mattsumaki

[mattsumaki]

join me in the update corner :)

[ tl;dr : i’m alive, i am writing, tumblr just doesn’t like me right now. i’m going to try and be more active, hope i actually do so and that tumblr lets me out of shadowban jail, it’s very cold and lonely here ]

hi, hello, mattsumaki here, how are ya? yes, i am still alive and on tumblr. i didn’t deactivate or delete the app, just been caught up in some not so fun personal shit. normally, i would…expand on that, but i simply do not have the energy to share. i am okay enough and i am going to leave that there

as for my absence, aside from not being on tumblr like at all, is i got shadowbanned. at least that’s my best guess. no clue how; for all i know, it could be because of the aforementioned lack of interaction on my end on tumblr for the past few months. or maybe not, maybe it’s something else entirely, i literally have no other idea or guess

this as one can assume is a just a little bit, just a teensy bit of a problem. because…i am writing, i am making content for all you lovelies. but. when i try to share said content, tumblr takes it, looks at it, looks at me, looks at it again, and says ‘mmmmmmmmm no’. and that no means that none of you lovelies really get to see it

now, i have posted new fics recently, fics of which i’m very happy and proud of and like and want you guys to see and hopefully like as well. but since tumblr isn’t really showing you guys those fics or telling you i posted, then they don’t get seen. and that honestly sucks because i put a lot of time and effort into them, and i want to give you guys the content you followed for

to try and counteract this or like lift the shadowban, i’m going to do my best to be more active on here and pray to all higher and lower beings that it helps it get lifted (and also look up what i can do in case that doesn’t work). if anyone has any tips or advice, that’d also be amazing and greatly appreciated cause this has never happened to me, please help :’)

anyway, i’m not sure if any of this made a lick of sense, i can be bad at explaining and worse at rambling. i love and miss all of you, mwah, a little forehead kiss for each of you, and i hope this fixes itself

#「 ☾ 」 — c.talking #「 ☾ 」 — c.announcing #i know these updates and big rambly posts don’t do the best #but i’ve wanted to talk about this cause it’s bothering me #i may touch more on this later or i may not #probably post screenshots of pieces of fics #and reblog my stuff #and…yey :p

[mattsumaki]

tags : gn!reader, fluff, suggestive af, (platonic to) romantic relationship (?), graphic opening, mentions of alcohol / drinking & blood, cursing, edited repost, 2.0k, inspired by & dedicated to the lovely @torhues ♡

a shrill scream echoes through the living room followed by the quick flash of a knife. it drives through the woman’s chest, then rips back out. a spray of dark red blood splashes over the wall in a dramatic arch. she stares up at the masked figure posed above her as more dribbles from her lips and blooms through her shirt.

“oh, come on! that was way too easy, she could have ran.” you glare at the tv through narrowed eyes as the killer continues stabbing into her stomach, the sound wet and enough to make nausea twist in your gut.

iwaizumi smirks around his bottle of beer as he takes a long drink. “i told you she would die first.” the point of his elbow nudges at your side, “you owe me ten bucks.” you scoff and roll your eyes.

every saturday of every month, you and your group of old friends gather at one of your places to watch a movie. it’s been a set tradition since back in your school days, and you’ve all done your best to keep it going. this particular movie night, you're down to just you and iwaizumi; the others — hanamaki, matsukawa, and oikawa — had promised to come, but canceled at the last minute due to unspecified reasons.

tonight’s current pick is some generic horror movie you couldn’t be bothered to remember the name of; the movie itself proved to be just as forgettable. you tried to spice it up with beer and betting on who you thought would die first, but it hardly helped.

“yeah, yeah.” you slouch into the couch with a frustrated grumble, nose scrunched up and arms thrown in your lap. “hardly feel fair. you knew she was gonna die.”

“so did you, but you didn’t bet on her. that’s on you, sore loser.”

you send him an annoyed glare out the corner of your eye. he returns a half-hearted scowl before turning his eyes back to the tv. sitting up a little straighter again, you grab the throw pillow beside you and hug it close to your chest. “still not fair.”

the movie continues on without much interruption, save for a few jests tossed out here and there when you find something stupid or comical. you do your best to stay invested, but it quickly proves to be utterly useless. bad movies are only as good as the jokes you can make about them. this one feels like you’re beating the skeleton of the dead horse it once was.

compared to you, iwaizumi looks far more interested than you can pretend to be. setting aside the pillow, you scoot a little closer and drop your head on his shoulder. “i’m bored.”

he doesn’t say anything.

you poke at his thigh and he hums in acknowledgement.

“i said i’m bored.”

without looking away from the tv, he mutters back, “it’s almost over, i’m sure you can survive for a little longer.”

he ignores the annoyed scoff you huff at his response. for a split second, you consider sending back a snappier retort. before you can string something together, the thought screeches to a halt as another one pops in your head.

blame it on the alcohol beginning to set in, or your love of picking on iwaizumi, or even pure curiosity alone. whatever the reason, you find yourself gradually leaning closer into his space little by little, like you're giving him the chance to push you away at any moment. he doesn't; he almost seems to gravitate towards you. your lips brush along the skin of his neck and he sucks in a sharp breath. the subtle reaction draws a smile from you, one he doesn't have to see to know it's there.

again, your lips graze his neck, but this time you add a light nip right above it before pulling back. another pause in the air, another chance for him to stop you that he lets slip by. further testing the limit, you cup the side of his neck and pull him closer to you. unlike before, you don’t draw away. rather, your lips trail up the column of his throat, teeth biting here and there to keep his attention.

iwaizumi can feel the heat pooling in his cheeks and running down his chest. for something so simple to have such a strong effect on him would be embarrassing if it didn’t feel so good. the hand on your hip squeezes timidly before sneaking under your shirt to run across your lower back.

you gulp back the sudden knot in your throat as your focus temporarily drifts to how warm his hand feels on your bare skin. before you can dwell on it for long, iwaizumi grunts beside you, an impatient sound at the back of his throat. a short laugh escapes you. you place a kiss to the space beneath his ear, then a row following the curve of his jaw.

his hand moves to hook a finger through one of the loops of your jeans. he gives it a tug, a wordless request for you to climb into his lap, and you gladly take it. the cushions dip then puff back up as you situate yourself on top of his thighs, knees pushing into the back of the couch. the new position has you face to face, noses brushing. his hands idle by your waist, unsure of where to be or what to do. you both appear to hold the same question, eyes searching the others for the possible answer.

you’ve gone too far to turn back now, not that either of you are even thinking about doing so. and yet your boldness seems to have watered down to nervousness.

“can i kiss you?” iwaizumi suddenly blurts out a little too loudly.

your first reaction is to laugh, and he immediately regrets asking. but then you’re cupping his face in your hands and pressing your lips to his. and he can taste the alcohol on your tongue, bitter yet the littlest bit sweet from your raspberry chapstick. and all he wants to do is kiss is keep kissing you, over and over.

it’s instant, the way you lose yourselves in the moment. the temperature in the room seems to spike higher and higher. there’s an electric excitement in the air around you and in the way you explore one another; hands grabbing and roaming, breaths short and hot, kisses feverish and messy.

his teeth pinch down hard on your lower lip and you gasp into his mouth. he mumbles a quick “sorry” as the tip of his tongue licks over the spot. you mumble back something that sounds faintly like “it’s okay”, but it gets lost amidst the hushed moans and timid grunts.

your mouth is at his neck again, his head tipped back to fully bare his throat to you. shy curses dribble out in an unintelligible mess. you work a collage of bruises into his skin, some tucked away out of sight while others would prove to be much more difficult to hide. a particularly hard bite at the juncture of his shoulder sends a shock down his back.

his fingers dig into the backs of your thighs. “fuck, watch the teeth.”

ignoring his words, you leave another mark just high enough above the collar of his shirt. you run your tongue over the fresh indentations with a sense of pride. the action elicits a low restrained groan from deep in his chest, and something new stirs deep in your gut, something that isn’t from the alcohol.

“hey,” he chokes slightly on the word. “i said watch the teeth, you brat. unless you want me marking you just as hard.”

sitting back a bit, you take a moment to admire your work; his skin now blooms with shades of purples and blues alongside the light tint of red. then your eyes flicker to challenge his gaze. a playful smirk dances across your features as you tilt your head to the side. “please do. i bet i could handle it better than you, haji.”

the rough material of the couch cushions scratch irritably at the bare skin of your back with every small arch and shift you make. it would bother you more if your mind wasn’t preoccupied with the feeling of iwaizumi’s teeth scraping across your skin. each new spot his lips brush burns in the best way possible.

his body hovers overs yours, the bulk of his weight supported on his forearms caged by either side of your head. your legs are circled around his waist, ankles locked at his lower back to keep his hips pressed close to yours. your shirts have been long forgotten somewhere on the living room floor.

one of your hands caresses up the expanse of his back, nails tracing the muscles flexing beneath the skin. “hajime,” you mumble his name to yourself like a secret.

he hums absentmindedly as he finishes working a hickey into the dip of your shoulder. you catch a glimpse of the smile teasing at his lips before they lazily move against yours.

“i love how you say my name.” he mouths a slow line down the column of your marked throat to your chest. “say it again for me.”

the gentle nip at your collarbone startles a quivering gasp escapes from your lungs. you swallow thickly in a poor attempt to unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth. the light trace of his fingertips along your thighs does nothing to help. before you can sort through your swimming thoughts, a surprise knock at the door has you both tensing in place.

iwaizumi’s head snaps up so fast you worry for a split second he may pull something. from underneath him, you tip your head back best you can to see over the armrest.

“who the hell?”

your question is quickly answered as the front door flings open. oikawa and hanamaki take a step inside a second later, matsukawa in tow close behind. their heads are turned toward one another as they talk about who cares what. you’d listen more closely if you weren't in such a desperate state of panic.

quick to take advantage of their combined obliviousness, you scramble for something to cover yourself other than iwaizumi’s large frame above you. if only you hadn’t hastily tossed your shirts so far out of reach. at the sound of barely whispered bickering, oikawa’s attention creeps towards your direction, hanamaki and matsukawa not far behind.

a small throw pillow is shoved between you just as the group looks over. it barely does anything to hide the abundant hickies, but it’s worth the thought. all it takes is one small glance passed around the five of you, a split second to take everything in, for the realization to settle.

hanamaki is the first to break as his cheeks puff out with sputtered laughter. he poorly hides his shock behind the back of his hand, doubling over at the waist as more stifled wheezes escape him. oikawa stares with his jaw hanging slack and a slow blush spreading from his cheeks to his ears. matsukawa is the least outwardly affected as he peers down at the two of you with his typical bored expression.

“so. this is what you two do when we’re not around, huh?” he teasingly pokes. hanamaki cackles beside him. oikawa is still notably quiet, though you don’t miss the slight quirk of his lips that disappears as fast as it happened.

“out.” iwaizumi practically growls the word, wide eyes boring into the three.

“aw, come on,” hanamaki gasps between laughs. “don’t let us interrupt you guys.”

snagging the other throw pillow that had fallen to the floor, iwaizumi raises his arm high above his head and chucks it in their direction.”get out already!” they’re quick to scurry back out the door, but not without one last sing-song shout from oikawa.

“if you’re gonna make love, don’t forget to wear a glove.”

© mattsumaki. do not translate, repost, or redistribute in any way on any platform.

#「 ☾ 」 — c.reblogged #i still think about this just as much as suna’s halloween fic #this single handely changed my life for the worse /pos #i am putting this man in my mouth and keeping him there #take that in whatever you want there are no wrong answers here

[mattsumaki]

sugar r u shadowbanned or smn :(

i think so, or fuckin’ somethin’. i’m not seein you on dash or gettin’ much interaction despite all my queued stuff

#「 ☾ 」 — c.talking #「 ☾ 」 — caelin.encrypted #tw cursing #i don’t know what’s goin’ on with tumblr but it ain’t like me much #i haven’t even been that active on here #like at all #but — like i just said — i’m not gettin’ any interaction #might i add despite having like a week or so worth of queued posts #i’m not seein’ you or much anyone else on dash #and again might i add despite following not that many people #it’s…weird #(i miss ya sugar bee :( )

[mattsumaki]

what went wrong? some things aren’t meant to last.

tags : gn!reader, angst, complicated relationship, implied break up at end, no comfort only pain, 2.0k words

the faint drip…drip…drip of water from the kitchen sink chips at the silence suffocating terushima’s apartment. it’s been leaking for more over a week now, maybe even longer, he’s not fully sure. he stopped caring after his brain tuned out the sound into the background.

at best, one of the handles needs to be properly pushed back in place. at worst, he needs to call a plumber. either way, he can’t be bothered to fix it. he can’t be bothered to do much of anything. he knows he should; it’s not good nor healthy to wallow in an endless slump. getting up and moving could help get him out of it; something like going to practice, starting on the chores he’s been neglecting, or even just showering after so long.

but he doesn’t. curled up on the couch, curtains drawn to keep out the sun, terushima stares at the adjacent wall. he’s not really sure he’s even actually looking, his eyes are focused but his head is off somewhere else. it’s been like that since you left.

everything has been this way since you left. unattended, ignored, depressed.

the potted succulent on the windowsill has nearly shriveled up with thirst for some water and sunlight. you loved that little plant so much, you had the biggest smile when you picked it up from the store. it had been an impulsive purchase, you had a list to follow and it hadn’t been on it, but you grabbed it anyway. you thought it looked cute and made up some excuse how it’d help your new shared apartment feel more like a home.

you gave it some silly name, like jerry or rosaline, and he teased you for it because plants don’t need names, but he went along with it. it made you happy, and he loved when you were happy.

sometimes he wonders if you miss it, the succulent. when you came to pack up yourself from your — his apartment, you skipped over it. not that it really mattered; you missed other things, too, stuff more significant than some plant. you had been in such a hurry, like being in the apartment — being around him — was the worst possible place to be.

he hadn’t kept it as tidy as you did when you lived together. though, looking back, the apartment looks far worse now than it probably ever has even before you moved in with him. that isn’t to say he didn’t try at first. but slowly, over time, he couldn’t seem to find the motivation or energy. dishes piled up in the sink, papers were tossed carelessly on the table, crumbs sprinkled the floor.

the apartment became as much of a mess as him.

he hates it. the mess, the quiet drip in the kitchen, the strong throb in his chest. he hates all of it.

a bright chime pulls terushima’s eyes from the wall. his gaze falls to the coffee table where his phone sits on the end, screen facing down. for a moment, a glimmer of hope stirs as he reaches out to grab it. maybe you finally sent him a text; wishful thinking, he knows, but one can hope. tucking his arm back to his stomach, he squints down at the screen and checks the notification.

it’s not from you, but rather one of his friends asking if he’ll be joining everyone for a night out drinking. and for a moment, his heart sinks low. he knows it was stupid to entertain the thought of you reaching out; you’ve been radio silent since you walked out that night. not a call, text, nothing. you had nothing left to say to him.

his phone chimes again as his friend pushes for a confirmation. he hasn’t gone out for a while now, another part of his every day he couldn’t bother to keep up with. a minute passes and another text pings from his phone. sighing quietly through his nose, he types up a response, a faux apology about how he’s not feeling well, but hey, maybe next time.

it’s a lie, an overused yet accepted one.

the phone falls to the couch alongside his hand and terushima shuts his eyes. it’s truly amazing how tired the human body can be even after sleeping through more than half the day. with how much sleep he’s gotten in the past week, he should be wide-eyed and energized. if only.

as he loses himself further down in the warm black behind his eyes, he’s startles awake with a gasp at the ring of the doorbell. the sound draws his head back to glance at the door, but he makes no movements to stand and answer. there hasn’t been a visitor to your — his apartment in weeks now. and it certainly can’t be you, deeply as he wishes to entertain the thought.

it’s probably just his mind playing tricks on him. at least, it would be, if the doorbell didn’t ring again and a familiar voice spoke muffled behind the door.

“hello? is someone home?”

his mind must really be messing with him right now, that can’t be your voice he heard.

“hello?” you try again, your knuckles tapping firmly against the door. “terushima, please.”

the motivation he has been hoping for since forever finally strikes him like a bolt of lightning shooting through his system. scrambling to his feet, he nearly falls off the couch before catching himself. he bangs his knee into the corner of the coffee table on the way to the door and hisses out a sharp curse.

hobbling forward on one foot, he balances himself with a hand on the wall as the other attempts to soothe the throbbing ache. stretching out his leg, he rushedly brushes his fingers through his hair and smoothes down the wrinkles in his shirt. the metal feels cold against his sweaty palm as he pulls open the front door.

you come into view all at once and he can’t stop the awestruck expression that fills up his face. it’s you – actually, really you in front of him. you’re back.

“hello, terushima.” your voice is flat, almost distant.

he doesn’t fully register the formal use of his last name. “hey, you uh…” he clears his voice, then tries again. “what brings you by?”

“i'm here to pick up some things i left at your place.”

your place, not ours. the small detail makes his heart squeeze tightly inside his chest.

truthfully, a part of him had hoped you had forgotten about the few remaining things you left behind; they’re the only tangible pieces he has left of you. before he can linger too long on the creeping reminiscing feeling, your voice snatches him back.

“can i come in?”

“hm? oh, right, um…” he awkwardly shuffles to the side and vaguely gestures for you to come in. nodding curtly, you step past him inside and shuts the door. he catches a small whiff of your shampoo as you pass, and he has to stop that smile that teases at the corners of his mouth.

you linger frozen by the couch as your gaze sweeps over the space. the apartment has hardly changed since the last day you lived together. the ugly mug you made on a pottery date sits on a coaster on the coffee table; your favorite hoodie of his to steal is thrown over the back of the sofa where you left it; a vase of flowers he gifted you on your anniversary wilts on the windowsill in the kitchen.

a feeling akin to nostalgia flutters up from the bottom of your heart, but you’re quick to shove it back down. you’re here for one reason, and one reason only.

glancing over your shoulder, you find terushima’s eyes already on you. the feeling resurfaces again, weaker this time. you blink and turn your head away. “i’ll start in the bedroom, if that’s alright.”

he shakes his head as if to pull himself out of a daze. “uh, yeah, that’s um…that’s fine.” he watches your back turn to him as you walk to the bedroom. you make it only a few steps before his hand is darting out and he’s grabbing your arm to stop you where you stand. “wait!”

you half a better mind to not hear out whatever it is he has to say. and yet, you don’t shake him off or shut him down.

he anxiously clenches and unclenches his hands a few times. he hadn’t really been thinking when he stopped you; hell, he doesn’t truly know why he did, it was as if his body moved on its own accord. and now, with your eyes pinned on him, quiet and waiting, he feels he has to say something — anything.

“i…that night, when we…i didn’t.” he breathes harshly out of his nose in frustration. “i’m sorry. for everything. i’m sorry for seeing what was wrong and ignoring it anyway. for messing this up, for not being there when i should have been. it’s my fault things ended the way they did.”

your gaze casts down to the floor and the muscles in your jaw tighten. sweat pricks at the skin of his palms. he licks his lips and continues with new urgency.

“but if you give me another chance, i swear i can—”

“are you fucking serious right now?” the edge to your voice makes him flinch back as if you had slapped him across the face. you pull your eyes back up to bore into his. “do you have any clue how many chances we went through, terushima? any clue at all?”

“i do,” he stutters. “and i really am sorry—”

“no. no, we are not doing this. you had your chance that night to say what you wanted to.” yanking your arm from his hold, you spin around and stride to the bedroom. he follows fast behind, footsteps heavy as they hit the ground behind you.

you move around quick, flinging open drawers and carelessly pushing stuff out of your way as you grab what you’re looking for. he watches from the doorway and you can feel his eyes track you back and forth.

“can we please talk?”

“you wanna talk?” in the blink of an eye, you stood less than an arms length away from him. there’s a scalding fire in your eyes that has him gulping back the dryness in his throat. “let’s talk. where do you wanna start, hm?”

he opens his mouth, but nothing comes out no matter how hard he tries to find something to say. it all feels so painfully familiar, like a reopened wound sore to the smallest of touch. this wasn’t how he wanted seeing you again to go.

“hm?” you raise your eyebrows at him in question, but he still can’t find the words. a tense minute crawls by and still nothing. the fire raging in your eyes tempers down to the calm flicker of a candle. you almost seem disappointed in his silence.

and a part of him can’t blame you; he’s disappointed in himself. he hurt you despite promising a thousand times over he never would. nothing pained him more than seeing you like this, and just as he had done those countless times before, he hurt you all over again.

the whispered rasp of your voice draws him away from the spiral of his head. “i love you, yūji. with my whole heart and more, i love you. but i can’t keep doing this. i can’t keep breaking.” the tips of your fingers skate over the curve of his cheeks as you cup his face. he leans into your touch, his forehead pressing to yours. tears gather around his lashes and sting at his eyes, but he doesn’t bother to blink them away.

“you have to let us go.”

a tear escapes and rolls down to catch on your thumb. as you go to brush it away, he reaches up and presses his hands over top of yours. you don’t pull away when he squeezes them tight, or when he turns to brush a kiss into your palms. you let him savor the warmth, the gentleness, the feeling, every last detail. he commits it all to memory. he’ll never get to have this — this moment in time — ever again. and terushima can’t fathom forgetting what it was like to be with you.

© mattsumaki. do not translate, repost, or redistribute in any way on any platform.

#「 ☾ 」 — c.reblogged

[mattsumaki]

is this really it? there’s sill so much to say.

tags : gn!reader, angst, complicated relationship, break up, 0.5k words

four and a half months. that’s how long it’s been since you and terushima broke up. it simultaneously feels so much longer yet so much sooner, like time crawled by while also flying past.

a fight, that’s all had taken; he can’t quite remember what had sparked the match to spark the fire, but whatever it had been was enough to consume you in flames and leave you scarred.

every relationship has its ups and down, its disputes and resolves, yours wasn’t exempt from that simple fact. but you always managed to make it work. that was something he loved about you; your seemingly bottomless forgiveness and patience. he would be the first to admit he could be rather good at testing its limits — never on purpose, of course.

you would give him chance after chance, something he was never really allowed in his many past relationships. another way you were different, another thing he loved about you. and maybe in some small unintentional way, he became greedy with your chances overtime, he took one too many and didn’t take the time to appreciate them for what they were.

he never meant for it to end the way it did. if he were to be fully honest, he never wanted it to end. the mere thought of losing you made his heart ache in a painfully familiar way. that same ache ripped through his chest and made a home behind his ribs.

if he were to reflect back on your past fights, that one would have to be the ugliest above them all. it felt different then the others, like it had been building up since the beginning. and in some way it did.

it had started as a small cut, a mere scratch you ignored and slapped a band-aid over.

but, with each passing week leading up, every minor poke and push at one another, an ugly infection began to grow deep inside. little by little, it worsened, blistering and scabbing whenever you would scratch at it. you could only pick at it for so long before the pain became too much.

“i don’t think i can do this anymore, yūji.” the tone of your voice had been so soft, apologetic even; not about any one thing in particular, but almost everything.

you couldn’t look him in the eye when you said it, like it hurt you to see the pain on his face just as much as it hurt him to hear those words. and it did, he knows it did because he knows you, but people do stupid things when they’re hurt.

he snapped back, something far harsher than he meant it to be. it was enough to make you look at him, and he saw his feelings reflected in your eyes. then everything you had built over the past years fell apart. it all happened so fast; screaming until your chests hurt, invading the other’s space as you fought for the final word, a finalizing “we’re done” as the door slammed shut behind you.

and that was it.

you were over.

© mattsumaki. do not translate, repost, or redistribute in any way on any platform.

#「 ☾ 」 — c.reblogged

[mattsumaki]

tags : gn!reader, fluff, domestic, romantic relationship, edited repost, 0.8k words

bzzz…bzzz…bzzz…bzzz.

your phone shakes on the edge of the nightstand, alarm noisily ringing out to wake you up. aizawa grumbles into his pillow with discontent, brows pushing together as he fights hard to ignore the disruption. normally, you would snooze it almost immediately, but a minute passes and it continues to scream.

“shut that damn thing off, will you?”

no response.

“hey,” he tries again, a bit more heft behind his voice.

still no response.

rolling onto his back, he blindly tosses an arm over you, only to grab at empty space. confused, his eyes open to check that you are, in fact, missing from bed. he should have noticed the lack of body heat pressed up against him and arms clinging to his middle sooner; he could never seem to get you off of him when he had to leave early in the morning.

but today isn’t a school or hero work day; it's a saturday, one of his few blessed days away from it all where he can spend his time doing whatever he wants. and yet the one person he wants to spend his day off with is notably absent.

he leans over your side and snatches your phone, thumb shutting off the alarm for some peace. his free hand scrubs at his tired eyes, nails scratching at the light stubble peppering his jaw in a five o’clock shadow. the blanket slides down around his waist, leaving his chest exposed to the cool morning air and warm golden sun.

balancing on the backs of his forearms, aizawa pushes off his hands to sit upright. he mumbles a low grunt as his arms extend high above his head to relieve the tiredness clinging to the muscles. craning his head left and right, he searches the room for you only to come up empty handed.

where could you have disappeared to?

the floorboards are cool beneath his bare feet as he shuffles his way out of the bedroom and down the hallway. the closer he nears the kitchen, the stronger the rich scent of freshly brewing coffee and buttered toast fills his senses. turning the corner, he finds you standing in front of the stove, spatula in hand and weight leaned on one hip.

so this is where you’ve gone; he should have guessed.

your hair is damp, most likely from a warm morning shower, tiny droplets dripping onto the old gray t-shirt of his you most definitely stole from his closet when he wasn’t looking. soft sunlight glows on your skin through the window above the sink. the sound of sizzling food and the low purr of the coffee machine murmurs in the air.

footsteps softly thudding against the floor, aizawa drags himself up close behind you, his arms lazily looping around your stomach. he squeezes you into him as his head ducks into the curve of your shoulder.

“morning, sleepyhead.” you lift a hand to run through his dark hair, earning a content hum from deep in his chest that vibrates against your back. “sleep well?”

“i was before a certain someone decided they no longer wanted to without telling me.”

a light chuckle shakes your breath and shoulders. “i’m sorry, handsome. at least you had my alarm for some nice company.”

his head lifts from its hiding spot to send a sharp, unamused glare your direction. your chuckle bubbles into full belly laughter, head tipping back against him. cupping his cheek, you lean in to press an apologetic kiss to his jaw, then another to his lips. he steals a few more before letting you turn away, a laughing smile skipping across your features.

“so,” you start, pushing the spatula under a piece of toast to flip it over, “what do you think we should do today? aside from sleeping in some more.”

his laugh is low in your ear, the scratch of stubble on the temple rough yet comforting. the hands on your hips tease their way up beneath your shirt, his fingers tracing the skin over your ribs. you gasp softly at the rush of cool air, a sharp contrast to the heat of his touch.

“bold of you to assume we would only be sleeping.” an elbow to his stomach makes him chuckle and his arms wrap tighter around you. “‘m only messing with ya. what sounds nice to you?”

you let the crackle of bread toasting in the pan and the faint whisper of breath from aizawa fill the silence as you ponder on his question.

“i think,” you draw at the word as you find the rest of the sentence, “staying in for the day actually sounds quite nice. that way i can have you,” your free hand slides up his forearm to grab the hand resting below your chest, fingers sliding into the spaces between his, “all to myself.”

he hums in agreement as his head drops back to its original spot at the curve of your neck. his lips caress the slope of your shoulder to the space beneath your jaw, his breath hot on your skin with his words. “then a day inside with you it is.”

© mattsumaki — do not translate, repost, modify, plagiarize, or redistribute in any way on any platform

#「 ☾ 」 — c.reblogged #you’re favorite *mwah*

[mattsumaki]

tags : gn!reader, fluff, romantic relationship, cursing, “pet names” (brat), 0.9k words

you’re sitting up against the headboard painting your nails when dabi comes walking through the bedroom doorway. a brief glance is shared between the two of you, acknowledging the other's presence.

you cock your head with a faint smile. “hey, intruder. i didn’t hear you come in.”

he simply grunts back, like forming words–let alone a sentence–is too much work. a brat, as usual, not that you’d expect anything less from your boyfriend.

letting his jacket slide off his shoulders and onto the floor in a heap, he silently walks around to the side of your bed and, without warning, flops down on his back. the sudden impact makes your sharply jostle back and forth, nail polish streaking across your skin.

“what the hell, dabi?” you snap angrily. the man in question lazily hums back another wordless response, eyebrows raised in question as if he doesn’t know he’s the exact reason behind your sudden outburst. you push his head with a roll of your eyes. “you’re such an ass.”

that pulls a light chuckle out of him, one side of his mouth curving into a half grin. the anger in your chest dissipates at the sound. dabi drops his head to the side, blue eyes studying your concentrated expression; brows drawn close together, teeth digging softly into your bottom lip, eyes fixated on the hand laid still on your leg. “what are you doing?”

“he speaks,” you tease and earn a light smack to the calf in retaliation. “my nails. i can do yours, if ya want.”

he blinks once, then twice. “what?”

“your nails.” leaning over, you re dip the brush and apply another coat to your thumb. “i don’t have a lot, but you can pick whatever color.”

he’s silent for a long moment. you can feel his gaze shift between your face and hand as he silently contemplates your offer. before you can think to take it back, he jumps in, “sure, why not.”

the look you give him is nothing short of surprised glee, eyes glinting and lips smiling wide, and a small part of him already regrets his decision. too late to go back on it now. as you gather the bottles of nail polish, he settles himself comfortably between your legs. the back of his head sits comfortably on your stomach, calloused hands warm where they find their places on your thighs.

“alright, we have…,” you roll the bottles around in your hands as you list off the colors. “midnight black, sapphire blue, lilac purple, and sunflower yellow. whatcha feeling?”

he pretends to think seriously about the question, going so far as to pensively tap his chin with a deep hum thrumming in his throat. fingers threading into his dark hair, you give his head a playful shake with a clenched growl. a breathy laugh escapes him.

“black. i don’t trust you with anything else.”

you lean down close enough to his face for the tip of his nose to graze your forehead. he doesn’t so much as flinch. “and here i thought you loved me.”

“do you wanna paint ‘em or not?”

he doesn’t have to ask twice; there’s no way in hell you’re giving up this golden opportunity, though not without throwing in the last word under your breath of course. “you never let me have any fun.”

unscrewing the cap off the black nail polish, you straighten and grab one of his hands from your thighs and push it higher up to your knee before starting. curious as when he had studied you do yours, dabi watches you slowly paint streaks of black across his nails.

the room falls still, the only sound the warm, rhythmic breaths that pass your lips and muffle into his hair. he’s careful to not shift around harsh enough to mess you up, but just enough to mildly annoy you. each time, you give his arm a pinch and chide a soft “stop it” that falls on deaf ears. what kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn’t cause at least the minimal amount of chaos?

it doesn’t take you terribly long to finish the left hand, and he notices how the result is rather neat and clean. you drop the small bottle beside your hip, then bring his hand to your face and gently blow on his nails. his eyes peer up through his lashes to watch, gaze transfixed on the pout of your lips.

you notice, of course, not that he’s really trying to hide it. “you’re staring.”

“no, i wasn’t,” he scoffs, making you giggle ‘mhm’ into his hair as you start the other hand.

he doesn’t quite know how much time passes, not that he was trying to keep count at any point, but by the time you finish, his muscles feel in need of a good stretch. you do just so yourself, arms rising high above your head and face scrunching up with a satisfied groan. he takes the chance to admire his new, shiny black nails.

“so,” cozying back against the headboard, you tilt your head at your boyfriend. “whatcha think?”

“they’re nice.” his voice almost seems to fall flat, lacking any real enthusiasm on the surface, but you know it’s there.

“i’m glad you like them. maybe next time you can try something more…colorful.” you point a not so subtle ‘hint hint’ look in his direction for a long second before your eyes dart up towards the ceiling. “like blue or silver or something.”

there’s no response on his end. instead, he flips over onto his stomach, arms curling up around your sides and his full weight falls pressing down on top of you. your hands subconsciously begin to card through his hair and gently rub his back.

“...that wasn’t a no.”

“it also wasn’t a yes.”

“still isn’t a direct no.”

he doesn’t bother to lift his head, rather closes his eyes in favor of hiding deeper into your stomach. “shut up and cuddle me, brat.”

© mattsumaki — do not translate, repost, modify, plagiarize, or redistribute in any way on any platform

#「 ☾ 」 — c.reblogged #i love reading / looking through this one and then reading / looking through the original #because they are similar but also so different #it’s like when artists redraw something from a few years ago #i can visibly see my growth and progress just from this one fic alone #and it’s amazing

[mattsumaki]

tags : gn!reader, fluff, little suggestive, unspecified relationship, mentions of alcohol / drinking, small descriptions of (fake) blood, 0.5k words

okay, but hear me out: suna dressing up as a vampire for halloween. and i’m not talking the cheap classic bram stoker’s kind of vampire — though knowing him, he one hundred percent would when he’s feeling lazy or unmotivated.

no, i am talking about more like the hot but creepy kind of vampire. black clothes head to toe, maybe some smokey dark eyeshadow around his eyes to give that like tired dead look. oh, and, how could he forget the fake blood. and he doesn’t go light on, oh no, it's messy and all over his chin and halfway down his neck. if you hadn’t seen him (and suggested) mix together some corn syrup and red food dye, a tiny part of you may have thought he actually hurt himself — or, worse, someone.

if suna dressing as a vampire isn't enough, imagine him managing to rope you into a couples costume kind of thing. as much as he loved the idea of you also being a vampire, there is no way he could pass up you being his human victim. and when you step out of the bathroom with the finished ensemble — fake blood and bite mark and all — he is more than tempted to say screw the halloween party, he has much more fun plans in mind for the night.

he’s practically glued to your side the whole party, face tucked away in the crook of your shoulder. and he doesn’t even try to hide it, not that the wandering hands and constant bites at your neck are anywhere close to subtle. you do your best to ignore him and engage with everyone, but suna is far too good at making even something as simple as talking hard to do. you know what he’s scheming, that each nip at your ear and nuzzle of his nose is to slowly chip away at your resolve.

and it works, because it’s suna and the alcohol in your system has you feeling warm and the party was starting to bore anyway. so, grabbing the hand stuck to your hip, you discard your empty cup and pull him away somewhere dark and hidden from view. he doesn’t bother to tease something witty or flirty. a hand sliding up your shirt and the other tilting your head, thumb under your jaw and the veins of his hands flexed so beautifully. he uses his weight to pin you against the wall; the few drinks he downed aren’t much help for his balance.

the smudge of fake blood and puncture on your neck is licked off in favor of his own love bites. you have to dig your teeth down hard on your bottom lip to keep from drawing attention, even if you are out of sight. the gentle scrape and poke of his fangs — another part of his outfit you graciously helped with — makes your voice hiccup in your throat. his breath feels hot but the silver rings decorating each finger feel cold, an exciting contrast on your skin.

your quick pulse jumps against his lips and suna can’t help but smile to himself. “relax. we’ve barely even gotten to the fun part.”

© mattsumaki. do not translate, repost, or redistribute in any way on any platform.

#「 ☾ 」 — c.reblogged #i still think about this #it has altered the literal structure and chemistry of my brain and being

[mattsumaki]

tags : gn!reader, reverse hurt / comfort kinda, unspecified relationship (?), 0.5k words

bakugo stands still under the burning spray of the showerhead, eyes closed shut as he soaks in the heat. the cascade of water slides over his shoulders and chest, down his thighs and calves before running down the drain.

today has been the hardest of the week; fresh blooming bruises and healing cuts litter his skin from top to bottom. his palms feel raw and scalded from the seemingly nonstop use of his quirk. every muscle and limb pulses with a deep ache, one that feels settled past the tissue and in the very marrow of his bones. if he wasn’t clinging to his last shreds of strength — and the tile wall in front of him — he’d surely collapse from exhaustion.

a gentle knock at the door snags his attention. “hey,” your voice barely carries over the drowning patter. “you almost done?”

“yeah, yeah. give me a sec.” one hand scrubs at his face as the other reaches behind to shut off the water. grabbing a towel from the rack, he pulls it into the shower and slowly pats dry, then wraps it snugly around his hips as he steps out.

you’re sitting on the bathroom counter top, ankles crossed and head leaning on the wall as if it was too heavy for you to hold up. the dark bags under your eyes rival bakugo’s; stress had done its own number on you and the results were scarily similar to his. the permanent crease between your brows, the tense press of your lips in a line, the low sag of your shoulders.

he hates seeing you like this, hated even more knowing he was the reason why. he’s supposed to take care of you and make you happy. instead, he’s keeping you up late into the night worrying if he’s okay, if he’ll come home to you.

“i’m sorry.” the words slip past his lips without him thinking. they fade into the stretching quiet of the bathroom. you blink once, twice, eyes flicking around his features like you’re searching for more. then you reach a hand towards him.

hesitantly, he places his hand in yours and lets you pull him to you. his body slots between your legs, your thighs either side of his as his arms hang by your waist, fingers idly toying at your top. he allows some of his weight to lean on you, but not so much that you’re pressed into the mirror behind you. your breaths are quiet and steady in his ear.

fingers dancing over the skin of his chest, feather light and slow, you trace a path over his shoulders and down his arms to his hands, then back up again. he closes his eyes and focuses on the feeling of your touch; down, then up, down, then up. it’s enough to ground him in the moment. here, with you in your bathroom, both breathing and hearts beating, both warm and close.

your hands stop at the curves of his shoulders before sliding back to cup the nape of his neck. arms wrapping around him, you rest your head against his and blow out a soft sigh through your nose. he does the same, arms tightening around your lower back as he holds you close to him.

“i’m sorry.” tears prick at the corners of his eyes and he harshly blinks them away. “i’m so sorry.”

breathing in, you can barely hide the cracks in your own voice. “i know, katsuki. i know.”

© mattsumaki — do not translate, repost, modify, plagiarize, or redistribute in any way on any platform

#「 ☾ 」 — c.reblogged

[mattsumaki]

tags : gn!reader, fluff, romantic relationship, pet names (baby), 0.7k words

work would be the death of kuroo, he’s beyond certain of it. there are hard days — as with any job — but lately, they seem to have stacked themselves up one on the other like a pillar, each stretching him impossibly thinner than the last. to be fair, he can’t point all of the blame solely on his job, deserved it may be. he isn’t completely free of fault himself.

many of his colleagues love to joke that he’s a man married to his work. and it’s true, he knows it to be. he’s devoted to what he does, reminiscent in a way to how he’s devoted to you. when you begin to struggle under the weight of school or work, he’s there to shoulder some of it, all while gently chasitizing about how you need to prioritize and take care of yourself. but when it comes to himself and his own responsibilities, the same no longer applies.

just as he does with you, you do what you can to help ease his stress and remind him of the importance of focusing on himself as much as he does his work. and despite his genuine promises to not forget, it always manages to find its spot on the back burner. today was a clear example of just that.

the high stack of documents and thick files seemed to be endless. with each one he completed, five more took its place. the countless hours he poured in felt pointless when his efforts barely put a dent into his workload. by the end of the day, kuroo felt ready to collapse. and he planned to, preferably into your welcoming arms rather than his cluttered desk.

tiredly sliding the key into the lock, it turns with a quiet ‘click’. the doorknob twists in his palm as he pushes into your shared apartment, the door shutting against the weight of his back. he toes at the heel of his dress shoes until they slide off and pushes them next to yours. he doesn’t bother to step into the pair of slippers you keep next to the door for him; he had no plans of staying on his feet for much longer tonight.

you hear his heavy footfalls coming down the hall before you see him. tilting the screen down halfway, your eyes drift up to greet him when he enters. he lingers in the doorway, slouched figure leant on the frame and heavy gaze staring back at you. you take note of his disheveled appearance; silk red tie loose and uneven around his collar, first few buttons of his creased dress shirt undone.

you’re the first to speak. “hey, you. how was work today?”

his lips thin into a tight smile. he huffs through his nose indifferently, head rolling in a drowsy circle to relieve the tension in his neck. you fully close your laptop and push it off to his side of the bed. lap now empty, you open your arms in silent offering. he stands still for a long moment as he builds up the strength.

pushing off the door frame with a grunt, kuroo shakes off his suit jacket from his shoulders, letting it fall by the end of the bed in a heap for later. the mattress creaks under the weight of his knees as he shuffles up towards you.

your hands bump against his shoulders as they slide up to cradle the back of his head. eyes sliding shut, he lets you guide him to your chest while draping himself over top of you like a weighted blanket. he breathes out a deep sigh that warms your skin, arms sliding along your sides in a half-hearted attempt to hold you back.

it’s comforting, the way your hands card and scratch through the black mess of his hair. with each pass of your fingers through the dark strands, careful when they come across a knot to untangle, kuroo finds himself slipping further into the exhaustion pulling him under.

your hands in his hair as your lips brush the shell of his ear. “get some rest, tetsu. we can talk and worry about everything later. i’ll be here when you wake up.”

he noses at the underside of your jaw with a warm, drawn out sigh. “thank you, baby.” his mumbled words barely reach your ears before he’s dozing off to the steady pound of your heartbeat.

© mattsumaki. do not translate, repost, or redistribute in any way on any platform.

#「 ☾ 」 — c.reblogged

[mattsumaki]

today is…happy…tree :)

#「 ☾ 」 — c.talking #merry / happy (insert what ya celebrate) #(and if ya don’t celebrate anything merry / happy sunday) #hope it was nice hope ya had fun #hope y’all are stayin’ warm #i love y’all mwah!

[mattsumaki]

tags : gn!reader, fluff, suggestive, romantic relationship, cursing, 0.5k words

the first thing matsukawa notices when he wakes, aside from the bright shine of the sun in his eyes, is the absence of you. the arm once hung heavily over your shoulders lay outstretched across the sheets. his hand, previously laced with yours and tucked to your chest, is now curled around nothing. you somehow had managed to slip away without stirring him.

you’re supposed to spend the morning — and the afternoon, if he could persuade you just so — with him cuddled in bed. instead, if the sound of rushing water is anything to go off, you’re in the bathroom brushing your teeth. the tap goes silent as he sits up in bed. you walk in a second later and he tips onto his back to look at you.

dressed in nothing but a pair of underwear and a t-shirt that’s far too big for you — one that could be his for all he knows — you lean against the frame, arms crossed and gaze staring back at him.

“look who decided to wake up.”

he blows out a laugh through his nose as a grin fights its way across his lips. “funny. y’know, some people actually recommend sleeping during the day, it’s supposed to be better for you.”

“is that right?”

“mhmm,” he hums back with a nod. you straighten away from the doorway and walk over to the bed. his eyes follow you as you shuffle across the blanket on your knees towards him. he reaches out to cup your hips in his palms underneath your — his? — shirt. legs sliding along either side of his waist, you drop your weight on top of his lap. the teasing ‘oof’ that follows earns him a smack to the chest.

“asshole.”

“you love this asshole.”

“sure i do. i could be deceiving you this whole time, for all you know.”

his eyes are soft as he looks up at you. “you wouldn’t do that.” and there’s more truth to his words than your playful teasing. for a moment, his expression hardens and his voice softens. “sorry for that, it was mean of me.”

“you’re okay. more importantly,” sliding a hand up the expanse of his chest, you give his cheek a pinch. “you need to get up already.”

the hands at your hips lower to move up and down the tops of your thighs. “c’mon, baby.” he coos the pet name wishfully.

“baby, hm?” your own hands push under his pillow as you lean forward onto his chest, face coming impossibly close to his. his gaze catches yours for a second before your lips are pressing onto his; once, twice, kisses slow and meaningful. you faintly taste like mint toothpaste and his favorite vanilla chapstick.

to his imminent dismay, you draw away from him, though not without a protesting whine beneath you. before he can sweet talk you into staying ‘just a little longer’, your voice whispers softly by his ear something even matsukawa can’t resist.

“if you get up now, i’ll let you shower with me.”

© mattsumaki. do not translate, repost, or redistribute in any way on any platform.

#「 ☾ 」 — c.reblogged #with how horrendous my sleep schedule has become #this man wouldn’t even need to ask or beg or even persuade me #and i can’t tell if that’s a good or bad thing

[mattsumaki]

tags : gn!reader, fluff, romantic relationship, pet names (handsome), 0.2k words

thinking about boyfriend!kuroo who, though is very skilled in the art of flustering, is equally — if not more — stunned when the affection and compliments are turned on him. i love and see him having this flirty, suave personality. but i also can’t help but love the complete opposite.

he likes to think it’s hard to get him stuttering and red in the cheeks, and it can certainly be quite the challenge to beat. but other times, all it takes is a kiss on his lips in front of his friends, or laughing at his stupid jokes, or swapping out ‘tetsu’ for a sweet ‘handsome’ and suddenly he’s forgotten how to speak.

the teasing that ensues from you and his friends alike only deepens the blush spreading down his neck and to the tips of his ears. and he’ll dismiss it with a laugh like you didn’t just make his heart skip over several beats. but you know it did; you can tell by the way his eyes can’t quite meet yours and how he squeezes your hand a little tighter in his grasp.

when it hits particularly hard, he’ll try to one up you with an arm circling around your waist to bring you flush against him. his voice is soft and low as he lays it on thick; well, thicker than usual. it’s become a game of sorts between you to see who can fluster the other quicker. he’s yet to beat your solid two week streak. a part of him doesn’t mind, because the permanent lovesick smile on his face isn’t from all your honeyed words and flirtatious touches. it’s there because of you.

© mattsumaki. do not translate, repost, or redistribute in any way on any platform.

#「 ☾ 」 — c.reblogged #i just noticed a fucking mistake this oh my f—mmmmmm #that’s a little embarrassing #y’know how many times i read these then reread over them again? multiple times? #it’s fixed now but i and everyone else who’s seen it know

[mattsumaki]

tags : gn!reader, fluff, romantic relationship, cursing, pet names (baby), 0.1k words

thinking about girlfriend!saeko whose love language is smacking your ass. like, say, you’re bending over at the waist to grab something off the floor, like a sock or whatever, and she just so happens to be walking behind you at that exact moment. one glance in your direction, one glance at your bottoms tightly stretching over your ass, and her hand is smacking it.

or, let’s say, you’re not bent over? she’s still smacking it. you could be in the kitchen doing whatever you’re doing — cooking at the stove, washing dishes at the sink, grabbing something from the cupboards, whatever — and you’re oh so amazing girlfriend will pass you and just…smack that ass.

your reaction is her favorite part; shocked, annoyed, angry, embarrassed, does not matter. she will grin all proud and giggle to herself, happy as can be. she’s not all that mean, though. every time she does it, she makes sure to give the spot she smacked a nice little pat (like that’ll make it feel better). plus, an extra kiss on the cheek and flirty, “you’re looking extra good today, baby.”

© mattsumaki. do not translate, repost, or redistribute in any way on any platform.

#「 ☾ 」 — c.reblogged

[mattsumaki]

tags : fluff, unspecified relationship, edited repost, 0.3k words (inspired by @cermeru <3)

there are many words that one can use to describe bakugo katsuki. hot-headed is the first to come to mind at the mere mention of his name. there’s also loud, arrogant, and even callous. though not the kindest of words, they aren’t too far off from the truth; his presence is something hard to ignore when he steps into a room.

but they’re not the only ones that can be used to describe him.

he’s also warm, thoughtful, soft-hearted, and patient when he tries his best to be. these traits certainly don’t stand out as proudly and obnoxiously as the others do. rather, they express themselves in subtler ways.

when the tense weight of his shoulders drops, if only for a short time. when the crease in his brows melts away and the scrunch of his nose smoothens. when the toothy snarl that twists up his mouth softens to a relaxed, barely there smile. when the raging wildfire in his vermillion eyes settles to a calmer flicker of candlelight.

in the moments you share alone together, the softer parts of him shine brighter. you can see it in how his tightly bawled fists uncurl to feel the light trace of your fingertips on his palms. how he smiles to himself when you play with his spiked hair, something he’ll never openly admit he enjoys. how he handles you with the utmost tender touch, as if he’s scared to harm or frighten you if he’s too rough.

bakugo katsuki is rough around the edges, brash, and stubborn to a fault. but he can be just as determined, loving, and gentle as the less than favorable parts of himself. there is much more to him than what people see on the surface.

© mattsumaki — do not translate, repost, modify, plagiarize, or redistribute in any way on any platform

#「 ☾ 」 — c.reblogged

[mattsumaki]

i told myself i was gonna write some winter fic by christmas…that ain’t happenin’

#「 ☾ 」 — c.talking #to be fair #i both didn’t really try despite having ideas (and never writing them down) #and just straight up forgot / lost track of time #i wrote a halloween fic with suna #that was my contribution for something themed this year #and who knows? maybe by some struck of luck i’ll manage to get something winter themed out before january #probably not but i can hope all i want

[mattsumaki]

tags : gn!reader + poly!bokuroo, fluff, domestic, romantic relationship(s), mentions of food, heavy use of names (sorry), 1.3k words

kuroo is the first to stir awake under the warmth of a new morning. it’s amazing, or maybe annoying is a better word, how the sun weasels through the slit in the curtains and under the pillow thrown on top of his head. he wants to ignore it, to close his eyes and squeeze you closer to his chest, but he doesn’t.

because when he’s woken up — no matter the way or reason — there’s no falling back asleep.

sliding his head out from beneath the pillow, his eyes blink open to take in the early morning. it takes a moment for the room to unblur and his mind to wake up with the rest of him. the arm stretched across your waist lifts up into the air, fingers feathering out as if to touch the light, then falls limp behind your back.

you and bokuto are fast asleep, somehow still in the position you curled into last night; legs tangled in an indiscernible mess, his face pressed halfway between your chest and stomach, your arms looped over his shoulders, one of his tucked between your bodies and the other slung over your waist to touch your other boyfriend. kuroo huffs a laugh through his nose.

bokuto could never fall asleep without touching both of you, even if it made for some uncomfortable positions. if there was a will, there was a determined way, and it was always worth it to see the big, toothy grin on his face as he fell asleep.

bending at the waist, kuroo brushes his nose over your temple and places a barely there kiss on your cheek. “morning,” he rasps.

you supply a faint hum in return but make no signs of getting up. not that he expected you to given how early in the morning it is; eight hours and eleven minutes in the morning to be exact, according to the clock on the bedside table.

the mattress noticeably lifts behind you as he pushes off the bed. his footsteps are light as he carefully sneaks out of the bedroom, careful to not further rouse either of you. you’re quick to curl closer around bokuto with a displeased grumble. he mimics your actions, quietly mumbling something back into the material of your shirt as his arms tighten around your middle.

kuroo staggers down the hall with a sluggish pace. a long yawn scrunches up his features and he absentmindedly scratches at his stomach. the morning sun once again greets him when he walks into the kitchen, tile cold under his bare feet. his body carries itself around the kitchen to grab various things — three mugs and a cutting board from the cupboard, a small knife from the drawer, and fruit from the fridge.

he places the mugs by the coffee machine and presses the start button for it to warm up. you were smart to fill up the water and grounds in the filter the night before. as the machine growls to life, kuroo stands by the sink to wash the fruit; a mix of fresh strawberries, blueberries, and orange slices. perfect breakfast to start the sunday morning with.

drying everything with paper towels, he scoops out strawberries one by one from their box. cutting off the leafy top, he slices them in halves and pushes them aside into a pile. once there’s a decent amount for three people, he moves onto peeling the rinds of the oranges. the sweet citrusy smell tickles his nose and makes his fingers sticky.

the sound of your feet coming up from behind him almost goes unheard over the rumble of the coffee machine finishing warming up. your nose pushes into the indent of his spine and you take a deep breath in. he smells like all of you rolled into one and mixed with cinnamon. it’s a nice smell, comforting.

“hope i didn’t wake you.” he glances at your figure waddling away to pour yourself a cup of coffee. the sight spreads a fond smile across his lips.

you blow away the steam swirling in your face as you walk back to kuroo. “would it make you feel better or worse if i said yes?”

he lightly smacks a hand over his heart and tips his head back. “oh, how my baby wounds me.”

“you’ll live.” leaning your hip against the counter, you watch with silent interest as he works on peeling the rind from another orange. he pretends to not notice the way you watch his movements, mug occasionally lifting to your lips for a small sip.

you wait for him to gather the mess of orange peel and strawberry tops to throw away, then snatch a few pieces of fruit to eat when his back turns. when he stands back in front of the cutting board, his eyes stare at it for a long moment, like he’s trying to see something that you can’t.

kuroo turns his head to look at you out of the corner of his eye. “did you just…?”

you simply shake your head, lips sealed tight. his eyes narrow at your response, or rather, lack thereof. before he can interrogate you, his obviously guilty partner, bokuto enters the kitchen. he smiles sleepily upon seeing the two of you. his hair is a mess of flyaways, long sleeved shirt crumpled and riding up around his waist.

you turn your body towards him and open your arms for a hug. he gladly accepts the offer with a tiny giggle, large figure tipping you to the side as he leans over to place a kiss to kuroo’s cheek. the happy grin on his lips weakens around the edges.

“you guys left me,” bokuto mumbles, head moving to rest on kuroo’s shoulder like it’s become too heavy for him to hold up himself.

kuroo is quick to defend himself. “i had to make breakfast, i don’t know what their excuse is.”

you childishly stick your tongue out at him, and he throws the same face back but exaggerated. the back and forth makes bokuto laugh into kuroo’s shoulder. kuroo places a peck to the top of his head, then another on his hairline. you take their cute yet distracted moment to steal another piece of fruit. bokuto does the same a split second later, biting an orange slice in half.

“stop stealing the fruit!”

"but it tastes good," bokuto pouts. you second him with an agreeing nod.

"and it will taste just as good when i'm done, so be patient. please." kuroo tacks on the last part like an afterthought; a gentle one despite the look he sends both of your ways. “could one of you thieves grab me a bowl please?”

you snicker to yourself as you saunter to the cupboard to find a bowl. nudging bokuto in the side with his elbow, kuroo gestures to your forgotten mug of coffee on the counter. without checking with you first, he picks it up and hands it to your boyfriend who takes a long sip of your coffee. he sets it back down on the counter with an obnoxious smack of his lips.

you return just in time to see him retract his hand away so he can take the bowl from you. before he can grab it, you pull your arm back out of his reach. he gives you a weird look and you point your eyes down at your mug.

“you drank my coffee.”

“i took a sip, for one.” kuroo snags the bowl from your hand and begins scraping the fruit in with the knife. “two, you kept eating the fruit before i was done.”

“so you drink my coffee?”

“sip it.” kuroo corrects again with a smug tone. guiding bokuto the side with a hand on his hip, he presses a kiss to his lips and then yours. “now eat your breakfast.”

© mattsumaki. do not translate, repost, or redistribute in any way on any platform.

#「 ☾ 」 — c.writing #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu x reader #bokuto x gender neutral reader #bokuto x reader #kuroo x gender neutral reader #kuroo x reader #bokuto x kuroo #kuroo x bokuto