you first.

“Issei…” you moaned, leaning away from him to look into his eyes, your cunt tightening around him at the sight of his blown out pupils and red cheeks, making him whine. “Issei let me lay down Baby…”

He nodded aimlessly, his eyes focused only on your tits as you slid off of him, laying down beside him, hoping he’d take the hint to climb over you and continue.

Thankfully he did, or at least got half of the hint. He climbed over you, his forearms framing your face as he resumed grinding himself against you, his cock slick with your arousal as it continued gliding between the folds of your pussy, the tip catching your clit with every stroke, making you both shake against each other.

“...ngh- please baby….” Issei whined against your neck, “...please lemme fuck….”

Your head was thrown back against the sheets, as you moaned out for him, wrapping your arms down and around him, raking your nails against his lower back, making him shiver and whine against you.

“Go ahead baby…” you urged, spreading your legs further for him, “...make me cum”

That was all Issei needed to resume the godless pace he’d set earlier, lining himself up with your hole before hammering you further into the mattress.

You gasped below him, once again feeling him deep enough to wonder if he’d somehow broken your cervix with the power behind his thrusts.

He was drunk on you, whining a repetitive ‘yes, yes, yes’ into your skin before you decidedly to shut him up, gripping his hair and guiding his mouth to one of your nipples.

You both moaned as he latched on, sucking hard enough to make your walls squeeze, practically choking his dick as he continued humping into you like a love-sick puppy. You could feel him twitching inside of you, telling you that he was also close.

“Fuck issei…” you begged, pressing his face closer to your chest, smothering him with your tits as he moaned and jerked into you.

At this point your couldn’t tell who was fucking who, with the way your hips were arching off of the mattress to meet his thrusts, making you both cry as his cock dragged against your insides perfectly.

“Fuck Issei, ‘m close…” you breathed, intentionally squeezing his cock, trying to get him to cum before you fell off that cliff.

He pulled himself off of your chest just long enough to whimper “fuck-me too baby…” before sending whiny vibrations back through your body as he licked and bit at your tits.

“Yeah?” you asked, “you gonna ask me if you can cum inside?”

You felt him jerk inside of you at the thought.

“D’ you wanna cum inside Issei?” you whispered into his ear, biting your lip as he nodded against you, his mouth never leaving your nipple but a pathetic whine coming out of the back of his throat as his thrusts started getting messy and out of sync.

You could both tell that the other was close, and while Issei desperately wanted to make you cum first, you both knew that he wasn’t the one in charge right now.

Issei fucked into you with a continuous stream of ‘please’ coming from his lips between each pant, his thrusts were getting sharper and off beat as he felt his balls starting to pull up, getting ready to shoot his load into you. But he was determined, he wanted to feel you creaming around his cock before he finally filled you.

But of course, you had other plans, your fingers reaching down to dig your nails into his ass cheeks, helping him keep the tempo of his hips slamming into you steady. Your cunt felt so fucking good for him, warm and tight and twitching as your release threatened to rear its head.

It was a silent battle of who’d break first, until you took his earlobe between your teeth and whispered into his ear.

“come on issei, give me your cum…. Please…”

That finally pushed him over the edge, making him cry against your chest as he tried to pull himself out of you to finish, thinking that you were just saying to finish inside to make him cum.

But as soon as you felt him try to pull out, you dug your nails deeper into the skin of his ass, pressing his body flush to yours as you felt the ropes of his cum start filling you up.

“Fuck… oh my god….” Issei gasped against you, his legs jerking and abs flexing against you as he felt you milking him dry.

The feeling of his cum pushed you into your release as well, making you throw your head back, mouth open as a silent moan ripped through you, your back arching as you felt yourself gushing, your mixed release dripping down your ass and Issei’s balls, no doubt soaking into Issei’s sheets.

Even if Issei said something to you right then, you didn’t hear it, it was like you lost all ability to do anything other than stare at the ceiling, feeling the waves of your orgasm rocking through your body.

And Issei honestly wasn’t much better, laying against your chest as his hips twitched in the aftermath, making you whine below him as his softening tip rubbed his cum into your raw walls.

Eventually though, Issei came back to, pushing himself back up onto his forearms to make sure you were ok. He just found you staring at his ceiling, your mind still blank and fucked out.

He brought a hand up, brushing your hair out of your face, kissing from your lips to your forehead, whispering ‘thank you’s’ and ‘you did so good for me’s’ as he gently pulled out and left to get a cloth to clean you up.

Somewhere along the process of Issei dragging the warm cloth across your skin, you remembered to feel self conscious due to the light streaming in through the bedroom window’s blinds.

Issei just tsked at your attempts to cover yourself with your hands, did you miss the last hour? He was fucking obsessed with you. You were fucking perfect to him. Fuck, not just to him, you were just perfect.

“Stop.” he grumbled, pulling your hand away from your stomach and replacing it with his own, gripping the plush of it between his fingers, groaning when you whined and jerked against him.

You just rolled your eyes, obviously it was pointless to argue with the man who’d just sucked your tits and gave you probably the strongest orgasm of your life.

“Whatever” you groaned, trying to push him away from you so you could at least retreat to the bathroom. Another plan, which he gladly spoiled as he latched onto you even tighter, abandoning the washcloth and opting to kiss across your neck, trying to distract you from the thought of leaving.

“Come on….” he whispered into your neck, pulling your body against him, groaning at the softness of it, “come take a shower with me… and then….” he reached down to your tits, tracing their outline again with his fingers.

“And then let me draw you again…”

“What am I gonna tell your brother?” you asked, hoping to kill the mood to at least be able to slip from Issei’s grasp, enough to let you leave both of the brothers’ lives without doing more damage.

But Issei just laughed, still tightening his hold on you, forcing you to stay with him in bed.

“Just tell him the truth”

“Oh yeah, and what’s that?” you said, side-eyeing Issei, watching him grin down at you with that familiar grin.

“That you’re gonna marry the better brother.”

-------------------------

*blows dust off of microphone*

hope you liked it bestie!!!!! tell me whatcha thought <3 <3<3<3

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x chubby reader #haikyuuxreader #haikyuu 18+#haikyuu x plus size reader #chubby reader #plus size reader #issei matsukawa x reader #issei smut #haikyuu!! smut #haikyu x reader #matsukawa smut

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begko · 6 months

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keep quiet. -seijoh 4

warnings: 18+ MDNI, poly, implied masturbation, implied sex(? I think), idk how to tag so lmk if there's anything else

contains: fem reader, seijoh 4 x reader (but mostly Matsukawa x reader and Hanamaki x reader)

wc: 1.2 k

a/n: I feel like there's not enough seijoh 4 fics out there so I decided to write one myself lol. This is my first fic so if anyone likes this I'll finish this and try to post more. Just ask and I'll lyk if I can do it!

Living in an apartment with four other boys never left your days feeling dull. Although you were all in your 20’s and supposedly more mature than your younger selves, they were still boys.

They would each find ways to somehow piss you off, whether consciously or not. Dirty laundry in the living room, a bag of chips left open on the counter, or the loud moans of a random girl spilling through the crack in their bedroom door. These things wouldn’t typically leave you feeling so annoyed, but hearing a repeating “Yes Oikawa!” at 3 AM– the night before your abnormal psychology midterm may I add– was seriously starting to test your patience.

Before you knew it, you found your feet gliding stomping down the hallway towards the brunette’s room, unknowingly drawing the other three to peek out from their own doors.

“I SWEAR TO GOD TOORU. IF SHE DOESN’T SHUT UP YOU WILL NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY AGAIN.” You emphasized your threat by loudly pounding your fist on his door, then swiftly retreating back to your room, slamming your door for good measure. You put your earbuds back in and tried to focus on the music that filled your ears.

Thankfully, you eventually drifted to sleep, but the groggy feeling you had the next morning did not dissipate, even with the large coffee you had made. After fumbling with your keys for what seemed like forever, you were met with the faces of your roommates, all waiting to greet you. They each gave you a warm smile, which normally would brighten your mood a bit, but the sight of Tooru’s face made a frown appear on your face. Without a word, you disappeared into your room and threw yourself onto the bed, hoping to catch up on some sleep.

“What did I do?” Hajime immediately slapped the back of Tooru’s head in response. “You idiot! She had an exam today and you haven’t even apologized for keeping her up!” Hajime clicked his tongue in annoyance at his best friend. Tooru rubbed the back of his head to soothe the pain. “Well how do I make her forgive me? I didn’t know she had an exam!”

Hajime merely shook his head, “Figure it out.” he said before going to check on you. As he opened your door, he found you– jeans and all – laying face-down on your bed. A groan of acknowledgement came from your figure, causing Hajime to let out a breathy laugh. “You okay?”

“Headache.” Was all you managed to say before beckoning him to lay with you. He obliged, letting you roll over before laying on top of your half-made bed with you. He adjusted you both so your head would be comfortably caged in his arms, while you curled into his warmth.

“It’s alright, just get some sleep. I’ll stay with you, baby.” There it was. That nickname he gave you. It always put a smile on your face, this time no different, as you drifted off with your lips sleepily curled up at the corners.

While, yes, they were annoying at times, one could argue that they had a soft spot for you. They would often lay with you if they knew you wanted the company, just as Hajime was doing. When a boy would break your heart, you would find one of them waiting outside of your lecture hall with a bouquet of daffodils, ready to take you out to eat or to a club. With them, you never needed to watch cringey rom-coms while incessantly crying. They distracted you from the heartache, until it eventually melted away. And those nicknames, god, those nicknames. You were sure that they meant nothing, but the way that they locked eyes with you as they uttered ‘Princess’ or ‘Darling’ made your heart stop in ways that felt more than platonic. Sometimes, when you touched yourself in the dead of the night, you found yourself imagining them saying it, driving you to your climax. But you would never admit that to any of them. Just as they wouldn’t admit that you would sometimes let your moans get loud enough for them to hear, driving them to let their hands wander down beyond the waistbands of their boxers. They quickly chased their high, knowing that without the sweet noises of your pleasure seeping through the thin walls, they would be left unsatiated.

You awoke to the delicious smell of food wafting in from the kitchen. After stretching a bit, you opened your eyes to find Hajime no longer next to you. You followed the smell into the main area of your apartment, finding the boys sitting at the kitchen counter chatting while Tooru stood with a pink apron on.

Your small laugh caused them all to turn their heads to wear you stood, a smile appearing on each of their faces. You walked up to them and put your hands on the counter, surveying the mess left on top of it.

“I made you your favorite! And before you say anything, I was just about to clean up.” That drew another giggle to fall from your lips. You mumbled out a ‘You better.” as Tooru wrapped his arms around your form. “I’m sorry for keeping you up last night, please forgive me?”

“ Fine, just buy a gag for the next time you wanna bring one of them home.” The four laughed while you began to set the table.

After dinner, Tooru told you to put on a movie while the rest of them did the dishes and grabbed something sweet to snack on. You opted to take a quick shower before doing so and changed into a comfortable tank top and shorts. As you plopped down on the couch and simply chose to re-watch The Hunger Games, Hiro and Issei sat down on either side of you. Issei guided you between his legs, allowing your head to lay on his chest, as Hiro moved your legs into his lap. Hiro draped a blanket over your form, as you gave him a small smile of thankfulness. Soon after, Hajime and Tooru sat in the smaller armchairs and started the movie.

You’ve seen this movie a million times, after all it was your favorite. But as you watched Katniss tie herself to a tree in an attempt to get some sleep, you began to grow bored. You shifted from your position, fidgeting in hopes of becoming comfortable again. “Sit still, pretty girl. I wanna know what happens next.” You heard Issei whisper into your ear. You freeze. For some reason, the mixture of the hot breath that you felt on your neck and the raspiness of his voice made your stomach form a knot. But it wasn’t until you felt Hiro’s hand start to slowly travel up the length of your leg that you finally realized what you were feeling. You felt hot, making you squirm even more. Issei’s arm snaked around your middle, holding you in place. “I said sit still. We’ll give you a reward if you’re good.” Suddenly it felt like your senses were heightened. The feeling of Issei’s arm and Hiro’s wandering hands made your breathing come to a halt. Is this a dream?

“Do you trust us, pretty girl?”

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renalord · 11 months

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༅ pairing: (seperately) suna, matsukawa, bokuto, iwaizumi, atsumu, tanaka, kiyoko, saeko, yachi x fem term!reader

༅ synopsis: they react to your ig post for the first time.

༅ warnings: fem terms used (as stated in pairings), cursing, mention of a gun, mention of death, spit in atsumu's, they love you.

༅ authors note: this was inspired by the lovely @/fuckytown! their work is great, go check them out! inspired by their "first impressions" post. also im back from my indefinitely long hiatus and this was my first post.. i cringed so hard.

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etherrreal · 1 year

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“spare me the details”

Pairing: matsukawa x fem!reader Genre: angst with a happy ending (i promise lmao), friends to lovers Summary: matsukawa is a good friend, which is why when you ask for his help figuring out what to wear for your date, he agrees without thinking much of it. but the longer he spends watching you get ready, the more he realizes how much he doesn’t want you to go. WC: 10,446 Warnings: brief mentions of alcohol, lots of suggestive lines, and on top of it all they were roommates (oh my god they were roommates) A/N: this fic happened because i wanted to write literally one scene of mattsun zipping up reader’s dress and now, 10k+ words later, we’re here :) also shoutout to luna for coming up with the fic title! <3 -Dawn

When you text Matsukawa right after his shift with a series of panicked voice notes and a string of siren emojis to match, he expects nothing short of a bug armageddon. He comes home fully prepared to find you standing on the kitchen counter, broom in hand as you frantically shout for him to get rid of whatever creepy crawling thing has invaded your home, the way he has on three separate occasions since the two of you moved in together.

Instead, when he arrives at your shared apartment, he finds you standing in the middle of your bedroom, heaps of fabric scattered across your mattress and pouring out from your closet. Thankfully, there’s no bug in sight, but you still look far from pleased, scowling at the floral-printed dress you’re holding as if it’s personally offended you.

You perk up when you spot him standing in your doorway, sleeves rolled up around his elbows and tie still half-hanging off his neck. You greet him with a welcome smile and a relieved “oh thank god” before letting go of the dress you’re holding, latching your hand around his wrist and tugging him inside.

That’s about all the warning he gets before he finds himself shoved into the comfort of your desk chair, watching as you turn this way and that in front of your mirror, trying on dress after dress in preparation for your date tonight. Apparently, the cute IT guy you met at your job’s last happy hour asked you out, and you need Mattsun’s help deciding what to wear.

Normally, this is your friend Aina’s job. It used to be Mattsun’s too, once upon a time, but that was before everything that happened your senior year of college, before things changed between you in a way that, for a while, neither of you were sure you’d be able to come back from.

Thankfully, the two of you managed to fix things in the end, but that particular part of your friendship, the part that made you comfortable enough to talk freely about things like romance and dating, was never quite the same. It still isn’t, if he’s being honest, despite the fact that the two of you live together now, despite the fact that it’s been a year since everything happened.

It’s why he never lets his hookups stay the night, why you never say anything about the extra pair of heels you see on the shoe rack that are always gone by morning. It’s why you only ever mention your dates in passing, why he never asks for details.

He’s honestly shocked you’ve asked for his help at all, but with Aina busy visiting her family in Tokyo, Makki off with his new girlfriend, and the rest of your friends stuck at work, he figures he’s all you have left. And because he’s a good roommate and an even better friend, he agrees to help, even though the idea of you going on a date with someone else –cute IT background or not– kind of makes him want to throw up, for reasons he’s not quite ready to explore just yet.

So instead of lingering on the thought, Mattsun decides to focus on something a little easier for him to admit to himself, like the fact that you look really good tonight. Then again, you always look good to him, which he supposes is another problem entirely. He likes to think he’s gotten better at ignoring it over the years, only allowing his gaze to linger when he’s sure your attention is occupied elsewhere, but the way you look tonight has him wondering how much longer he’ll be able to keep it up.

Most of your hair has been pinned up and away from your face –he figures you’re waiting to let it down until right before you leave– and there’s something gold and shimmery on your eyelids and cheekbones that catches the light whenever you move, highlighting your features. Your lashes are long and dark, a deep shade of red staining your lips that the more indecent part of him is tempted to smudge.

And if all of that isn’t already bad enough, you’ve also spent the past ten minutes strutting back and forth in every pretty dress you own. You turn back to him after slipping into each one to ask which looks best, hair all mussed up and fabric clinging to your hips, and all he can think about is how much more useful he’d be in helping you out of them.

But the two of you are best friends, have been since you met during your first year of university, when you ended up sitting next to each other at a bonfire neither of you really wanted to attend and bonded over smores and cheap beer. And last time he checked, you aren’t supposed to have these kinds of thoughts about your best friend, no matter how pretty their eyes are or how tempting they look in a little satin dress. Which is why, for the sake of your friendship –and, he thinks, for the sake of his own sanity– he keeps them to himself.

He likes to think he’s doing a pretty good job of it, too, allowing himself only a quick once-over whenever you step out in a new dress before averting his gaze and giving his opinion, determined not to appear too interested or eager. It helps that he has his phone to distract him, along with a bag of pretzels you left open on your desk that he keeps stealing from every now and then.

It works for the first few minutes, at least, until you’re walking out of your closet wearing what feels like your twentieth option of the night, and all he has to say, after barely sparing a glance at you, is that he likes the color. Never one to be ignored for long, you snatch up the closest projectile –in this case, your stuffed koala– and launch it straight at him, determined to get his attention by any means necessary.

Unsurprisingly, the plushie hits him square in the chest –he and Makki always like to joke you’d make a terrifying wing spiker– and he looks up to find you standing in front of him again, pretty red lips pulled into a frustrated frown.

“Ouch,” he says, feigning hurt as he picks the stuffed koala up and sets it back on your desk, though you both know he hardly felt it. Years of athleticism and routine gym workouts have left him with an impressive wall of muscle, if the appreciative glances you send him whenever he leaves the shower shirtless are any indication. “What was that for?”

“You know exactly what that was for.” You shoot him a flat look, hands resting on either side of your hips. The dress you’re wearing now is made of a red velvety material, with long sleeves and a sloping neckline revealing a generous amount of cleavage that has him nearly choking on his pretzels. “You’re supposed to be helping me through a crisis here, not eating all my food.”

“Hey, you’re the one who decided to have a fashion emergency during my dinner time. Excuse me for not wanting to starve.” He scoops up another handful of pretzels as if to prove his point, tossing them into his mouth while you roll your eyes. “And besides, I have been helping you. Didn’t I tell you the green one you tried on was cute?”

“I’m a grown ass woman. I don’t have time for cute.” You give a little huff of indignation when you say it, which, in retrospect, just makes you look cuter, though Mattsun is wise enough not to bring that up now. “I have time for beautiful, maybe even time for pretty, but definitely not for cute, which means I need you to stop being charming and start project makeover-ing my ass.”

“Ah, so you think I’m charming?”

“I’m walking away now.”

“I’m kidding! Hey, come on, I was just messing with you. I’ll help now, for real.” He’s still grinning when he says it, but he locks his phone to show you that he’s serious, putting it down on your desk and wiping his hands free of any crumbs. “I promise.”

And for what it’s worth, he means it. He knows it’ll be quite the slippery slope, giving his honest opinion about how you look without also giving away the attraction he’s usually a lot better at pretending he doesn’t feel for you, all in the service of helping you get ready for the date he’s still kind of bummed you’re going on. But you’re his best friend, and you asked for his help. And while the thought of you and your IT guy still makes him queasy, he wants to help you, and that’s precisely what he resolves to do.

You’re wearing a different dress now, something soft and smooth made of purple satin that cinches at the waist and clings to your curves in a way that has his mouth feeling dry and his face feeling a little warmer than usual. He watches you fiddle with the straps, snapping them into place against your shoulders.

He imagines his hands replacing yours, fingertips grazing the slope of your collarbone and brushing over your shoulders, sliding down to your sides. He wonders what the satin would feel like against his palms, how the fabric would give beneath his fingertips, shifting as he pushes it up and over your hips–

“Well?” The sound of your voice snaps him out of his thoughts, and immediately he tears his gaze away from where it’s drifted rather unhelpfully down to your ass. He does it just in time, too, because all of the sudden you’re turning around to face him, an eyebrow raised expectantly. “What do you think of this one?”

“...I like it,” Mattsun says evenly, after taking a moment to compose himself, though the sudden dryness in his mouth makes the words come out a little strained. He only hopes you don’t notice it, hopes his voice sounds steadier than the rest of him feels. “It looks nice on you.”

Any other time, you might’ve smiled at the compliment, maybe even poked fun at him for going soft on you, but now you just groan in annoyance, planting your hands on your hips and fixing him with an unimpressed stare. “You’ve said that about the last three dresses, Issei.”

“I meant it,” he tells you, because he did. “You look really nice in all of them.”

“But I don’t want to look just nice.” You’re pouting now, brows furrowing as you smooth your hands over the skirt of your dress. “I want to look hot. Like having him drooling as soon as he sees me kind of hot.”

“Drooling, huh? That’s a pretty tall order.” He raises an eyebrow at you, ignoring the way his stomach starts to twist at the reminder of your impending date in favor of flashing you a teasing smirk. “You sure your IT nerd’s gonna be able to handle that?”

You start to smile, but it only lasts for a few moments before you’re remembering your current predicament and letting out a tired, frustrated sigh.

“I’m being serious, Issei. This is really important to me. It’s my first date in a while, and I want to make a good impression.” You tug at the straps of your dress and tilt your head at him, eyes soft and pleading. “Please help me?”

And though Matsukawa is still far from being a fan of you going off with someone else looking as lovely as you do –though he’s just starting to realize how much he wants to be the one you dress up for instead– in all the time he’s known you, he’s never really been able to deny you of anything, and he’s certainly not going to start now.

It doesn’t take him long to come up with his suggestion. He shifts in his seat, lifting a hand to rub at the back of his neck. “What about the one you wore for New Year’s?”

“The black one?” you ask, perking up with interest.

When he nods, you turn to the mountain of clothes on your bed and begin rummaging through the pounds of fabric, pulling out the exact dress he was thinking of with surprising ease. He tries not to look too eager as you do, even though the memory of you in it is a sight permanently seared into his brain.

“Here it is. I almost forgot I had this one.” You hold the dress up to your body and tilt your head, questioning gaze searching for his. “You don’t think it’s too boring?”

“Not even close,” Mattsun replies, completely sure of it. You looked absolutely stunning that night, all bright smiles and silver-framed eyes, and he was far from the only one who noticed it. Looking back, it was probably the closest he’s ever come to telling you the truth about how he feels.

“Don’t you remember on New Year’s, when you walked over to us and Iwaizumi got all flustered and started choking on his champagne, but wouldn’t tell you why?” It takes a moment for you to recall the memory, but when he sees you nod, he continues, “it was because he saw you in that dress.”

You’re quick to wave it off, laughing like you don’t really believe him. “Yeah, right.”

“It’s true,” he insists. “It might not be as intense as full-on drooling, but I’d say it’s pretty close, all things considered.”

“You know what? I’ll take it.” You drape the dress over one of your arms and turn towards your closet, though not before pausing to send him a grateful smile. “Thanks, Issei. I’m gonna go try it on!”

With that, you’re off, disappearing back into your closet to change. It isn’t long after you’ve left that he hears your voice again, the sounds of your frustrated swearing only partially muffled by the door.

He calls out to you, asking if everything is all right, and that’s when the door creaks back open, your head poking out into view. Some of your hair has fallen down and over your shoulders, and you’re using both hands to keep the front of the dress pressed firmly against your body, pretty lips pulled into a frown.

“The stupid zipper is stuck,” you grumble, features scrunched up in annoyance, and somehow it’s both the best and the worst thing you could’ve told him at the same time. “I can’t reach it. Can you help zip me up?”

It takes him a moment to respond, his brain all but short-circuiting at the thought of having you so close to him, at the idea of his skin brushing yours, but eventually he manages a nod, muttering out a “sure” that sounds a bit too strained for his liking and wiping his palms against his pants as he stands to join you.

You step out and walk until you’re facing the floor-length mirror, and he follows until he’s standing right behind you, just a few short inches of space between you that suddenly feel a lot smaller now that he’s caught your gaze in the glass.

He knows the smart thing –the right thing, for both of you and for the sake of your friendship– would be to look away. To pretend it means nothing, even as he feels his pulse pick up beneath his skin, even as his entire body warms at the proximity, but he doesn’t. He can’t, not when you’re finally here in front of him, all bright-eyed and gorgeous, and certainly not when he’s this close to you in the way he’s tired of pretending he doesn’t want to be.

And maybe he’s just imagining it, but right now you’re looking at him like you’re thinking the same thing, like you’re just waiting to see what he’ll do next.

He watches the way you watch him as he gathers and moves the parts of your hair that have come loose, sweeping them away to the front of your shoulder and ignoring the feel of them as they brush against his fingers. He looks away only to locate the zipper of your dress and immediately regrets it, the smooth skin of your back and shoulders on full display making the dryness in his throat from before return with a vengeance.

He takes his time, savoring the moment despite knowing how selfish it is of him, as he begins to zip the dress the rest of the way shut. It catches again somewhere in the middle, his knuckles grazing your skin as a result. You let out a little gasp when it happens, a tiny, breathless sound that makes his skin feel like it’s on fire, one he would’ve missed if he wasn’t standing as close to you as he is now.

Immediately, his gaze snaps up to meet yours in the mirror. You look as surprised as he feels, eyes wide and mouth slightly open, like you can’t believe the sound came from you. The moment is ephemeral, your gaze darting away from his after only a few seconds, but it feels like a lifetime. He knows it’s all he’ll be able to think about for days to come, long after you’ve left for the date he really wishes you weren’t going on anymore.

He zips the rest of the dress up without any further incident, though the tension between you is still there, despite both of your valiant attempts to ignore it. He knows the smart thing –the right thing– to do right now would be to move his hands, to let you go and step away so that you can finish getting ready. He has to, because the two of you are just friends, and he has no right to feel the way he does about any of this, especially after everything that’s happened between you.

But Matsukawa’s always been a little bit selfish when it comes to you, and tonight is no different, especially when he remembers that little gasp you gave earlier, the heated look in your eyes as your gaze met his. So instead of moving away, he lets his knuckles graze your skin again, lets his fingertips trace down the outline of the zipper until his hands are resting on your waist.

And instead of stopping him, instead of pushing him away, you sink into his touch, allowing yourself to lean back just enough that your back can rest against his front. You settle against him like you belong there, so close that he catches the scent of your perfume, the same heat he feels spreading across his skin burning into yours.

It’s easy to forgive himself after that, to bring his mouth to your ear as his eyes meet yours in the mirror.

“There.” He’s so close to you now that his lips graze your ear as he speaks. It makes you shiver, just noticeably enough that he considers forgetting all about preserving your friendship and kissing you senseless right then and there. Against all odds, he manages to resist the urge, settling for giving your hips a light squeeze instead. “All done.”

“...Thanks,” you murmur, sounding as dazed as he feels. “What…what do you think?”

He moves his gaze away from yours long enough to take in the sight of you all dressed up, unsurprised to discover you look just as, if not even more so, beautiful as you did on New Year’s. The black dress is long and form-fitting, with a square neckline and ruched fabric that cinches at your waist and eases over your hips nicely. There’s a slit on the left of it that exposes a bit of your thigh, two thin straps against your shoulders holding it all up. And with your hair swept over your shoulder and that bold look in your gold-framed eyes, you are both breathtaking and completely devastating, the longer he stares at you knowing he can’t have you.

I think you’re the most stunning thing I’ve ever seen, is what he wants to tell you. I think I want you to stay home because I hate the idea of you going out with anyone else who isn’t me. But mostly I think I’m a coward and an idiot for having you right here in front of me all this time and not doing anything about it.

But he can’t say any of that now, because it’s late and selfish and not at all what you deserve, so he doesn’t.

“You look amazing,” is what he says instead, and as he meets your gaze again in the mirror, he can only hope you see how much he means it. “Your IT nerd won’t be able to keep his eyes off you.”

And he knows he should just leave it at that, knows it isn’t fair to take it any further, but still he tells you anyway, consequences be damned, “...I know I wouldn’t.”

Another murmur of thanks leaves your lips, an uncharacteristic shakiness lingering in your voice that he wonders might mean something more.

You still haven’t looked away. He knows now he doesn’t want you to. And he wonders, not for the first time, if maybe the risk to your friendship is worth it, if he should stop all this waiting and longing and just do something about it–

The blaring of an alarm cuts him off before he can get any further, one he’s sure the more practical part of you set on your phone well in advance to ensure you wouldn’t be late for your date. It shatters the moment almost instantly, leaving you wide-eyed as you finally seem to notice how close the two of you are, how long you’ve been staring at each other.

You swear and move away from him, slipping out of his grasp as you scramble across the room in search of your phone. You find it resting face-down on your desk and silence it with a swipe of your thumb.

You don’t turn back to look at him right away, almost like you’re taking the extra time to steady yourself before you face him again. He’s tempted to laugh, mainly because he’s pretty much doing the exact same thing right now.

When you do finally turn back to him, you find him standing with his hands shoved into his pockets, an attempt at appearing casual, despite the sinking feeling in his chest.

“Guess you should probably finish getting ready, huh?” Mattsun’s chest tightens as the words leave his mouth, lips curving into a smile he can only hope reaches his eyes. “Wouldn’t want to keep your IT nerd waiting.”

“Yeah.” It takes you a moment, but soon you return the gesture with a hesitant smile of your own. “Thanks again for all your help, Issei. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

He manages to choke out a strained “anytime” that he’s sure sounds unfairly bitter. Thankfully, you don’t seem to notice it, excusing yourself to touch up your makeup before you go, and because he’s a masochist, Mattsun follows, hovering just outside of the doorway to keep you company.

And as he watches you apply the finishing touches to your look, letting down the rest of your hair and touching up your lipstick, that sinking feeling in his chest grows and grows until he can’t ignore it any longer. Until it makes him ask a question he very well knows he shouldn’t.

“So, how’d you meet this guy again?”

You don’t answer right away, the question giving you pause as you spare him an odd look from the corner of your eye. You know as well as he does that the two of you don’t talk about things like this, at least not anymore. You’ve both learned it’s easier for everyone if you just spare each other the details about the people you’re seeing, and though you never agreed to it outright, it’s a rule you’ve both followed faithfully ever since. He’s not sure your friendship would’ve survived without it.

You seem surprised he’s willing to break it now, and honestly, so is he. Still, you decide to answer him anyway, though the guarded look in your eye makes him think you’d prefer not to.

“I told you, I met him at a happy hour. One of my co-workers introduced us. We talked, danced for a bit, and then he asked me out.”

“Right.” He crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the doorframe, hoping he sounds casual and disinterested, even though he feels anything but. “And was this before or after your fourth margarita of the night?”

You start to laugh, until you realize he’s being serious. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it does. Three-drink you is fun and likes to dance. Four-drink you, however, has poor judgment skills. Remember Aina’s birthday, when you, non-existent upper body strength and all, tried to do a handstand and nearly gave yourself a concussion?”

“Key word being nearly.” You grin, a mischievous glint in your eye nearly identical to the one you’d had on the night in question, and when all Mattsun can think is how endearing it makes you look, he knows he’s in trouble. “Besides, you’re one to talk. The last time you got drunk, I had to stop you from jumping the gate at Aina’s place, and that was only two drinks in.”

“In my defense, I was being chased–”

“By what, her six pound toy poodle?”

“Whatever. That’s not my point.”

“And what, pray tell, is your point, Issei?”

“My point is, what if you don’t actually like your IT guy as much as you think? What if he’s actually a huge creep and four-drink you just didn’t notice it because you had your margarita blinders on?”

He keeps his tone light and easy, hoping he sounds more concerned than jealous, because while he definitely doesn’t love the idea of you going out with someone else, he doesn’t actually want to make you think he’s questioning your judgment. He just wants to get you to reconsider things a bit without actually revealing how much he wants you to stay, how much he wants you.

“He is not a creep,” you say easily, in a firm voice that leaves little room for argument, and Matsukawa does his best to ignore how your words make him feel like he’s being punched in the ribs, how that feeling only worsens when he realizes this guy might actually be good for you. “He’s a sweet, cute, thoughtful guy who wants to get to know me better. He even left me a note on my desk this morning saying how excited he is to see me tonight.”

“So he broke into your office instead of just texting you about it?” He shakes his head, clicking his tongue. “I don’t know. Sounds like a creep to me. I wouldn’t blame you if you texted him right now saying you have to cancel on him. In fact, I’d even let you use my phone.”

“He didn’t break into anything, you weirdo. He was trying to be romantic, and it worked.” You cap your lipstick and set it on the counter, using a tissue to blot away any excess as you quirk an eyebrow at him in the mirror. “Why are you being so weird about this, anyway?”

“What? I’m not being weird about anything,” he denies quickly, though it’s hardly believable. You cast another odd look in his direction as you toss the tissue away, but still, you don’t call him out on it. And while part of him is grateful for that, there’s another part of him that almost wishes you would. “All I’m doing is expressing my concern for my best friend before she goes out with a man who may or may not have a history of breaking and entering.”

“Yeah, well, lucky for him, I don’t plan on pressing any charges.” You give your reflection one last look and smile, satisfied with your work. That’s when you turn to face him, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze as you pass him in the doorway. “So stop worrying so much, okay? I’ll be fine, I promise. Now come lock the door for me. I’ve gotta leave now if I want to get there in time.”

You head back into the hallway, and Mattsun, not having much of a choice, follows, though he’s not exactly happy about it. In fact, he finds himself dreading every step, knowing each one takes you further away from where he wants you to be, further away from him.

You’re by the front door now, dressed in your long coat with your purse thrown over your shoulder. You’re still talking as you remove your heels from the shoe rack and slip your feet inside. You mention something about there still being leftover stir fry in the fridge and how he shouldn’t wait up for you, but he can hardly register it over the sheer longing seizing his chest, worsening with every step you take towards the door.

And Matsukawa knows, long before he even says anything, that what he’s about to do is quite possibly the most selfish thing he’ll ever do in his life. But then he thinks about everything that’s happened between you two up until this point –about the fact that he has a playlist with all your favorite songs on it, about all the times he’s tucked you in after you’ve fallen asleep on his shoulder, about the way seeing you smile feels like home– and he figures it’s worth it.

Because the only thing worse than telling you the truth about how he feels and being rejected, he decides, would be keeping it to himself and regretting it later, the same way he’s been regretting it every day this past year.

“Hey.”

He says it so quietly that at first, you don’t hear him. It’s only when he calls your name that you stop, pausing in what you’re doing long enough to flash him a curious look.

And he knows he probably shouldn’t, knows it isn’t fair, but he braces himself and says it anyway, in the softest and most sincere voice you’ve ever heard him use.

“Don’t go.”

You blink, eyes wide as your body stills in the entryway. “...What?”

“Don’t go out with him tonight,” he repeats, stronger this time, firm. “Just stay here.” With me, he wants to add, but doesn’t, at least not yet. But then he watches the look in your eyes change, the confusion giving way to understanding, to shock, and he realizes he doesn’t need to. “Please. Just stay.”

For a long moment, you don’t say anything at all. You just stare at him, stunned, silent, a million emotions passing over your face in the span of a few seconds. There’s definitely anger, along with complete and utter disbelief, like you can’t even begin to fathom the fact that he’s doing this right now. If he’s being honest with himself, neither can he.

All he knows is that watching you walk out that door and smiling like he’s okay with it would’ve been another lie, and he’s so tired of lying to you, to himself. He’s tired of pretending that all the stolen glances and lingering touches you’ve exchanged over the years mean nothing, tired of pretending that he wants you any less than he actually does. He can only hope that you feel the same.

You have to know exactly what he’s trying to tell you, why he wants so badly for you to stay. You’re too smart not to. Still, you refuse to acknowledge it, eyes narrowing and expression hardening as you cross your arms over your chest.

Your reply is terse, stubborn, a question that sounds more like a warning. “And why should I do that?”

“You know why.”

“No, actually, I don’t–”

“Yes,” he interrupts you, quietly, knowingly, because you do. You do know. It’s written all over your face. You just don’t want to admit it, the same way he didn’t want to admit it when you found yourselves in this exact same situation last year. “Yes, you do.”

“No.” Your voice is low and sharp as you speak, the harshest he’s ever heard it, even as your eyes begin to water, even as your lip trembles. “No, I don’t– you can’t– you can’t do this to me, Issei. It isn’t fair. You can’t, not after everything, not when you’re the one who–”

“I know.” And the worst part is that he does. He knows you don’t deserve this, knows that he has the shittiest timing ever, but he can’t help it. He can’t let you slip through his fingers again, not after learning what it’s like to be so close to you, not after seeing the way your eyes met his in the mirror, like you could feel it, too. Like you could want him, like you could still want him, despite all the ways he knows he’s disappointed you. “I know that, okay? I know it’s not fair–”

“Do you? Do you, really? Because if you did, you wouldn’t be doing this to me right now.”

There’s anguish in your voice, thick enough to coat every word you say, a hurt so deep that he hates himself for not noticing it sooner. Even now, you try to hold it back, determined to keep him from seeing it and finding out how strong it is, how long you’ve held onto it, though whether it’s for your own sake or his, he can’t really tell. All he knows is that watching it happen makes him hate himself even more for doing this to you. Guilt coils around him and nestles somewhere deep inside his bones, tightening like a hand around his throat.

“This shouldn’t even be a conversation. Not again. Not now.” You shake your head and blink back tears, the grip you have on your keys tight and unforgiving. “You’re the one who rejected me, remember?”

It’s enough to make Mattsun wince, even more so because it’s true. “It wasn’t like– I didn’t mean to–”

“But you did, Issei! You did. Last year, when I told you I had feelings for you, you let me. You let me pour my heart out, let me kiss you– hell, you even kissed me back, and then? Then you told me it was a mistake, that it couldn’t happen, that you didn’t see me that way and that we were just friends–”

“I know what I said!”

He doesn’t mean to shout –it’s actually the last thing he wants to do, especially when he’s the one who screwed things up in the first place– but that’s what comes out. It stuns you both into silence, though it’s nothing like the comfortable ones you usually share. This one is heavy and tense, weighed down by the gravity of all that’s happened between you, by all the things you’ve left unsaid.

He shuts his eyes, pausing to take a deep breath as he rakes a hand through his hair. When he opens them and starts to speak again, his voice is much softer, though the tension between you is still there, like a fever you can’t seem to shake, a chain that binds you to each other, for better or worse.

“I know what I said, okay? And I lied. I lied about everything. Back then, what I told you, it wasn’t because I didn’t have feelings for you, because I did. I do.”

The confession leaves you both floored, though for very different reasons. Him because of how easily it fell out of his mouth, how right it felt to say it, and you because you can’t believe it, because it’s the last thing you expected to hear.

“You what?” Your eyes are wide, lips parted as you gape at him. “But you told me– when did you– how could you even–”

“How could I not? You’re smart as hell, not to mention confident and unfairly funny. You’re impossibly stubborn, too, especially if it’s something you’re passionate about, and so much kinder than you give yourself credit for. And god, when I look at you? I can’t– I can’t stop looking at you.”

He takes a step forward, bridging the distance between you, and you’re so stunned that you let him. It makes him brave enough to reach out a hand to you, cupping your face in his palm. Your eyes widen at the contact, but you don’t push him away.

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” he says, quieter now but still so sincere, as he brushes your cheek gently with his thumb. “So I need you to know, all of those things I said back then– they had nothing to do with my feelings for you.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me that?” Your voice cracks, a tear escaping your eye and rolling down your cheek, and it does something awful to his heart, knowing he’s the reason for it. “Why did you lie and say that you only saw me as a friend?”

And though the memory of what he’s done and of all the ways he’s hurt you still fills him with shame and regret, Mattsun knows that he owes it to you to tell the truth, so that’s exactly what he does.

“Because I was scared. We were friends for so long, and the way I felt about you –the way I still feel about you– I’ve never felt that way about anyone before. And all I could think about was if we decided to be something more, and things went wrong, then I’d lose you. And I didn’t– I couldn't risk that.”

The laugh that leaves your throat is bitter and humorless, even as another tear falls from your eye. He’s quick to wipe it away, though part of him knows even before he does it that it’s nowhere near enough to make up for everything he’s put you through. “So you decided to lie to me about it instead?”

He looks down, ashamed. “I’m sorry. I know it was shitty–”

“It wasn’t just shitty, Issei, it was fucking heartbreaking. You broke my fucking heart.”

You reach for his wrist and tug, removing his hand from your face and stepping away from him. The distance hurts you both more than you know, but you’re too upset to think about that right now, voice raw as you snap at him.

“When you let me kiss you –when you chose to kiss me back– you made me think that it was worth it, that you might actually feel the same way, only to take it back and tell me that you didn’t, that you wanted us to just stay friends.”

You’re practically shaking now, all that pain and heartache you’ve tried so hard to bury clawing their way back up to the surface, tumbling out of you before you can stop them.

“And hearing that fucking sucked, of course it did, but I accepted it because it’s what I thought you wanted, because our friendship meant more to me than my own feelings did. And now that I am finally making my peace with it, now that I’m actually trying to move on, you turn around and tell me that it was all a lie? That you actually have feelings for me?”

You shake your head, reeling and incredulous. Your eyes fill with tears while his heart aches to hold you, and it’s like you’re both reliving that night all over again.

Mattsun remembers it all too well, that night your senior year of college, when you, him, and the rest of your friends packed into Aina’s apartment for one of her notorious parties. The two of you stood together on the balcony, nursing lukewarm beers and lamenting your upcoming final exams. Neither of you were entirely sure what your plans were for after graduation, but what you did know was that you didn’t want to end the year with any regrets.

He thinks that’s what brought it out of you back then, what made you turn to him, nervous but brave, and say you had something you needed to tell him. He never would’ve guessed that you’d say you had feelings for him, or that you’d curl your fist into his shirt and press your lips to his only a few moments after.

And you’re right. He did kiss you back. He let you run your fingers through his hair and tug him closer, let his tongue dip into your mouth and his lips trail down your jaw and neck as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He would’ve kept kissing you, too, would’ve kept you breathless and whispered that he felt the same against your lips, the way he’d been feeling for so long, if it weren’t for the fear that planted itself into his head immediately after.

Because Matsukawa’s been in relationships before. They hadn’t all ended terribly, of course –he’s not that much of an asshole– but no matter what terms he and his previous partners had ended on, the truth of the matter was that they never spoke again.

And the thought of that happening with you –the thought of never speaking to you again, of losing you forever– terrified him, leaving him panicked and afraid enough to decide, right then and there, that no matter how much he wanted it –no matter how much he wanted you– this would be a road the two of you couldn’t go down.

So he pulled away. He lied, feeding you some bullshit line about not feeling the same and about the two of you being better off as friends, even though it broke his heart to do so, even though every fiber of his being ached to pull you back to him. Your lip trembled and your eyes watered, but you didn’t cry. You just nodded and accepted it, told him that you understood, that it was fine.

You didn’t see each other for the rest of the weekend. When you did finally meet up, it was for lunch at the campus cafe, a tradition between classes you’d established your freshman year. You agreed to stay friends, and then you never talked about it again.

Until tonight, of course, when he asked you to stay. Until right now.

It hits him, then, how selfish he’s been, how thoughtless. Before, Mattsun told himself that lying to you about his feelings was the best thing for both of you, the only way to ensure that your friendship would remain intact and to keep you from losing each other. Not once did he stop to consider whether or not that was something you actually wanted, and it’s only now that he’s realizing how deeply unfair that was of him.

Even now, he’s still being selfish with you, confessing his feelings an entire year later, as if that makes it better, as if he still has the right. And sure, you leaned into his touch earlier; sure, you let him run his fingers up your back and hold your waist, but that doesn’t mean you still want him that way. It doesn’t mean that you have to forgive him, either, not when he doesn’t deserve it.

Earlier, he thought being honest with you about his feelings was the right thing to do. Now he’s not so sure. All he knows is that he’s really, really sorry. That he hates himself for hurting you, and that if he ever really plans on doing right by you, then the first thing he needs to do is apologize.

So he does.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you, soft, sincere, and you know how much he means it. You see it in the way his shoulders slump, in the sad, regretful way he looks at you. “I’m sorry for lying to you and for making you believe I didn’t have feelings for you, even though I did. I’m sorry for hurting you. And I’m sorry for waiting to tell you all of this now, even though I should’ve said something sooner. I’m just– I’m really, really sorry. For everything.”

You don’t accept his apology, but you don’t tell him to go fuck himself, either, which is honestly more than he deserves. Instead, you take a tentative step towards him, folding your arms over your chest. Your eyes are still a little watery, but you’re not actively crying anymore, though a few tears linger on the curve of your cheeks. He wants to wipe them away again, but he thinks better of it and keeps his hands at his sides, unsure of how you’d react if he did.

“Why didn’t you?” you ask, and it’s not angry or sad anymore, just curious, confused. “Say something sooner, I mean.”

“Because it was too late. Because you were dating again, and it would’ve been wrong of me to get in the way of you being happy.” He shifts on his feet, guilty and apologetic, as he averts his gaze to the floor. “I figured you’d moved on. And even if you hadn’t, part of me was still scared of saying something and losing you anyway.”

“Then why risk it now?” You take another step, and his eyes jump back to your face, watching as you tilt your head at him, soft and seeking. “Why is tonight any different?”

“I didn’t think it would be,” he admits, because honestly, it shouldn’t have been. It wasn’t supposed to be, at least, until you gasped when his fingers brushed your skin, the sound embedding itself somewhere deep inside his brain. It did something to him, that sound, woke something up he had almost forgotten about.

“When you told me about your date, I thought I could pretend to be okay with it, that I could ignore it the way I’ve done before. And I was going to, I was trying to, but then…” He lets his voice trail off, lets his gaze lock onto yours the way it did before, warm and wanting. “Then I saw the way you looked at me in the mirror.”

Your eyes widen a fraction, lips parting. Your gaze jumps down to his hands, then back up to his face, and you swallow like you’re remembering it, too.

“I held you, and you let me. And I know it was only for a minute, but it just– I don’t know, it gave me hope, I guess? That it wasn’t too late. That what I was feeling wasn’t one-sided.” He shakes his head and lifts a hand to rub at the back of his neck, a small, sad smile curving its way onto his lips. “I know it sounds stupid–”

“It’s not.” You take his free hand into your own, and he watches, stunned, as you lift it towards you, letting his palm rest against the side of your face. He wonders if you notice his pulse pounding in his ears, how fast his heart is racing. “It’s not stupid.”

Slowly, tentatively, he wipes away what’s left of your tears, and to his surprise, you let him. You even go as far as leaning into his touch, cheek pressing gently into the curve of his hand. You open your mouth to speak again, a breathless little sigh of his name he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of.

“Issei, I–”

The rest of your sentence is cut off by the sound of your phone ringing. It’s a proper ring this time, too, not an alarm like before. And Mattsun knows, even before you look at it, that it’s your date who’s calling, just like he knows, even before you turn to him with that apologetic look of yours, what you’re going to do next.

Because Mattsun knows you, which means he knows that you’re the kind of person who always keeps her word, who makes plans and sticks to them. And like it or not, you made plans to meet with your IT guy tonight, plans he knows you’re not going to cancel on, no matter how much he wants you to.

His only consolation is that you look really conflicted about it, eyes flickering down to your phone in your hand, then back up to his face. It’s still ringing, but you’ve made no move to answer it. He almost starts to doubt that you will. Almost.

You don’t bother to say who’s calling, because both of you already know. Instead, you take a deep breath, voice heavy with uncertainty as you stare down at your phone. “I…I told him I was on my way. I didn’t think–”

“That I’d be selfish enough to ambush you with all of my repressed feelings before you could make it through the door? Yeah, me neither.” He tries to laugh about it, but it’s forced, hollow. It sounds nothing like him. “And again, I’m really sorry for that. The point is, you don’t have to explain yourself to me. All of this is my fault, anyway, remember?”

You frown at him, looking very badly like you want to argue, but something in his expression must stop you, because you don’t. Still, there’s guilt in your eyes when you meet his gaze again, and though it should make him feel better, he thinks it just makes him feel worse. “I have to go.”

“I know.” He brushes his thumb against your cheek once more before letting his hand fall back to his side. The smile he gives you is pained, sad. It doesn’t meet his eyes. “Be safe, all right?”

He takes a step back, letting you go for the second time in the past year. It feels just as awful and heartbreaking as it did the first, but he refuses to feel sorry for himself. He’s already been selfish enough with you tonight by confessing to you when you were halfway out the door. The least he can do for you after all that is to give you the space to move on.

The steps you take towards the door now are hesitant, unsure, so different from the way you felt only moments ago. It hurts, watching you walking away from him, but this time, he knows better than to stop you.

“Issei?” The sound of your voice draws his attention back to you, as you turn from the now open door to look at him from over your shoulder. “We’ll talk when I get back, okay?”

He doesn’t trust himself enough to speak, so he settles for just nodding. Just like before, you spend longer than you need to just looking at each other, gazes locked, a million things left unsaid between you.

And just like before, you’re the first to turn away, the door shutting quietly behind you.

The sound of your key turning in the lock makes Mattsun jolt up from the couch. He’s been laying there sulking ever since you left, a bowl of popcorn resting on his chest and a lukewarm beer in his hand.

He scrambles to sit himself up into a slightly less pathetic position, discarding the bowl of popcorn onto the coffee table. He considers putting the beer there, too, but ultimately decides against it, knowing you’d chew him out for not using a coaster. He ends up putting it on the floor instead and forces himself to stare at the tv in front of him, an old movie playing on the screen that he’s hardly paid any attention to, too busy stressing out over how your date was going and what the future of your relationship will be after all of this.

A quick glance at his phone confirms that it’s been less than an hour since you left. Forty minutes, at most. He wonders if that’s a good thing or a bad one. Don’t successful dates usually last longer? Or are you back now to tell him that things went so well that you have no interest in talking to him ever again? He isn’t sure, and the uncertainty makes him want to throw up.

The door opens and shuts, and he hears the usual sounds of you settling back into your apartment, the jingle of your keys in the bowl, the click of your heels on the shoe rack. Your feet pad across the floor, and then you appear at the foot of the couch, wearing the dress he picked out.

You look lovely. You always do. You’re a little nervous, too, standing with your hands clasped behind your back, a hesitant look in your eyes as you greet him. “Hi.”

“Hey,” he replies, for lack of anything else to offer. He gives a little wave, too, though it hardly does anything to ease the tension between you.

You nod at the couch. “Do you mind if I—?”

“Yeah, sure— I mean, no, of course I don’t mind. Go for it.” He shifts to give you a little more space, and you settle into the spot next to him, bringing your legs up to your chest. It’s tense and awkward, the complete opposite of how things usually are when you’re with each other. He doesn’t look at you when he clears his throat and speaks again. “You’re home early.”

“I wasn’t supposed to be,” is your quick reply. It’s blunt and honest enough to make him smile, despite how weighted things are between you now. “Earlier today, I was planning on spending the whole night enjoying my date, until this guy I know ruined it all by confessing his feelings for me right before I left.”

“That guy sounds like an asshole,” he says, only half-joking, and when he turns back to you and sees the way you start to smile, he figures it’s worth it. He leans back against the couch, running a hand through his hair. “You must really hate him, huh?”

“That’s the thing.” You reach out and take one of his hands, sliding your fingers through his own. It’s something you’ve done a million times before, but it feels different now, warm and deliberate in a way that has his heart racing. “I don’t.”

It surprises the hell out of him, hearing you say that –because honestly, after everything he’s done, you should hate him– but it also fills him with relief, makes him let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Still, it isn’t long before guilt starts to wash over him again, an awful, ugly thing that makes him want to draw into himself, if only you weren’t still holding onto him.

Mattsun looks down at your linked hands. Your grip is firm and tender, your skin warm and welcome against his, and all he can think is that he doesn’t deserve it. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did. After everything I put you through, you should hate me.”

“But I don’t. It’s true, what you did was stupid and selfish. You never should’ve lied to me in the first place, but it’s not like you did it to hurt me on purpose. You actually thought you were doing what was best for me, in your own weird way. And yeah, it was dumb as hell, but it’s not enough to make me hate you.”

You hold his hand a little tighter, squeezing your fingers around his. He wonders if you know how much it means to him now, how terrified he was at the thought of losing you.

“I could never hate you, Issei,” you say, and the honest, earnest way you meet his gaze makes him believe you. “I just wish you would’ve told me the truth sooner.”

“I should’ve been honest with you from the beginning. I’m sorry that I wasn’t.” He reaches out to you with a free hand, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear. “But mostly I’m sorry for hurting you.”

“I know. I forgive you.” You give his hand another gentle squeeze, brushing your thumb along the back of his skin. “Which is why I never actually made it to the restaurant for my date.”

He blinks, eyes widening. The shock is almost enough to make him drop your hand, but he holds fast, even as his gaze turns incredulous. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, really. I tried to forget about everything that happened before I left, but all I could think about was you. I was halfway to the restaurant when I realized I couldn’t go through with it. It wouldn’t have been fair to either of us, but mostly to him. So I called him and told him I couldn’t do it, and then I came back here.”

Mattsun tries very hard to hide his grin, but when you nudge at his thigh and flick his forehead with your free hand, an unamused expression on your face, he realizes he’s probably doing a shitty job at it.

“You could at least pretend to feel a little bad, you know,” you scold him, though there’s no real bite to it. “He’s a good guy.”

“Hey, I do feel bad.” The doubtful look you give him makes him reconsider his answer. “Sort of. Not really.”

You roll your eyes, muttering something about him being too smug for his own good, but you don’t stop him when he wraps his free arm around your shoulders, letting him pull you into his side.

“Honestly, I’m just happy you came back,” he says, soft and vulnerable, the way you always seem to make him. “I was really scared that you wouldn’t.”

You rest your head against his shoulder and shrug in a noncommittal fashion, though the way you nuzzle into him and squeeze his hand is nothing short of comforting. “Yeah, well, it was either that or find a new roommate, and honestly, in this economy, it just wasn’t worth the trouble.”

Now it’s Mattsun’s turn to roll his eyes, pretending to be annoyed, even as his lips curl into a smile. “Yeah, yeah, we get it, you’re hilarious.”

“Damn right I am. What was it you said again?” You lower your voice, teasing and playful, delivering an impression of him that’s not even slightly accurate but still makes you throw your head back and cackle like you’re the funniest person in the world. “Oh, baby, you’re so smart and confident and unfairly funny, I can’t stop looking at you–”

Mattsun’s entire face goes red, and he has no choice but to tackle you, the rest of your sentence fading into a gasp which is quickly followed up by a protest as he wrestles you on the couch. All of a sudden, you’re on your back, body pressed between him and the cushions as he hovers over you.

Then his hands are at your sides, tickling you into submission. You gasp and laugh as you try to roll your way out of his grasp and into freedom, and pretty soon he’s laughing, too, and all that tension and anxiety from before disappears, leaving behind the comfort and familiarity you’re used to, the one that feels like home.

Eventually, he takes pity on you, and your wrestling match turned tickle war ends, allowing you both to catch your breath. Still, he doesn’t let you go, easing himself up on his forearms to keep his weight off you, face hovering only inches above your own.

“I meant what I said before, you know. I really am sorry. For everything.”

“I know.” You brush your thumb along his jaw, eyes tracing the movement before flickering back up to meet his own. “So where does this leave us?”

“Wherever you want. I never should’ve lied to you, no matter what my reasons were. And I definitely shouldn’t have waited so long to tell you the truth. It was unfair of me to make that decision for the both of us in the first place. So whatever happens next, wherever we go from here, it’ll be up to you.”

He pauses for a moment, letting his words sink in. You seem satisfied by his response, if the way your eyes soften is any indication, and nod for him to continue.

“If you want me to walk away, then I will.” It’ll break his heart and hurt like hell, of course, but he’ll do it, if that’s what you want, because he meant what he said. What happens from here on out will be on your terms, not just his. “If you want to stay friends, then we will. And if you want us to try dating, I’ll be outside your room door at 7 tomorrow night to pick you up.”

You pause to consider it for a moment, tilting your head, and then the bright look in your eyes, the one he’s always loved, darkens just a bit, turning into something wanting, something deliberate. Something that looks like desire.

“And what if I want you to kiss me?” you ask, in that bold and daring way of yours, the one that drew him to you in the first place.

Mattsun’s eyes widen, heart nearly careening out of his chest at your words. Every bone in his body urges him to lean down, to close the distance between you and press his lips to yours in the way he’s been wanting to all night.

Still, he finds it in himself to pause, drawing back enough to meet your gaze and ask, “Are you sure?”

You end up closing the distance for him, teeth grazing his bottom lip and making him groan. “Very sure.”

He doesn’t hesitate anymore after that. He tilts his head and presses his lips to yours in a way that has you both sighing, mouth moving in tandem against your own. Your hands tangle in his hair while he uses one of his to grip at your thigh, fingers pressing into your skin as he lifts your leg and guides it to wrap around his waist.

You’re both breathless when you pull away, lips smudged with red, pupils blown wide. Matsukawa thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful. Your hands move from his hair to cup his face, thumbs brushing against his jaw.

“You gonna run away this time?” you ask.

“Never again,” he swears, turning his head just enough to press his lips to the inside of your palm. “I promise.”

And it’s a promise, you’re pleased to note, that he never fails to keep.

Written by: Dawn

#matsukawa x reader #mattsun x reader #matsukawa issei x reader #haikyuu x reader #matsukawa imagines #haikyuu imagines #matsukawa x y/n #matsukawa x you #haikyu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #hq x reader #our writing #matsukawa angst #haikyuu angst #dawn writes

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bokuroskitten · 2 years

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᯽⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ BIG BEEFY MEN 😵‍💫

Ft. Bokuto, Taiju, Tengen, Toji, Osamu, Draken

Warnings: size kink x 1727292718, manhandling and lots of it, fem bodied reader, titles used: papa, daddy, sir, overstimulation, edging, implied age gap for toji’s part, mentions of creampie, slight exhibitionism for Osamu, drool, cute pet names like baby, princess, etc, only lightly edited my bad

Note: I had too much fun writing this YEJAJJS, like 😵‍💫, it also took me a while cause every time I would add another guy I would daydream for like a couple hours 🤤 this is multifandom cause there are just too many beefy men to go around, and honestly I could have added more (Daichi, Matsukawa, Todo, Mirio, Sakuna, Benkei… 😵‍💫😵‍💫) but then I’d be at this forever UWJAJ so take this, for now, <333 reblogs, comments and feedback are always greatly appreciated <3

Bokuto:

Bokuto who works out 6 days a week and still runs on the 7th 😔 he’s always working on his muscles, making sure he’s physically fit and always up to par for volleyball. Iwaizumi keeps him on a strict workout regime and he doesn’t mind that, considering it shows results and makes him feel good. You honestly don’t mind the schedule either, because you get to watch him pump bars over his head, muscles contracting and rippling, sweat dripping in beads along his toned chest. He’s a god really, with a build like that, and your eyes can’t help but stayed glued to him. It’s only when he clears his throat that you realize you’ve been caught, cheeks suddenly starting to burn as you snap your eyes away from his abs and up to his face. That smug look of his doesn’t help your embarrassment, making you bite your lip sheepishly. “Enjoyin the view, birdy?” He asks through a grin, and you don’t bother lying, you’ve been caught away so you nod, heart doing a little flip in your chest when he holds a hand out to you. You don’t hesitate to go to his side, allowing his hand to guide your own over the plane of his abs. Your fingertips trace the defined muscles there, despite how they still contract and sweat and you sigh softly, pupils basically in little heart shapes when you look back up at him. “You look so good, Koutarou….”

He’s got you laid out flat on his workout bench, clothes were haphazardly thrown across the padded flooring. Your slips hang open in a silent cry as he looms over you again, chest pressed right up to your back as his cock bullies its way to the hilt back into your gummy walls. His groan right next to your ear is almost overwhelming, his body swallowing you up and taking over all your senses as his hips hump up against your ass, pushing and pulling his cock shallowly in and out of you. When you let out a hiccuping sigh against the leather of the bench he chuckles softly, teeth grazing against your ear. “Liked bein stuffed like this, huh baby? Wanna be stuffed with cum too, don’t you?” You nod because the words don’t form, becoming lost on your tongue and replaced with whines as soon as Bokuto starts rotating his hips. One thick arm manages to slip underneath you and his palm rests open on your tummy, uncaring of the sweat and slick that makes everything a little messier. “Cum f’me.” His words vibrate against your back, his index finger managing to find your clit to add a steady pressure to the pulsing bud. You would have jolted, but you’re trapped beneath him, so all you can do is let out a shaky sob. “Cum f’papa and I’ll give you exactly what you want~”

Taiju:

Taiju is a busy man, running his successful restaurant was a full-time job that took up a lot of his time. And yet despite this, he always made time for his baby. He’d take you along to special events, and business meetings, but especially to suit fittings. You were the one that made him rekindle his relationship with Mitsuya, knowing that he would be the best person for the job in terms of making a suit that would actually fit Taiju’s size and stature. You claimed you went to talk to Mitsuya, which may have been part of the reason, but Taiju knew why you went along to every fitting. You got to see him almost naked, arms outstretched and shoulder blades contracting as Mitsuya took his proper measurements. He watched you through the full-length mirrors that covered the studio walls. How you’d press your thighs together, squirming in the chair you sat in. How your eyes would get glossy when he’d slip the brand new suit jacket on, testing the fit and how it would look perfect on his frame. The best is when he’d pull the suit pants on for the first time and your eyes were literally glued to his butt, lip bitten between your lips almost swollen. Mitsuya would leave the room as Taiju undressed into his normal clothes, and it’s only then that he’d scoff softly, eyes a bit narrowed as he finally catches your attention. “You’re so obvious.” He states, only making you fiddle with the hem of your skirt a bit more as you try to play innocent. “Staring at me like a piece of meat. Bet your panties are soaked through…”

As soon as the two of you got back to your shared home he’d have you pinned against a wall. If you had it your way you would’ve done it in the car, but Taiju wanted to make you wait and teased you the whole drive. Reminder you that only whores get that hot and bothered so easily, held your thigh in his big hand cause he knew it made you melt seeing how he could so easily grip the fat there. He picked you up at this point, your skirt bunched up at your waist and your panties ripped clean off. His hands gripped harshly to the fat of thighs, holding you up against the wall with nothing but strength as he used the force of gravity to fuck up into you. The slap of his hips was wet from how much you were dribbling, his eyes wide and feral as he watched your head lull back against the wall, a bit of drool leaving your lips that were stuck hung in a silent scream. He grins, lips littering sloppy kisses along your neck, uncaring of the marks he left behind. “Pretty lil dumb thing…” he murmurs, grinding his hips so his cock could thoroughly stir your insides. “This is all you think about, isn’t it? Getting fucked open by my big cock?” That caught your attention, nodding your head as your nails leave crescents into his shoulder. You’re mumbling “yes sir, yes Taiju” as his speed suddenly picks up, loving the feeling of your breasts bouncing against his chest. “Such a good girl.”

Tengen:

Tengen knows he’s attractive, he has 4 wives who all adore him, of course, he’s attractive. He also knows very that he’s built like a god, with muscles that bulge just right, flex and make him look even better. Sure, he got this way from hard work and dedication, but it helps too that he’s naturally flashy, with a good style and personality to go with his looks. He knows that people watch him, he knows that people flirt with him, and rather openly. Most of his wives have gotten used to this, but you? You’re a little newer, can’t help but be a bit protective and a lil insecure when it comes to your partner. So when you see two women flirting with him at a festival, something like jealousy flames within your belly. You can’t even help the way you get upset, lips twisting into a pout. It’s when one of the random women has the audacity to put her hand onto his bicep, giving it a squeeze that you lose it. You cling onto him, basically prying him away from their grimy hands and sending them a death glare in the process. The girls got the memo instantly, slinking away with grumbles and pouts of their own. To make matters worse Tengen is oblivious to it all. He was used to this, people hitting on him, but you acting like this? “What’s wrong?” He asks, the amusement in his tone only making you ten times angrier. Rather than explaining yourself you flip him off, an action that only fuels him further to get an answer out of you…

Your back is trembling against his chest, his fingers so lazily petting at your clit driving you absolutely wild but you can’t do anything about it. Your hands are trapped behind you between your bodies, bound by the silky material of the cord that usually holds his robe together. His cock somehow looks even bigger right now, stuffed within your quivering pussy and stretching it open. His base is covered already in a layer of your sheen that’s been steadily leaking out of you and yet he still hasn’t let you cum. You Yelp from the sudden impact of his fingertips against your swollen numb, fat tears finally spilling from your lashes and onto your hot cheeks. “Why would you ever need to be jealous, pretty? Ever?” He questions you again, fingers going back to slowly rolling your clit. You let out a soft sob, head lulling back into his broad chest as you try to buck your hips along his cock, only for his free hand to keep you firmly in place. “Don’t you know I picked you for a reason? Don’t you know I love you so, so much that I wanted you and only you to join the girls and me in our marriage?” His voice lowers as you start to flutter around his cock again, and his fingers start to speed up, finally. “Won’t ask ya again, tell me, do you know I love you?” You cry out, lips bit swollen as you tilt your head back enough to meet his gaze. He flashes you a smile, the first one you’ve gotten since the start of this punishment and you whimper, nodding dumbly. “I-I know, I-I know daddy, m’sorry, was bein dumb—“ He shushes you with his lips, finally moving his hips. He bucks them up into you, making your whole body bounce in his lap from the sheer size difference. “Not dumb, never dumb Darlin.. ya just forget sometimes…” The knot in your stomach finally snaps as he circles your clit, the squeeze of your pussy making his groan into your open mouth. “Just forget how perfect ya are f’me, that’s all.”

Toji:

Toji, big big Toji who knows very well that most ladies are attracted to him for his size. He likes to go for the little shy ones. The ones that stare at him with innocent eyes, look at him a little longer than they should and always manage to get caught. He’ll send you a wink, sometimes even wave playfully just to get you all the more embarrassed. His favourite type to go for though, as horrible as it is, are the girls his son is always bringing home. It’s a little fucked up, isn’t it? But Toji knows, knows that his son may try his best, but he can’t please a woman like he can, not yet anyway. So as his father, it’s his job to keep Megumi’s girls pleased when he can’t do so himself. He sees it as helping of course, surely the girl will stick with his son longer if she knows she’ll get a treat every time she comes over…

“Skirts shorter than usual…” Toji muses, his eyes lit up in amusement as his fingers brushed over the soft pleats found in the fabric. His hips are snapping back into your ass again just so your lips hang open, the start of a yelp about to escape had he not shoved the hem of the skirt between your lips. You muffle a whine into the material, fingers curling up against the wall you were currently pressed up against. “Musta wanted me to notice, isn’t that right dollface?” He says between a chuckle, his grin getting bigger as he gets a better grip on your hips, making you stick your ass out a bit more and arch your back for him. This angle allows his cock head to smack into your cervix, kissing it with the tip and threatening to break through. His balls are heavy as they slap against your skin, only adding to the lewd, wet slaps that echo from your cute pussy. He leans closer to your ear, whispering against the soft flesh when you let out a string of sobs about how you’re gunna cum. “Yea? Gunna cum for daddy are ya?” He laughs when you nod, teeth sinking into your shoulder as one thick hand slides over your hips to tease on your clit, helping you reach your high faster. “Go on, make sure you’re loud enough that your boyfriend knows his daddy is fucking you this good.”

Osamu:

Osamu has always been the bulkier of the two twins. Even in their volleyball days, his muscles weren’t as lean as Atsumu’s. He was built bigger, shoulders broader, the baby fat on his cheeks remaining longer. Now as an adult his muscles didn’t go away, oh no, he needs them to lift the heavy bags of rice to and from the restaurant, but he has certainly filled out. Shoulders spreading, biceps bulging. A light layer of fat forms over his chest, the muscles underneath just making him look bigger. The T-shirts he always wears show these off, and although he takes no mind to how his body has changed, you certainly have. It makes you drool when his arms flex as he quickly cuts up vegetables and when he grunts as he lifts a rice bag on his shoulder. The best is when he ties his apron around him, Accentuating just how small his waist still is despite how he’s broadened out. He doesn’t even realize how attractive he is, honestly. You can’t even help yourself when you gawk at him at work, and you certainly can’t help how heat pools between your legs. He starts to really notice when you pout up at him, pretty legs rubbing together on the stool you sit at…

“Couldn’t even wait until we got home.” He’s grumbling his words against your lips as if he’s not happy to have his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. “Too fuckin spoiled to wait.” He added, his reprimanding turning into a grunt when your nails run through his hair, scratching lightly over his scalp just the way he likes it. He latches onto your lower lip, suckling it like his favourite treat as his big hands grab at your thighs. He tenderly squeezes the flesh he loves before gripping it, easily hauling you up onto the countertop he was previously making food on. He’s thankful you’re wearing a skirt today because all it takes is one good tug and your panties are ripped clean off, exposing your dampened lower lips to him and making goosebumps rise on your lips. He clicks his tongue when you start to complain about how those were your favourite pair, one of his palms pressing into your tummy to easily push you back into the cold countertop. “Quit yer bitchin, I’ll get a new pair.” You were about to shoot back, but all your words get lost on your tongue when he spits onto your pussy, two thick fingers locked in and rubbing on your clit. A smirk twitches on his lips, shaking his head as he watches just how easily you come undone for him. He presses a kiss to your hip bone. “That’s it, be a good girl and take what you want, gunna fuck ya real good.”

Draken:

we all know I could go on for hours about Draken 😔 I mean do you blame me? He’s huge, the biggest of all his friends in both height and build. He’s always been naturally big, the width of his shoulders sometimes making it hard for him to find proper attire that fits him comfortably. Hence why he settles for tank tops a lot, which gives him more space to breathe. Would never admit it out loud but he 100% is very aware when you’re checking him out and he LOVES it. Draken doesn’t like to flaunt himself but when you do it it’s different. Makes his cheeks heat up a bit and his cock twitch knowing how damn lucky he is to have someone as pretty as you obsessed with him like that. So he’ll let you stare, whether it be while he’s working at the shop, working out, or simply when the two of you are out. He’ll let your eyes linger on him, sometimes he’ll even flex on purpose, holding back laughter when you suck in a sharper breath. He will tease you about it, sometimes of course cause he can’t even help himself. He’ll turn and smirk at you, “like what you see, princess?” Or “my eyes are up here, goofy.” But comments like that always leave you in a huff and he’ll have to chase you after to make up for it. Which is fine, but sometimes, he lets you linger, lets you really stare and get yourself worked up, cause that’s when you’ll pounce him. You have such little patience, and it’s so so amusing to your big boyfriend when you try to drag his ass around to get what you desire from him…

As soon as the two of you had returned home from your date you had dragged Draken to the couch, not even bothering to bring him to the bedroom because it had been far too long and you were craving him already. He had worn that tank top you love so much, with the low-cut armholes that show off his toned sides and arms. You just couldn’t take it. You needed to have him. Which is how you ended up straddling his lap, needy whines leaving your lips as your fingers desperately tried to unbuckle his belt, simply settling for pawing at his crotch when you couldn’t seem to get it. He’s grinning, holding back little strings of laughter. “Eager huh?” Normally you would have snapped back at a comment like that, but when his fingers finally freed his cock, you simply sighed in contentment, licking your lips at how it stood at attention, leaking so pretty just for you to sit on. You had already discarded your bottoms, lifting yourself on your hunches and easing yourself easily onto his cock. The stretch was always mind-numbing, back arching and goosebumps forming on your thighs as you slowly work your way over him. The little whimpers, whines, needy noises you made were a melody to Draken’s ears, his hands massaging the supple skin of your thighs as you moved at your own pace. He groaned softly when your pussy started to flutter around him already, your walls being stubborn as usual when first taking him in. “Fuck—“ he gritted out, pupils dilating when you looked at him with teary eyes, lips puffy as you huffed. “Help me, Ken, want all of you.” His hands slid from your thighs to your waist, bearing his teeth in an amused grin as he lifted you up with ease, just enough that his head sat between your walls. He didn’t hesitate when he slammed you back down on his cock, sheathing all the way on his cock, the knock of it up against your cervix making your breath leave you in a gasp. He doesn’t let up from there, using the bruising grip he has on your love handles to bounce you up and down on his cock. “So. Fucking. Needy— and you can’t even take what you want on your own? Really are just a dumb lil baby aren’t you, princess?” You’re sobbing from the brutal pace, head lulling onto his shoulder as he bounces you like you’re nothing. And to him, it’s a simple task, the pleasure of the pretty tight walls milking his cock only making it easier for him to manhandle you. “Fuck—“ he grins, planting his feet so his hips can fuck up into you, further jolting you along his cock. “You just sit pretty, daddy will do all the work—“

Property of bokuroskitten™️ DO NOT COPY/TAKE/TRANSLATE ONTO ANY OTHER PLATFORM⁉️

Member of: @tokyometronetwork @hanayanetwork

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gatitties · 1 year

Text

Kidnapped

Manager Miniseries

─ Aoba Josai x fem!reader + Shiratorizawa

─ Summary: your friend insists that they have a practice match with your team and Oikawa is exaggerating

─ Warnings: none

5 < 6 > 7

The Shiratorizawa men's volleyball team was at the house of their beloved great ace, apart from doing a study session they decided to meet to talk about new techniques to win the tournament and go to Tokyo. Everyone was concentrated until the doorbell rang, the mother of the family opened by happily greeting the newcomer.

"What a surprise to see you here! I haven't seen you in a long time. What brings you here, honey?"

"Well..." you scratched the back of your neck, averting your gaze "my parents wanted me to come by, also to see if Toshi could help me with some issues."

"I was just going to leave, but Wakatoshi is in his room studying, he will gladly help you."

"Thank you, have a good day Mrs. Ushi"

"You too sweetie."

You entered the house saying goodbye to the owner, knowing that you would be alone before going to the room, you went to the kitchen to get a package of cookies. Your parents had forced to go so that Ushijima could help you study mathematics —a subject in which you were disgusting— knowing that he was a good student as well as that their families were very close. You walked unhurriedly to the well-known room, you entered as if were your own house, throwing on the bed without realizing that you practically crushed a boy. A boy who was clearly not your friend.

"Hey Tosh-"

You choked on the cookies when saw how there were more boys in the room, and to top it off, one of them was trying to get you off of him.

"Uh, sorry about that."

The poor black-haired man shook his head nervously and frantically as you backed away from him, muttering more apologies for putting him in such a situation.

"I-It's okay!"

Thunderous laughter filled the room, a redhead laughing tearfully as he watched the bowl cut boy grow more agitated by the second.

"(N) what are you doing here?"

“I need help with math, you know..." you played down the importance, brushing the crumbs off your shirt "but if you're busy I can come back another day."

"Wait, wait, Ushiwaka knows a cute girl?"

"Tendou, don't make those comments as if she wasn't here."

A boy with gray hair and darker tips scolded the redhead who teased him calling him 'semisemi mom' for scolding him, you ignored the small verbal fight in the background focusing on your friend.

"No problem, we are also studying, I will help you with your homework."

"Thanks Toshi, I promise to make it up to you."

While you were studying, everyone introduced themselves, the red-haired Tendou was undoubtedly the opposite of Wakatoshi, which you found funny, plus Goshiki was too adorable but just as intense as your friend, there was a mother here too, Semi, and they even had a sarcastic named Shirabu.

It was a curious group without a doubt. When the team finished their homework they started talking about volleyball, leaving you to concentrate on making derivatives and matrices. You sighed pulling some strands back, you couldn't concentrate so stopped for a while to look at your phone, it had been vibrating for a while, they were just messages from your team, you just left them on read to look at Ushijima who had his eyes on your figure for a few seconds ago.

"Is something wrong Toshi?"

"Yes." the whole team paid attention to their captain "I want a practice match against Seijoh."

Everyone seemed confused —even you— but of course, the others didn't know that you were the manager of the volleyball club, because you had only talked a little and about studies, but you thought that Ushijima wouldn't want to have a practice with your team when they always had won.

"You are their manager, right?"

"Yes, but today they don't have practice."

"Hey, hey, the cute girl also knows about volleyball, now I understand why you like her!"

"I... I don't like (N)." he cleared his throat. "So when could we have a match?"

"Well, if you want I can talk to them now, maybe they don't care."

"It will be good for us to try new things."

"Yes, we will defeat them!"

"Don't get so excited about that bowl boy, it's just a practice game."

Tendou laughed at Shirabu's comment, no doubt Goshiki and he didn't have the best relationship, but it was fun to hear the second year's sarcastic comments while the first year tried to return the comments to no avail.

"Huh? But I like his hair..."

You approached to be able to remove the black locks, noticing how he became rigid as a rock and his face exploded with pink tones, you decided to stop for his health, you would swear you could hear Goshiki's heart about to explode.

"I also want caresses!"

"Hmm if you insist…" you shrugged your shoulders to caress the redhead's head "wow why is your hair so soft?"

"(Nn)!"

Oikawa desperately ran towards you when he saw how you entered the gym together with Shiratorizawa's team —specifically, you were talking animatedly with Semi and Yamagata— quickly grabbing you to take along with your team.

"Are you okay? Have they done something to you? I won't let them kidnap you again."

"They have not kidnapped me, besides they are nice."

"It can't be, surely they are extorting you! Blink if you are in danger." He whimpered moving you from one side to the other, then you blinked but not because of your captain's request "Iwa-chan, they are harassing our pretty (Nn)!"

"Shut up Shittykawa, you need to blink to live, idiot."

"Ow, that hurts Iwa-chan."

You walked away ignoring the small argument between friends, leading the rival team to the locker room so they could change into their sports clothes.

"Hey (N) are they always like this?"

"Yeah, but I guess it's okay, it's funny."

Tendou laughed taking you by the shoulders as you walked back to the court, this action did not go unnoticed in the eyes of the Seijoh boys who glared at the interaction their manager had with the middle blocker, that only made Tendou become more attached to you.

"You could stop irritating the rival team."

Semi looked at how his partner had fun seeing the faces that the others made, rolling his eyes, he went to warm up without wanting to be part of the scene, he wouldn't be part of the redhead's game.

"(N) can you hug me? It sure brings me luck in the match!"

He spread his arms with a catlike smile, narrowing his eyes in amusement at seeing his attentive rivals like owls, causing him to chuckle as he robbed their manager in a thinly veiled manner.

"Sure, why not?"

You shrugged your shoulders without giving it much importance —for you all kinds of hugs were well received— Tendou also took the opportunity to quickly kiss your cheek as a farewell, that's when he completely angered the Aoba Jōsai team, he couldn't hug you as if nothing had happened you were their manager. Unintentionally someone —Kunimi— threw a ball towards the head of a certain blocker, although the ball landed on your head because you were just separating from the hug.

"Oww…" you touched the affected part with a grimace, searching for the culprit, everyone gasped looking at Kunimi, who seemed to want to disappear at that very moment "Kunimi, if you wanted a hug, just tell me."

Bonus

You had insisted on cleaning the gym by yourself for making them train on a day they shouldn't have, they reluctantly agreed, leaving you alone, or so you thought, because a certain imperturbable boy was waiting for you to accompany you home like a true hunk.

"Toshi, I thought you had already left."

He denied watching you keep the key to the place, arms folded, patiently waiting for his friend to finish closing the gym.

"I'll walk you home."

"It wasn't necessary, but thanks."

You two were silent for a few minutes until Ushijima cut it off, looking at you with a certain sparkle in his eyes, he stopped causing you to stop walking as well.

"(N)" you looked at him with a raised eyebrow "I want a hug too."

You laugh internally observing the serious face of your friend to wrap him in a warm hug, he was a big baby.

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xobrattymoonxo · 1 year

Text

Seijoh Six

Tw: Noncon, gangbang, anal, double penetration (same and different hole), creampie, unprotected sex, name calling

Please let me know if I missed anything!

Seijoh six x Fem!reader

Word count: 2.6K

Third Person Pov

It was late at night so she knew she shouldn’t have walked home alone from that frat party semi drunk, especially since the well known gang Seijoh has been going around causing problems in the city. Y/n had a bad feeling when she thought she had caught a glimpse of Hanamaki approaching her at the party, but alas, her friend Yukie abandoned her for a chance to sleep with her own crush. Y/n did try to call an uber but her card declined, so walking was the only option. She didn’t live far from campus, but far enough that it would be a terrifying walk home at almost 3am while intoxicated.

A car pulled up behind her and stopped. Y/n quickened her pace, stumbling a bit. She was sure she was about to die, so she ran. A man got out of the car and began to run behind her. She sped up but due to her being intoxicated she got really dizzy and tripped on a curb. Y/n fell face first onto the sidewalk. Another man got out of the car and ran up to her body, facedown on the sidewalk.

“Shit, make sure she's okay. Boss will be pissed if she’s hurt.” A man spoke from above her.

Another man reached out and picked her up. Y/n had a bloody nose.

“Give me your shirt Maki.” The large man holding her demanded.

“Why mine? You're the one holding her, Matsun.”

“Exactly, I am holding her idiot. Now hurry up before Yahaba gets out of the car.”

“Fine.” Hanamakii groaned.

He pulled his shirt off and gave Matsukawa it. He held it up to Y/n’s nose. Not knowing if she's conscious or not, Matsukawa picked her up and carried her the short way down the street to the car. Matsun tossed her into the back seat with ease. He climbed into the back seat with her as Maki climbed into the passenger seat.

“Let’s get out of here Yahaba.” Matsukawa spoke.

Yahaba stepped on the gas and drove as fast as he could back to headquarters.

Y/n was groaning in the back seat in pain with her possible broken nose. She was in so much pain it ended up making her pass out on the back seat, half in matsuns lap, half falling off the seat.

They arrived rather quickly to Headquarters. It was a huge mansion on the outskirts of Miyagi. It was pretty suspicious but Seijoh ran Miyagi with an iron fist. Maki was the first one out of the car. He opened the passenger door to see Matsukawa holding y/n’s head up.

“Is she even alive?” “Yeah, she’s breathing. Don’t worry. Let’s just get her inside to Oikawa.” Matsukawa said.

“Hurry up! Kyotani is waiting by the door now.” Yahaba said to the two.

Matsun carefully slid out from under Y/n and stepped out of the car. He picked up Y/n and carried her towards the door.

Kyotani stood holding open the door for the three men.

“What’s wrong with her nose, Matsukawa?” Kyotani asked.

“She fell on the sidewalk, she was really drunk when she left the party.”

“Oikawa is going to be pissed.” Kyotani said.

Matsukawa huffed as he walked into the house. He carried her down the stairs to the basement and into a dimly lit room. He placed her on the floor and tied her arms behind her back with the rope that was left there.

“We just have to wake her up now.” A voice spoke from behind him. He turned to see Iwaizumi and Oikawa standing there.

“She may have broken her nose.”

Iwaizumi bent down and looked at her nose.

“Definitely broken.” Iwaizumi said.

“I wanted her unharmed, but I guess a little broken nose is okay.” Oikawa said.

A few more men filled the room. Kyotani passed Oikawa a bucket and a cloth.

“Are you waterboarding her?” Hanamaki asked.

“It will wake her up, won’t it?” He said with a devilish smirk. Iwazumi rolled Y/n on her back and held her shoulders.

Oikawa placed the cloth over her mouth and began to pour water into it.

Y/n tried to jump up and gasp, but Iwaizumi was too strong. She kicked her feet crazy as she felt as if she was drowning. Oikawa had finally run out of water as he and Iwaizumi stood up. Y/n sat up and coughed crazily. She began to back away from the large semi circle of men, fearing what would come next.

“Good morning Sleeping Beauty.” Yahaba said with a laugh.

“What do you want from me?” Y/n asked, fear dripping from her voice.

“I just want you.” Oikawa said as he walked closer. Y/n scrambled to her feet as she looked Oikawa dead in the eyes and kicked him directly in the dick.

“FUCK! YOU LITTLE BITCH THAT HURTS!” He screamed out.

Y/n tried to make a daring run to the door as her shoulder was grabbed. She was quickly tossed down to the ground. She looked up to see Yahaba with a devious smirk on his face.

Oikawa got up and approached Y/n.

“I was going to go easy, but now that I know you like it rough, it's a different story.” Oikawa said,

“Please… just let me go.” Y/n begged.

“No, you’re ours now you little bitch.”

Oikawa bent down and began pulling off Y/n’s jeans. Iwazumi bent down and ripped her shirt in half. She laid in her bra and underwear on the cold cement floor.

“Look how hot and helpless she looks, boys. I’m having a turn first then she’s all yours.”

Oikawa pulled Y/n up and untied the rope. He pulled her shirt remains off and then unclasped her bra. He pushed her back down on the cement floor roughly. It's only ours now.” He said with a maniacal laugh.

“Look at your perfect body, Y/n. I can’t believe it’s all ours now.”

He places her left tit in his mouth as he begins to suck roughly. Oikawa grabs Y/n’s other tit in his right hand. He began to play with the nipple. Y/n moaned out as Oikawa laughed.

“Enjoying yourself?” He said between sucking Y/n’s tit and getting air.

“Common boss! Fuck her already!” Hanamaki shouts.

“Shut the fuck up.” Oikawa spat.

Oikawa reached down and ripped Y/n’s panties in half. He spread her legs open as he pushed between them. He shoved a finger in Y/n’s slightly wet pussy.

“Ahh.” Y/n moaned.

Oikawa smirked to himself as he shoved two more inside. He began to speed up. He curled his fingers inside as he pulled them in and out. Y/n was a moaning mess by this time. Oikawa was quick to bring Y/n to an orgasm, but right before she was about to cum, he pulled his fingers out. He placed them in his mouth as he moaned, tasting the flavor of Y/n’s pussy.

Oikawa pulled away as he began undoing his pants. Y/n began to back away. Oikawa grabbed her ankles and pulled her back towards himself. He lined himself up at her entrance and began to push in.

“Please stop! I don’t want this!” “You were just moaning like a dirty slut and your pussy is dripping.” Oikawa spat.

“No plea- oh MY GOD” She shouted as he fully pushed inside.

Oikawa grabbed Y/n’s hips as he picked up the pace. He wasn’t the thickest but he was indeed large. He was hitting her G spot along with her cervix. She began to moan even louder as he sped up.

He already felt himself getting close as Y/n was so tight and growing tighter by the second as she neared her orgasm as well. He moaned out as he pushed himself in one last time. Y/n felt him twitch inside her.

“Please… not inside.” She begged between breaths.

“I own you, I can do what I want, slut.” He spat in her face.

WIth that she felt hot ropes of cum shooting up into her cervix.His cum sent Y/n’s body in a frenzy, leading her to come undone too. Oikawa rode out their highs before he pulled out.

“So who’s next? Or will it be a group effort?” He asked the 5 men standing behind him.

Matsukawa was the first to move. He looked down at Y/n breathing heavily on the floor.

“I call dibs on her pussy.” He said.

“Matsukawa is hung like a horse, good luck.” Iwaizumi said.

Y/n’s eyes widen as Matsukawa pulls down his pants and boxers. His cock really was hung like a horse. She had no idea how she would even fit that inside her.

“Like what you see, little one?” He said cockily.

He bent down and grabbed your hips, lining himself up at her dripping entrance. She screamed out as he pushed inside her. He was much thicker than Oikawa and much longer. Matsukawa laughed as he continued to push inside her sensitive pussy. She began to cum instantly over his cock due to the size. Hanamaki moaned as she did so. He picked up the pace only pounding into her harder.

“God, she's tight.” He moaned out.

“A perfect doll for us to ruin.” Yahaba laughed.

Kyotani began to grow irritated just watching.

“Move over, I want a turn too.” He said as he pushed Matsukawa.

“Her pussy is mine.” He growled possessively.

“She has a perfectly good asshole that's not being used.”

“Please… no … no more.” Y/n begged between thrusts.

Kyotani got down on the floor and flipped Y/n on her side. Matsukawa continued to relentlessly pound into her. Kyotani spread her ass cheeks as he sucked on two fingers. He forced into her asshole without warming.

“Stop please, it hurts!” Y/n screamed.

“I can prep you or I can go in right away. Your choice.” Kyotani spat.

Y/n said nothing as Kyotani smirked. He forced the other finger in y/n’s tight asshole. She groaned out. Kyotani pulled out only a few seconds after due to his growing impatience. He pulled his cock out of his pants as he lined it up with Y/n’s back entrance. Matsukawa held to a stop and almost pulled all the way out of Y/n’s pussy.

Matsukawa and Kyortani looked at each other as they began to push in at the same time.Y/n screamed out at the pain as she held onto Matsukawa’s shirt. Kyotani began to push harder as he made it all the way inside. The two began to pump in and out slowly as Y/n began to cry from the pain and pleasure she felt.

Kyotani began to pound into y/n’s backside as matsukawa did it from the front. Yahaba approved them as he motioned for Matsukawa to move a bit. Yahaba wiggled his way in and pulled out his cock. He shoved it against Y/n’s mouth, forcing her to open her mouth.

“Use your teeth and I’ll kill you.” Yahaba threatened.

Y/n began to get pounded from all three holes as she cried harder. Matsukawa was now at a level where he was able to shove one of Y/n’s tits in his mouth. He roughly pinched the other one’s nipple until it began to bleed from how rough he was being. The one in his mouth was the same. He felt her crimson liquid on his tongue but that didn’t stop him. Yahaba continuously hit her broken nose as she was screaming out in pain. Yahaba felt her vibration from her mixed moans and screams and went faster.

“Fuck you feel so good.” Yahaba said.

“Probably would be better without your ass in my face.” Matsukawa spoke up.

“I’ll be quick.” Yahaba said back.

“Fuck shes so tight.” Kyotani groaned.

Yahaba was true to his words and was quick to spill his hot load down Y/n’s throat.Y/n felt herself grow closer as her two holes got tighter around the men. Matsukawa finally stopped with her bleeding nipples as he and kyotani looked at each other and nodded. They came in unison with each other, stuffing y/n’s hole full of cum while her orgasm hit. Y/n thought Matsukawa’s would never stop. The two pulled out at the same time, trying to keep their cum inside her.

“That felt amazing.” Matsukawa said huffing and puffing.

“Hurry up guys, I want a turn.” Hanamaki whined.

“She’s all yours.” Matsukawa motioned to her body laying on the floor panting.

“I want her pussy!” Hanamaki shouted excitedly.

“After Matsun? You’re brave.” Iwaizumi said.

“You gonna take her ass?” Matsukawa asked.

“Yes, I can’t wait to feel how tight the bitch is.” Iwaizumi said.

Iwaizumi walked over to Y/n. Her nose was bleeding and swollen again, her nipples dripping with blood and her holes leaking cum. She looked absolutely destroyed and he loved it. He couldn’t wait to destroy her asshole even more.

Iwaizumi slid his pants down as he lined himself up at her back entrance.

“Please.. I can’t take it anymore.” Y/n said just above a whisper.

“Oh I think you are capable of more. Actually Maki, I have something for us to try.” Oikawa said with an evil grin.

Hanamaki and Oikawa walked up to Y/n’s body and bent down close to her.

“Iwai, put her in your lap.” He does as he's told. “Now you guys go in first, then I go in, with Maki.”

“NO PLEASE!” Y/n tried to throw herself off iwazumi’s lap.

Iwaizumi wrapped his arms around her waist holding her on his lap, cock poking her asshole still. During the struggle fight, Iwaixumi somehow managed to slip inside her asshole. She froze up as crazy amounts of pleasure washed over her. This allowed Hanamkai to slip inside as well.

“Jesus Matsun! It's like a sticky pool in her!”

“Let me see.” Oikawa said as he began to force himself inside.

“Please! Please no!” Y/n cried.

Oikawa just laughed as he finally forced the tip inside. After he got the tip in he was quick to force the rest of himself inside next to Hanamaki.Y/n moaned out yet again as an orgasm washed over her body, squeezing them all tightly.

“Fuck” They all moaned in sync.

Y/n began crying again as Iwaizumi began to bounce her up and down on his cock.Oikawa and hanamaki began to move in unison as well.

“He does have a point, Horse cock. There's a lot of cum inside her right now.” Oikawa said as he felt her sticky walls half around him.

Then three began to thrust together inside her as she sobbed and came repetitively.

“The way this bitch is grasping me, I’ll cum sooner than I thought.” Iwaizumi muttered.

“Fuck same.” Hanamaki said.

The three didn’t get much further when another orgasm came over y/n, causing Hanamaki to spill his seed first. Close after Oikawa was cumming undone inside her pussy once again.

Both men pulled out as Iwaizumi kept going. His bounces became more erratic as cum spilled out from her pussy.

Iwazumi felt himself start twitching as he pulled her down on his cock for one final thrust, spilling his own load in her asshole next to Kyotani’s. She surprised everyone by squirting all over the floor in front of her.

“Wow the bitch has got powers.” Hanamaki said.

Iwaizumi pulled out as he placed her back down on the floor. He stands up and pulls his pants back up.

The six men now all standing close by the door as Hanamaki Unlocks it.

Before the door shuts Y/n hears one final thing,

“Tell Kindaichi, Kunimi and Watari she's ready for them now.”

Taglist open !!

#tw noncon #yandere haikyuu #haikyuu noncon #haikyuu dark content #tw dark fic #tw dark content #haikyuu smut

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