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heich0e · 1 year

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CUTTING TEETH - mastuskawa issei/f!reader/hanamaki takahiro (4.2k) vampire!au, vampire!matsuhana, new vampire!reader, poly matsuhana, mmf!threesome (barely), smut, finger sucking, fingering, mentions of blood/blood drinking, lots of talk about teeth and mouths, reader is going through a bit of a breakdown, sweetheart and good girl used as petnames, matsuhana give off slightly yandere vibes but they aren't actually, and reader is physically restrained at one point but it's not non/dubcon! part of the 'more than you can chew' universe 18+ NFSW - MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

Time passes differently now.

It makes sense, you can’t help but think in those precious moments when the haze lifts and grants you a reprieve of much needed clarity; It’s only logical that something would feel different now that you are too. Seconds ticking past but mean nothing when you stay unchanging. Time no longer has any meaning now that you’re frozen in it. And so nine days slip by, and they’re all a blur; one bleeds unintelligibly into the next, but they feel like what once were seconds in another life.

You’re burning.

You’re hungry.

You feel as if you’re coming undone.

But you’re safe. You know that to be true too. Even in the haze, even in the vicious delirium and the burn, there are hands that cradle you and the gentle brush of lips against your skin. You’re surrounded constantly by the scent of pine, the whistle of the winter wind and soft, familiar voices.

They’d told you it would be like this, prepared you for it. But knowing something in theory and knowing something in practice are very different things.

You’re curled up in the corner of the smallest room in the house. It’s the only one with tatami floors, though you suspect at one time—before extensive renovations that shaped the home into something beautiful but unrecognizable—there once may have been more. This room is used for storage now, mostly; there are a few boxes piled up along one side, an extra futon folded up in one corner, and antiques in pristine condition that don’t seem to otherwise match the decor. Those are half-covered by drop cloths to protect them from dust or damage, but there’s a vanity along the wall that’s been half-revealed as the sheet pools on the floor, revealing beautiful knotted elm, a pristine mirror, and careful woodwork underneath. There’s a faint scent of must that hangs in the still air, and the little room is dark—the sole window along the opposite side covered by thick curtains to block out the sun.

But you prefer the dark now.

You see too much in the light.

The air in the dim room shifts suddenly, and you lift your face from the crook between your knees where they’re drawn up to your chest.

“There you are—”

You heard him even before he opened the door. Heard him on the other side of the house before he even started making his way to you.

“—I’ve been looking all over for you.”

The man on the other side of the room keeps his distance as he appraises you. It’s a gesture that is not done unkindly. Everything Matsukawa Issei does is considerate, as ever.

He knows the hell you’re suffering.

“What’re you doing in here, huh?”

Issei makes his way towards you at an easy, lazy pace, even though the room is so small. The way he takes his time approaching you is unimposing, even given his height and his breadth, like a trapper approaching small prey that had mistakenly gotten locked in their snare.

Your throat feels raw when you finally speak. To be honest, you aren’t entirely certain when the last time you spoke even was. It may have been a few days. Perhaps only hours.

You wonder when it will get easier to keep track, now that the flow of time feels so foreign.

“My jaw hurts.”

Issei crouches down next to you slowly, and your senses follow him; his warmth, his scent, the steady sound of his breaths. He draws closer and closer, his presence growing more unignorable until he’s mere inches away from your face. His proximity effortlessly eases the ache that thrums under your gums. His nearness soothes the inferno that has scorched a hearth into your chest.

“Your jaw?” he repeats your words, a careful hand reaching out towards you. His movements are cautious but sure, measured but gentle. His broad palm caresses your cheek, his touch soft against your skin. You lean into it, into him, as unconsciously as drawing in a breath.

It’s quiet as he holds you.

“…My teeth.”

Issei hums. The sound is a deep, sympathetic purr that makes your skin prickle just underneath the surface. His hand slips a little further down your face, until he’s cupping your jaw rather than the soft swell of your cheek. Your eyes finally meet his, and you’re lost in them as the pad of his thumb presses against the pucker of your mouth.

“Can I?” he asks, his head tilting to the side.

Your lips part for his willingly, wordlessly, welcoming him in.

The tip of the digit slips underneath your top lip, and you can taste the subtle saltiness that clings to his skin. Issei watches your expression as he traces along the front of your upper row of teeth, ghosting along the smooth enamel and mapping the peaks and valleys as one tooth gives way to the next. His touch sweeps a little further up and the investigation continues as he skims along the soft pink of your gums. The warmth of his hand and his closeness has your mouth filling with saliva that threatens to drip at the corner of your parted lips.

He presses, firmer now than he has yet, against a tender spot along your gums.

“Mmmmmph—!”

You clutch his wrist tightly with both hands, holding him still as you pant raggedly against his palm. Spit freely runs down his skin now, and your chin, catching in the low light of the small room you’ve locked yourself away in as it drips slowly to the floor. That all-consuming burn is still there—haunting your lungs and up the track of your throat—but you’re holding onto Issei tighter than you’ve ever held anything.

“Easy, easy,” he soothes you quietly, his other hand reaching up to pat along your hair. Your grip slackens, but you keep his hand pressed desperately to your mouth like a lifeline. His thumb is still resting against that sensitive, aching spot, and once he senses it’s safe for him to continue he sweeps the pad of it against that place again. There’s a throb deep beneath the muscle that twinges, and it’s painful but surprisingly not unpleasant. Your jaw relaxes slightly, though your breaths are still shuddering, and it grants him even better access to your mouth than before.

“Good girl,” he praises you for the utterly unconscious gesture, sweeping the digit stuck beneath your lip slowly along to the same spot on the opposite side of your top row of teeth. It hurts there too, but Issei’s touch is gentle and compassionate; soothing as it glides against the slick flesh.

The little room around you fades away, little by little, until all you know is him.

Your vision grows hazy, your eyelids suddenly heavy as Issei continues to explore your mouth. The pain that had been so all-consuming just moments before is easier now to bear, your senses dulling to anything that isn’t him. There’s so much saliva pooling under your tongue that you can hear how wet it is as the man before you moves his thumb around inside.

Eventually he’s satisfied, a pleased little hum telling you he’s found what he was looking for, and as if to reward you he slips his thumb between your teeth and rubs it against the surface of your tongue. You close your lips around it happily.

“Gentle,” he urges, and you heed his warning—careful not to bite down or otherwise move too eagerly with his finger caught in your mouth. You suckle it gently on nothing more than sheer instinct. It feels nice—soothing, familiar somehow even though it isn’t—and he sighs contently. “That’s it.”

You stay like that for a while, holding his wrist as you suck against the warmth of his thumb where it rests against your tongue. You grow even more delirious the longer you indulge yourself—the demons that have been clawing at you incessantly for the past nine days quieting until you can scarcely notice them at all.

“Your teeth are coming in,” Issei eventually speaks again in that easy, gentle way he always does, but you hardly register his words through your daze.

You make a small noise of confusion once his words reach you somewhere you can understand.

“Your fangs,” he explains as he smiles softly down at you, watching with nothing short of fondness in his gaze.

You blink, processing his revelation though your brain is foggy and your thoughts are syrupy slow.

Issei slips his thumb out of your mouth only once you allow him to, dipping forward and dragging his tongue along your bottom lip to catch the spit that has steadily been dribbling out. He doesn’t kiss you, not really anyway, even though the gesture feels so intimate and his lips are practically upon yours. It’s as though he senses you want to say something, because as soon as he’s cleaned you up he’s pulling away and looking to you expectantly.

“My… fangs?” you sound uncertain, your voice thready and confused as you repeat what he’s told you.

Issei lifts his thumb up to his mouth; the length of it is covered in the sheen of your saliva, all the way down to his wrist. He cleans that off too as he nods.

You shiver a little.

“Are they going to fall out?” you ask him worriedly, a tightness of anxiety weaving itself into a knot in the centre of your searing chest.

“Yes,” he says, sparing you no detail and offering you no misguided pleasantry in the interest of your own sake. He cups your cheeks in both hands this time, keeping your eyes on him, and he uses his thumbs to curl your upper lip and reveal your teeth again—one holds the lip up out of the way while the other dips down to trace over the canine tooth just below that wretchedly aching spot in your gums. “Just think of these like milk teeth.”

He traces along the razor fine edge of your incisor with the very tip of his finger, then across to your canine—careful, even with all his own strength, not to nick himself on the sharpness.

“Right now, these teeth are meant to shred—to rip and tear through skin and bone and whatever else might be in your way so you can get as much blood as quickly as possible. So you can get stronger,” he says, and his low, gentle voice softens the gruesomeness of his words into something palatable and easy to swallow. “But your fangs will give you acuity. Precision. You’ll be able to puncture just enough to draw what you need when you feed as you mature.”

You whimper a little when he presses down against your canine, as though terrified it might begin to wiggle under his touch.

“You’re cutting teeth, that’s all,” he says simply, and you wish his words were more comforting to hear than they are. He slips his finger out once more and allows your lip to return to its rightful place. He tuts lightly. “But it’s painful, isn’t it?”

You nod a bit, your head dipping as much as it’s able with his hands still cradling your cheeks on either side.

“Poor little thing,” Issei breathes, crowding you a little closer to the wall where you’ve been curled up in your misery. “Want me to make you feel better?”

Your back rests flush to Issei’s chest, two of his fingers pressed deep into your mouth. He has your knees hooked over his thighs and his legs spread to keep you open, and tips of his talented fingers orbit in rhythmic circles around your clit.

It all sounds so wet.

Your mouth. Your pussy. Your shuddering breaths. The racing thump of your heart.

The coil of tension in the pit of your insatiable stomach has nearly wound tight enough to break.

How many times has he made you cum in the past nine days? You wonder distantly in your mind. How many more times will he make you cum in the innumerable ones that now lie ahead?

Your head pitches back against Issei’s shoulder as his mouth laves down the column of your neck. You feel the familiar drag of his teeth along your throat, and the sensation still makes your heart race—even though the thumping is little more than vestigial; even though his teeth wont pierce you the way they used to when there was still blood that he craved rushing underneath your once fragile, delicate skin.

“Feel good?” he murmurs into your skin between kisses, and your hips jump in place of an answer—as clear an indicator to your agreement than any words you may be able to offer in reply. His fingertips press a little firmer against the sensitive bud at the apex of your dripping core.

“‘Sei,” your voice is reedy and wanton as you call for him around his fingers.

“What do you need, sweetheart?”

You don’t know. Or maybe you do, but your ability to verbalize it has abandoned you along with your sanity.

But you’re needy. You need more. Need something. Need anything.

You shift in his lap, as much as you can given the way he’s holding you, and grind against the firm swell of his cock nestled behind your back. Issei pulls his fingers out from your mouth, the pads of his fingers slipping softly against your lips.

“Yeah?” his reply is deep, breathy, “that what you want?”

You nod, fervent and crazed.

Strangely, you feel a little more normal like this—a little more like who you used to be. He used to make you feel this frenzied back then too, but now he doesn’t need to be as gentle with you as he once was. In spite of that, Issei still touches you like you’re something breakable. Something precious.

“Hiro will be back soon,” the man above you whispers as he gently lays you flat against the tatami flooring, his nose brushing yours. “Are you hungry?”

It hardly needs to be asked. You’re always hungry. At least you have been for the past nine days. There’s a little pile of crumpled silver packets on one side of the room, long-drained, as evidence to this fact. Hiro’s been bringing you more blood each day, fresh blood—that tastes better than the synthetic stuff you find yourself guzzling in the hours in between—but it still doesn’t feel like it’s enough to satiate you. Not enough to douse the burn that torches your throat.

You’re not sure where he’s getting it, and you don’t ask. The truth is you don’t even know where you are.

Prior to turning, Issei and Hiro had asked if you prefer the sea or the forest. The smell of salt air or pine sap. You’d answered the forest, with fond memories of wandering around the green space in the countryside where your grandparents lived when you were a child. When you’d woken up nine days ago in this big house in the middle of the woods, you realized why they’d asked you to begin with.

You’re far away from civilization here.

Or rather, civilization is far away from you.

Because you’re the thing that needs to be kept away. Isolated. Contained. All in the best interest of the beating hearts and pumping blood that floods the city you’d once known.

The thought of blood rushing under skin, of throngs of people saturated with it, makes your mouth water.

“Issei,” you moan, your sharp teeth gnashing involuntarily at the thought as you cling to him a little tighter. “Please."

The man hovering over you shushes you gently; a soothing placating sound. “I’m sorry, I know it’s hard,” he murmurs, slipping a hand under the silk of your robe, “it’ll get easier, I promise.”

Issei knows it better than anyone, you think. His words a little more comforting because you know he’s speaking from experience. He’d been just like you once: bloodthirsty and on the brink—a mind in tatters as it fights to acclimatize to the sudden change of being turned, attempting to knit itself back together into something new. Takahiro had turned him only 100 years ago, after all.

Only—a part of your brain scoffs, maybe the last rational part that’s endured—when did 100 years become something you could measure so flippantly?

Issei unfastens the loose tie of your robe at your waist, letting the silky material slip from your body like the flow of water over stone. You don’t know who’d dressed you in it, only that it’s not something you’d pulled on yourself. You hadn’t washed or dressed yourself since you’d woken up.

Yet another way you’ve been cared for in the time in-between.

Two strong arms cage you in against the floor, a palm resting on either side of your face. Issei’s body is warm. You like that. He always used to feel so much colder than you did, but now that your body is running at the same temperature his touch feels more ambient.

“Hey,” Issei’s gentle hand takes your chin to turn your gaze towards him, “get out of your head for a minute, okay? Just focus on me. I’m right here.”

He is, and he has been. He and Hiro both, for the past nine days.

And for a long time before that.

And now forever.

Issei dips forwards and kisses you sweetly, deeply.

He doesn’t have to prep you like he used to, because your body isn’t fragile in the same ways it once was. You feel the thick head of his cock dragging through the sticky petals of your pussy, and know that you can stretch to accommodate him without any of the discomfort you may have once felt. When he presses inside, you just feel full. You just feel good.

You moan against his mouth as he gives the first few slow thrusts, like he’s letting you get used to it. Like he’s letting you enjoy it.

But it’s not enough.

With newfound strength, a strength you’re not yet fully used to, you roll the two of you over and pin him down against the tatami. Issei’s eyes are surprised, but not unwilling in the slightest, as he stares up at you with his dark hair fanning away from his face. Your hips begin moving freely, using your new position as leverage. You’re full, then empty, then full again as you bounce on his lap—the wet, lewd sound of skin slapping fills the room, but you can scarcely hear it over the thrum of your pulse.

“That’s it,” Issei groans, praising you. His eyes have gone half-lidded as you ride him, a little smile on his lips. “Take what you need, sweetheart.”

Your hips keep moving, chasing the pleasure that’s rising in your core. His hand finds yours, and you clasp your hand around his to guide it up your body. First to your chest, where he grabs a handful of your soft, bouncing flesh. He kneads it gently for a moment, his thumb pressing teasingly against the pebbled bud of your nipple. But that’s not where you want him either, and you keep guiding it up to your mouth.

“Careful,” Issei’s voice has gone a little raspier now as you bring his fingers to your lips. And you’re trying to be, you really are, but you’re a little too far gone to care that much.

He is too.

If you wanted to, he’d let you bite. Let you devour him.

You lick between his knuckles, flicking your tongue up between the digits as saliva drips down to his wrist, all while you keep spearing yourself back down onto his thick, hard cock. You slip the fingertips just past your lips, and moan around the digits when you feel him throb inside of you, your free hand hand fluttering down to your stomach where you swear you might be able to feel him shaping your body to fit him inside. You’re still grinding down against him, still suckling against his fingers, and Issei is still staring up at you from the floor with a tender, heavy lidded gaze.

“I love you,” he murmurs, and god do you know that he means it.

“Yeah, love you,” you whimper back, breathy and pitchy and desperate as you let his hand fall from your mouth. You drop down onto your elbows to kiss him, wet and messy, and hope that he knows that you mean it too.

Issei keeps thrusting up into you as your lips slot messily against his, an arm wound around the small of your back to keep you in place as he fucks into you. You’re lost in the feeling of it, in the pleasure Issei is giving to you, when suddenly light washes over the little room.

“I thought I heard you two in here.”

You squint against the light, your lips still hovering over Issei’s as you pant. Takahiro leans against the doorframe on the other side of the room, and his gaze sweeps across the scene as he pushes his flashy sunglasses up onto his head, his strawberry hair pinned back underneath them. His red eyes watch you placidly, an amused little smile on his face.

You always found it hard to believe that of the two of them, Hiro was the elder. And not marginally—Hanamaki Takahiro has seen more seasons than all of the towering trees that surround your little safe house combined. Where Issei is solemn and reserved, favouring understated clothes and quiet, Hiro delights in the marvels of the modern era; revels in them. Their stark juxtaposition is part of what had drawn you to them in the first place.

Part of what had led you here.

“Hiro,” you breathe when you spot him, but then the hair stands up n the back of your neck as you catch the sweet smell of blood in the air.

Something monstrous squirms inside of you; animalistic and feral. You scramble blindly towards it, but Issei keeps you where you are with his arms wrapped around your waist and his cock still inside of you. He pulls you to his chest as you thrash against him. You sob, desperately fighting against his hold. There’s an ungodly burning in your throat, saliva dripping from your trembling lips. Then Hiro is in front of you, so quickly so barely see him move, patting your hair back from your face.

“Shh, shh,” he coos in his smooth, low voice. You blink tears away, swallowing against your mouth full of spit. The ache in you teeth is back, worse now than before, almost as if you can feel the slice of fangs that want to push through your flesh and descend. You want to bite. To rend and tear. Every breath you draw in burns with the delicious fragrance you know is so close. You cling to Issei harder. “Baby, it’s not going anywhere. You’ll feed soon, just calm down. Don’t rush.”

Hiro takes your face in his hands, pressing light kisses the edge of your mouth, your cheeks, your nose. In the corner over Hiro's shoulder, you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror of the vanity that sits half-uncovered.

You don't recognize the animal that peers back.

You’re tense even as Hiro coddles you, soothes you, but then Issei’s hips start moving again. The unexpected sensation punches a carnal, gasping sound out of you and it makes Hiro laugh against your cheek, all air.

There are four hands on your body, two mouths against your skin.

“Oh, that’s our girl,” Hiro sounds chipper as you slacken, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “Breathe for us, okay? Just breathe. It’s okay.”

You hear the sloppy sound of Issei’s hips meeting yours, and the jingling of Hiro’s belt as he unfastens it with one hand.

You smell the scent of fresh blood, but also the cool early-winter air that clings to the material of Hiro’s coat now that he’s so close, still heavy with the lingering fragrant pine from outside.

You feel pleasure building while they touch you, until it drowns out the ache. You’re hungry, but the burn isn’t quite so vicious. Your teeth hurt, but you find the sting has been soothed.

“Resist it for a bit—”

You’re not sure who moves you, but soon you’re splayed out again with your back to the floor, Issei is pinning your wrists down by your face, and both men are looming over you. Hiro looks up at Issei, tucking a tendril of his dark hair behind his ear dotingly. He smiles as he looks back down to you, his touch still lingering on the shell of Issei’s ear.

“—For us?”

Seconds tick by that you can’t keep track of.

But it’s getting easier.

And you have plenty of time to figure it out.

You shut your eyes, nodding slightly as you swallow over the burn in your throat, and you let your mind go blank.

#matsukawa issei x reader #mattsun x reader #matsukawa x reader #hanamaki takahiro x reader #makki x reader #hanamaki x reader #matsuhana #hq writing #hq fic #writing

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rintaroll · 9 months

Text

❝ INSIDE THE LINES. ❞

— during matsukawa's time babysitting your niece, more than a couple realizations occur to you.

⊱┊pairing. matsukawa issei x gn!reader ⊱┊tags. fluff, established relationship, reader has a 6 year old niece and works at the bakery, food mention, mattsun has a sleeve tattoo :], unedited ⊱┊wc. 1.3k ⊱┊note. cleaning out my drafts hehe this was back when i had my mattsun brain rot (OH btw while writing this he works as a tattoo artist in my mind but i didnt mention it anywhere)

"issei, i'm so sorry-"

"it's fine," matsukawa waves his hand dismissively. his eyes flicker to the clock on the wall. "when are you coming home?"

"soon. i just have to frost the cupcakes and wait for the customer to pick them up." you pan your phone to the chocolate cupcakes, fresh out of the oven and still steaming hot.

"those look really good, babe." matsukawa muses.

you hear a small voice squealing from behind the camera. "i wanna see!"

your boyfriend chuckles, eyes trained on your niece, himeko, whose ears have perked up at the word 'cupcakes'. the six-year-old scrambles onto the sofa, comfortably nestling herself into matsukawa's side. her eyes widen when she finally sees the cupcakes in all their chocolatey goodness. "yummy..." she says, eyes boring into matsukawa's phone screen, unblinking and shiny.

you pan your phone back to your face. "they're not for you!" you remind her.

"i know!" himeko sighs dramatically, strands of hair falling onto her face. mattsun effortlessly brushes it back. "i have to wait for tomorrow so we can make them together."

"yes, that's right." you nod in approval.

"why can't it be tomorrow already?" she pouts. mattsun doesn't realize, but your eyes are trained on him while he stares at your niece while adorning an amused smile.

"hm," you ponder. "maybe if you sleep early tonight, then tomorrow will come earlier?" a sly grin forms on your lips.

himeko narrows her eyes at you. "that's not gonna work on me!"

you shrug. "worth a try."

matsukawa snickers at your failed attempt to trick her. "smart girl," he praises her before raising one of his hands, which is met with a high five from himeko. your niece then proceeds to stick her tongue out at you.

you shake your head, but there's a smile on your lips despite you doing so. she might as well steal your boyfriend at this point, you think to yourself.

you can almost remember the good times—when himeko was four and hiding behind your legs, while matsukawa was crouching in front of you. she was terrified, little hands gripping onto your pants. she told you he looked like a gangster, with all the tattoos covering the entirety of his right arm. "what if he kidnaps me?" she wailed once he leaves, to which you comfort her by saying that he won't. from her skeptic expression and her glassy eyes, it was safe to say that she was far from convinced.

and yet now here you are. with your boyfriend and your niece in cahoots, conspiring together to overthrow you someday.

"anyways, i was calling because she wanted me to tell you she finished her coloring book, isn't that right, hime?"

halfway through his words, himeko lets out an 'oh!' and jumps up from the couch. she picks up her coloring book off the floor, where it was surrounded by an assortment of colored pencils and markers in disarray. flipping to the last page, she proudly shows off her latest piece of work. "look!"

you gasp, genuinely admiring the effort she's put into coloring in the drawing of a fish. considering how she's just turned six, she's done a wonderful job in coloring inside the lines. "that looks so nice! did you do that all by yourself?"

"yep!" she chirps, nodding excitedly before stopping to ponder for a moment. "hm... i guess, uncle mattsun did help me color the amenomies..."

"anemones," matsukawa stage whispers.

"right, amenemones."

you and matsukawa bite back your laughs. "it looks really good, himeko," you comment, still smiling.

himeko nods absentmindedly. it becomes obvious to both you and matsukawa that her attention is not on either of you anymore. she goes out of frame as she continues to flip through her coloring book and zeroes in on her work, leaving matsukawa the only one left in view of the camera.

your eyes flit to the top of your phone screen, clicking your tongue when you read the time. "alright, i better go and start frosting. the customer will be here soon. bye, himeko! bye, baby."

matsukawa's heart flutters helplessly. he will never get tired of you calling him that. "see you," your boyfriend beams. although still engrossed by her coloring book, you hear your niece mumble a soft 'bye' right before the call ends.

pocketing his phone, matsukawa turns his focus back on himeko only to find her tiny lips curled into a frown. "something wrong, sweets?"

she looks up, with her brows all scrunched up. matsukawa feels his heart melt at the sight. "i'm out of pages. what will i color now?"

"i'll buy you another one tomorrow, okay?" he pokes her nose.

with a giggle, she scrunches her nose in effect. "okay."

an idea spontaneously strikes matsukawa. it might be one of the best ideas he's had in a while—the realization that himeko brings out his creative side more often than not quickly becomes an afterthought.

"actually, hime..."

her ears perk up, big eyes staring up at him. those big, doe eyes he has not learned how to say no to.

"i know something else you can color."

matsukawa was sure he saw himeko visibly light up when he offers his tattooed arm. he doesn't need to tell her twice. she expeditiously collects her markers off the ground—she's big enough to know that pencil colors won't be able to color in your skin!—and spreads them out on the sofa next to where both of them sit.

snuggled into his side, matsukawa has his tattooed arm around her as himeko starts to color in the tattoos from the ones on his forearm. "i'll make sure your arm looks extra pretty!" she exclaims excitedly.

"can you make it look as pretty as you are?"

himeko tilts her head to the side as she thinks of an answer. "hm... maybe. i'll try." the earnestness in her answer makes matsukawa chuckle.

as himeko continues, her inquiries about his sleeve don't stop. did it hurt? (just a little bit.) what's the meaning behind this one? (there's no meaning to that one. this one, however...) are you gonna get a tattoo of y/n? (i already did.) can i get one too? (matsukawa laughs awkwardly when he hears the last question, immediately changing the topic by asking her what her favorite color is. he doesn't want to get into trouble.)

the conversations tone down when himeko makes it halfway through matsukawa's forearm. he knows himeko turns quiet once she's focused. it's only when matsukawa feels her marker slip that he realizes that she has nodded off. making as little movement as possible, he closes the cap on the red marker that she was holding and puts it aside.

half an hour later, you tip-toe into your living room with the intention to surprise your boyfriend and your niece at heart. as you get closer, suspicions start to arise when you realize that it's awfully quiet.

wait, are they-

oh.

they are.

your heart blooms at the precious sight of matsukawa and himeko fast asleep on the couch. matsukawa's head is lolled back on the back of the sofa, his arms around himeko as she is curled up into his side. they look so comfortable and peaceful, soft snores coming out of the both of them with hideko's head rising up and down along with matsukawa's chest with every breath that he takes.

you just finished snapping a quick picture when realization sets in.

and no, it's not about how matsukawa has successfully won her over for good—that realization has set in a long time ago.

but it's realizing that you want to spend the rest of your life coming home to this sight. him dozing off on the sofa, waiting for you to come home, and maybe a child, or two, of your own curled up next to him.

vocabulary !

himeko is written like so: 姫子 in kanji. 姫 (hime) means princess, while 子 (ko) means child. mattsun's nickname for her is hime, which essentially means he calls her 'princess'.

#haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #matsukawa issei #mattsun #mattsun fluff #matsukawa fluff #matsukawa issei fluff #haikyuu fic #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu mattsun #mattsun x you #mattsun x reader #kiawrites

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moonwos · 5 months

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Gays (não tão) ocultos

･.｡.:*･ pedido de capa pelo proj. @flyhighpjct (12/12). Em caso de inspiração, dê os devidos créditos. Abra para uma melhor resolução, e bora de mais uma capinha de natal pra já entrar no clima 🎁

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gubboob · 11 months

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working hard? or hardly working.

a/n --> hope u like it :O) !! requests r open

tags: implied nsfw, mostly fluff, office worker husband

Every day, without fail. There was a brief moment when his warm breath tickled your neck, engrossed in each other's presence watching the sunrise. Your back against his chest, greeting the new day with kisses and gentle touches. Yet much like the sun, such times passed in a matter of minutes and you were both back to routine; he prepared for work dreading the time spent apart, while you started breakfast listening to your shared playlist, eyeing his figure as he buttoned his shirt.

When the time came to see him off, you two stood in the doorway, your hands making their way around his jaw to cup his face and wish him luck. Then as you adjusted his tie he kissed your forehead, mumbling about how he already missed you. You complained he’d be late if he did not leave now but he always got his way when it came to your touch. ‘(Y/N), you’re my good luck charm’ and he was right, the one time you forgot to kiss him, the day went horribly. He came home grumpy and even his workers noticed the shift in attitude. It felt like there was a storm cloud looming over them and you were the umbrella keeping them dry. Needless to say, ever since then you never forgot your goodbye kisses and always threw in an extra for good measure.

His average day in the office consisted of cheerful greetings to the receptionist announcing it was going to be a great day and a quick hello to all his workers, checking in on them and making sure everything was in order. His attitude was an indicator of the workload and with you on his mind, each day was a breeze. If there were lipstick stains on his face or a dopey grin, their boss became the most calmest and agreeable man on the planet. To the point where he allowed letting puppies roam the office to ‘boost morale’ just because someone asked when he was in one of his lovey-dovey moods.

The newer interns immediately learned they never stood a chance when your husband always made it abundantly clear you were his soulmate from the countless framed photos of you decorating his office, the candles you bought, and the couch you helped pick out. Everywhere he turned there was a memory of you, from the way his hands trailed your hips while you straddled him on the couch to the stolen kisses between meetings when you visited. Your husband made an effort to parade around his unconditional love for you. Unfortunately for the rest of the world but he was off the market and so were you. (Has he gotten a tiny bit upset when people stare at photos of you for too long because he gets jealous thinking they are now in love with you too? Because who wouldn’t see a picture of you and not feel their heart flutter and butterflies swarming their stomach? He was whipped)

He found himself blushing as the images of your body flashed through his head. Missing you always made him eager to go home. Knowing you were waiting for his return, probably sleeping, or watching a show after promising him you’d wait until was back to start it led him to fill with an immense warmth. He did not just miss you. He yearned for you. On days when he was particularly clingy his work was finished fast without mistake, and he’d rush home barely sparing a farewell. Though in a rush, he made a note to always stop at his favorite convenience store to buy snacks and anything else that caught his eye.

Through bated breaths, as you made out on the couch with a movie long forgotten, he narrated how he came to purchase the flowers now sitting in a vase on the counter. A florist had the prettiest bouquet and he just had to buy it for you. This was not the first, or last romantic gesture but knowing the thought of you never left his mind made you lovesick and you just could not keep your hands off him. The tie from this morning was tossed onto the coffee table, the white button-up revealing parts of his skin that had been covered in marks from the night before. Your eagerness drove him mad, and he knew it would be worth coming in late the next day.

KUROO TETSUROU, MIYA ATSUMU, IWAIZUMI HAJIME, OIKAWA TOORU, SAKUSA KIYOOMI, SUNA RINTARO, TANAKA RYUNOSUKE, MATSUKAWA ISSEI, DAICHI SAWAMURA, YAKU MORISUKE

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silverflqmes · 8 months

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໒⦂ 𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐏 𝐇𝐂𝐒.

notes. seijoh hcs if they were on the road together!

genre. crack

ft. tooru oikawa, issei matsukawa, takahiro hanamaki, hajime iwaizumi

gender neutral! reader. ( not rlly mentioned tho )

➫ 𝓞𝗜𝗞𝗔𝗪𝗔 𝓣𝗢𝗢𝗥𝗨 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ alright alright, he WANTED to drive.. but the vote went towards iwaizumi, and to double check they did rock paper scissors ( iwaizumi still won )

⌗ tooru was petty for the first thirty minutes, i mean it’s his car???

⌗ but eventually thought it was for the better! let him be on light duty while his subjects- i mean ahem, teammates, manage the car situation.

⌗ he does however, have control of the radio and has already plugged in his phone ( there goes one outlet ) to play spotify!

⌗ everyone complained at first but tooru’s music taste ate and left not crumbs because everyone was singing. even kyotani was nodding his head to some songs.

⌗ position wise, tooru is well, obviously in the passenger’s seat. what’s annoying is how far back he has his seat😐 and watari is like right behind him BUT SAYS NOTHING.

⌗ if the road trip is long, tooru however, will step in as a backup driver because poor poor iwa-chan gets so sleepy at night from having a NORMAL sleep schedule!! ( tooru doesn’t, this is why he has this job.. )

➫ 𝓜𝗔𝗧𝗦𝗨𝗞𝗔𝗪𝗔 𝓘𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗜 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ dude him and makki are ALL the way in the back in the makeshift seats in the trunk because they are menaces and were banned from being close to the front.

⌗ jokes on them, they can pull pranks from the back — like yk that thing where they pull the string and the headrest drops, yeah. he pulled it and makki pulled the other NUMEROUS TIMES. free the second and first years.

⌗ brought all the snacks and is gatekeeping them with whoever is closest to him ( makki, kyoken and kindaichi )

⌗ ROAD GAMES!! and songs or whatever ft his besti ( and totally not boyfriend ), makki

⌗ brings almost half his bedding with him to be comfortable where he’s sitting ( so real of you mattsun ) and if you’re not oikawa, he MIGHT share lol

⌗ honestly sleeps for a good bit of the ride, just feel like he would lol especially with the pillows and blankets.

⌗ reverse, some of the boys fall asleep on him bc he’s the tallest so there’s more of him to go around LMAO he’s just stuck between makki and kindaichi

➫ 𝓗𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗔𝗞𝗜 𝓣𝗔𝗞𝗔𝗛𝗜𝗥𝗢 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ matsukawa’s second half✌️🤟🤙🤝🤞

⌗ yeah he’s in the very back too causing chaos yk the usual ( annoying the shit out of hajime and tooru because they are the real parents uncles of the team )

⌗ he brought a load of pastries tbh but the minute they ran out he got a little delulu and thought yahaba ( who sat in front of him ) was a cream puff, and was ready to pounce LMAO

⌗ mattsun held him back from doing so, thankfully — seijoh needed its back up setter, pinch and future captain in case iwaizumi finally lost his patience and put oikawa out of commission.. or because oikawa has to graduate and go be a girlboss in the big leagues!!! so hot of him- ahem anyway

⌗ dude him, kawa and mattsun are that one meme where they’re like “DANCING IN THE MOONLIGHT, EVERYBODY, FEELING WARM AND BRIGHT” in the worst tone ever while iwa is just questioning his life choices

⌗ “are we there yet” every few minutes — iwaizumi literally pulls over at some point to get in the back seat and tape his mouth😭 bro was absolutely done oml

⌗ he brought a stack of cards only for them to be pokemon cards LIKE HOW DO YOU GET THAT WRONG- ( they played, anyway )

➫ 𝓘��𝗔𝗜𝗭𝗨𝗠𝗜 𝓗𝗔𝗝𝗜𝗠𝗘 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ the driver ( mother ) lol

⌗ free iwaizumi he is tired and has a severe headache from these buffoons and he swears blood will be shed if SOMEBODY dares to ask AGAIN for another rest stop or if they’re there yet.

⌗ he’s got a stash of yellow red bull in a compartment for himself in case he needs to take the night shift on the road — tooru insists that no one drives but him ( unless iwa finally throws in the towel and he drives )

⌗ in terms of driving tho he’s pretty smooth, goes at a reasonable speed and is fairly calm in terms of IDIOTS on the road — but he has his moments occasionally where he gets annoyed

⌗ probably has the super specific thing he wants to see that convinced him to go on this road trip and see it through to the end ( it’s something godzilla related i bet )

⌗ usually likes to snack while he’s driving, helps keep him awake — but since he doesn’t wanna get the steering wheel dirty, he has cherries his mom pack him LMAO ( “share with the others!!” and he gatekeeps )

⌗ packed a volleyball in the trunk and portable beach volleyball set up

notes. i was gonna do all the boys originally but it became time consuming and well.. i ran out of ideas LMAO hope it was still decent<3

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meowdarame · 2 years

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𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐤𝐞!!

pairings: dice’s dream 6-some x fem!reader (atsumu x iwaizumi x fem!reader x matsukawa x ushijima x tendou); no m! x m! interactions, only m! x f! interactions; afab!reader, she/her pronouns

synopsis: tendou brings the boys back together to celebrate your birthday. you thought you had seen the extent of satori’s playful antics, but this one takes the cake— literally. a sequel to three holes, two hands.

warnings: EXPLICIT CONTENT. 18+ MINORS DNI. 6-some/gangbang (but everything is consensual); mentions of food (a cake in specific, but no actual eating occurs); some bondage with rope (atsumu’s part); consensual nude photo taking; cum (lots and lots of cum!); thigh fucking; titty fucking; face/throat fucking; unprotected sex; pull-out method; creampie; cum swallowing; mild impact play (a few ass and tit slaps); overstimulation; mild degradation; lots of praise; please lmk if there’s anything that i missed! (there’s a lot going on in this fic!)

word count: 7.1k words

notes: a postponed installation for my birth month event! you can read this as a stand-alone but i recommend checking out the prequel to this, which is linked above. happy birthday to the sweetest boy ever and the love of my life, satori tendou <3 reblogs are super appreciated!

All you really wanted for your birthday was a custom box of chocolates from your husband’s shop, a bouquet of baby pink roses from the local florist, and a back massage that maybe leads to something more.

But after opening your front door and hearing the scuffling coming from further inside your house, you know that your husband has more plans for your birthday— a lot more, judging by the amount of shoes neatly lined against your wall that belong to unknown owners.

“Shh! I think I just heard the front door open! She’s home; everyone be quiet!”

Satori’s hushed whispers echo off the walls of the foyer of your shared home. After taking off your shoes and placing them on the rack, you follow the sound of your husband’s voice through the hallway, turn the corner to enter your dining room, and find a sight that you hadn’t seen in six months.

There, sitting silently around your mahogany dinner table, are the members of the “starting lineup” of your dream 6-some that happened almost half a year ago— an encounter that left your body sore and splattered with your husband’s and his friends’ cum. Your face burns hot when you remember the whole ordeal, but your husband’s sing-songy voice pulls you out of your dazed state.

“Happy birthday, my love!” Satori jovially raises both of his arms in the air, a playful and prideful expression plastered on his face; it fills up the entire room with a lighthearted mirth, alleviating some of the embarrassment that you feel in the pit of your stomach. Shaking your head and chuckling lightly to yourself, you trudge over to your husband and wrap your arms around his waist, enveloping his thin frame in a tight hug.

“Satori, you really need to start giving me a heads-up before you pull stunts like this. You know that I hate surprises,” you tease, lightly poking his side and causing him to let out a small shriek. Once his giggles fade, he turns you around and wraps his arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder. His lips are dangerously close to the sweet spot on your neck— so close that his warm breath tickles the shell of your ear as he softly pants.

“So what now, sweetheart?” He murmurs, his lanky arms squeezing your waist tighter as he continues on. “Would you prefer that I send them home? I could do that for you, if that’s what you want. But then you wouldn’t get your birthday gift…”

Your eyes scan across the room, drinking in the image of the four attractive men seated in front of you. Atsumu looks as gorgeous as ever, his soft platinum blonde locks shine like sunlight and pair beautifully with his lightly tanned skin. Issei and Wakatoshi look broad and brooding, per usual, but both men wear drastically different expressions on their handsome faces. Wakatoshi stares down at his neatly-folded hands on your table, but Issei’s eyes haven’t stopped scanning your body since you first stepped into the room. His raven irises travel up and down every curve and ridge of your body, making his lips curl up into a sly smirk and his dick jump in his pants. And Hajime— has he gotten bigger? You think that your eyes could be deceiving you, because honestly, you thought that it was impossible for your high school crush to get even more buff than he was since the last time you saw him. But with the way that his shirt clings so tight to his biceps and pecs— almost appearing like it’s second skin— you have no doubt in your mind that he did put on some additional muscle weight.

“I never said that,” you reply coyly. Turning your face to your husband, you plant a kiss against his soft, squishy cheek, making his ears tint pink. “I love the gift, but I’m just saying that for next time, give me a warning, babe.” The tips of Satori’s ears now burn as red as his hair at the implication of your words, and you bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing at Satori’s cuteness.

You bring your attention back to your esteemed guests, and sarcastically ask, “So what’s on the agenda for tonight, boys? I’m assuming it’s another one of Satori’s experimental trysts that he wants you guys to act out with him.”

Some snickers are heard from around the room, but they soon fade as Satori ushers you to the empty seat at the head of the table. A white pastry box rests ominously in front of you, and butterflies swarm in your stomach as you wait for one of them to speak.

“Tonight,” Satori’s voice breaks through the stiff silence. “We eat cake!” He cheers, gesturing to the box.

You scoff. “Is that some snarky euphemism for eating my ass, Satori?” You narrow your eyes at him, sizing him up, but his confident resolve doesn’t falter as he shakes his head.

“No, no,” he assures you and raises both of his hands in surrender. “There really is a cake in the box! Open it and see for yourself if you don’t believe me!”

Sighing, you reach out and pull the mysterious object closer to you. Shaky fingers gripping the sides of the cardboard box, you lift its lid and are met with a shocking sight— you.

At least, it’s a photo of you. Naked. On a cake.

You immediately recognize the picture as one that Satori took of you in post-orgasm bliss— you’re splayed out on your bed, his cum painting creamy white strings across your tummy. That night was definitely one to remember. You had received a promotion at your job earlier that day, and to celebrate, your husband had made you cum on his tongue three times and around his cock another four, congratulating you for being his smart and pretty girl.

The cake is cut into five even sections. The first shows your fucked-out face, a dopey smile spreading from cheek to cheek and hooded eyelids covering your lust-filled irises. In the next section, your neck, shoulders, and tits are printed onto the cake in colorful frosting. You’re pushing your tits together with your hands, letting your perked nipples peek through the gaps in between your fingers. The slice beneath it depicts your tummy, and whoever frosted this cake took extra care to make sure that Satori’s cum noticeably stands out against your sweaty, glistening skin. The fourth section puts your pussy on display, which is shyly tucked behind the plush flesh of your inner thighs. You remember instinctively pressing your thighs together when Satori took the photo, slight embarrassment pulsing at your core— the same feeling that’s overtaking your body right now. The final and closest slice to you displays your thighs down to your knees, and just from looking at the photo, you remember how badly your flesh stung for the next few days because of how hard Satori had bitten and sucked all over them.

“Satori,” you breathe out unsteadily as your mind begins to cloud with anger. “What the fuck?”

He places both of his hands on your shoulders, thumbs gently rubbing circles into the tight muscles. “Don’t you love it, sweetheart? You look so beautiful,” he sighs dreamily, overcome with admiration at the lewd image before him.

You ignore his question. “Satori, did you really send a nude photo of me to a bakery and have them print it on a cake?” Your voice is so low and calm that it fills the room with unease. The men uncomfortably shift in their seats, averting your furious gaze that burns a hole straight through the sweet treat.

“What? Absolutely not, my paradise!” Your husband frantically explains. “I’d never let anyone else see this side of you— it’s for my eyes only! Well, I guess it’s for their eyes now, too,” he rambles and gestures to the men seated in front of you. “Y’know, because they’re looking at the photo on the cake, b-but that’s besides my point!” He takes a few deep breaths to calm himself down before continuing on, “A friend of mine owns a bakery, and he owed me a favor, so I asked him if I could use his cake printing equipment!” He states excitedly, a toothy grin spread across his face.

“It took me all day yesterday and today to make it,” he admits, this time much more sheepishly. He stares down at his hands, fiddling with his fingers and pretending to pick at the imaginary athletic tape that’s wrapped around them— a habit that he picked up during his years of playing volleyball but was never able to break, even after almost a decade of not wrapping up his digits. “I wanted it to be perfect, just like you,” he murmurs, raising his eyes to meet yours. The corners of his lips curl upwards into a shy smile, and the genuine look on his face makes your expression soften. This adorable idiot really does make your heart softer than a sponge cake.

“Satori, I love it,” you grin, tears threatening to spill out of the corners of your eyes. “It’s a little ridiculous and bizarre, but what would my husband be without his beloved eccentricity?” You tease, taking his hand into yours and kissing his knuckles. “Thank you, and you did a wonderful job! I look amazing and so realistic! You know for a chocolatier, you’re really good at frosting cakes.”

He laughs at your joke, “Oh please, no need for flattery.” He waves away your protests with the flick of his wrist. “The printing machine did all the work!” He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead. “But thank you, sweetheart. I’m glad you like it.”

Your heart booms violently in your chest, and your body caves into the irresistible urge to kiss him. You wrap your fingers around his neck, pulling his face further down until your lips find his. Satori kneels down on the floor, trying to bring himself closer to you and settling himself in between your parted knees. He allows you to take control, letting your nails drag gently along his scalp and your teeth nibble teasingly at his bottom lip. When he grabs your hips and pulls you flush against his crotch, you let out a startled gasp, which Satori muffles with his mouth.

“Ahem.”

Your impromptu makeout session is interrupted by a cough coming from the end of the table. Turning your attention to the direction of the sound, your eyes are met with Atsumu’s blushing face.

“Ya know, I don’t mind watching,” the blonde starts, a smirk beginning to take shape across his lips. “But if y’all are gonna fuck in front of us at the dinner table, can I at least change out of these uncomfortable jeans? It’s kinda gettin’ tight down there.”

Satori chuckles and shakes his head. “Sorry, we just got a bit carried away.” He rises to his feet and helps you to do the same. “We should continue on with the festivities, though. My love,” he whispers to you with equal parts sweetness and mischievousness, making your pussy flutter. “It’s your birthday, so you get to do the honor of passing out the cake.”

You blink twice at him, confused by his words and still trying to process them. Knitting your eyebrows, you ask for clarification, “What do you mean? Like randomly or…” Your voice trails off, but Satori is quick to fill up the empty space again.

“However you want,” Satori answers, a devilish grin spreading across his delighted face. “You can do it randomly, if you’d like, or you can be methodical about how you pass it out. Either way, just give each of us a slice of cake.”

Hesitantly, you nod your head and obey your husband’s instructions. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

“Good,” Satori hums, pleased. He takes a seat at one of the empty chairs, and adds on, “Close your eyes, boys! And no peeking— it’s only fair that we respect the birthday girl’s privacy as she decides what she wants to do with her birthday gift.” The rest of the men follow Satori’s command and shut their eyes tightly, leaving you to stare at the daunting task before you.

His words reverberate in your ears and fester in your mind. “It’s only fair that we respect the birthday girl’s privacy as she decides what she wants to do with her birthday gift.” What could he possibly mean by that? Static clouds your mind as you try to search for an innuendo hidden beneath his words; still, you know that there’s no point in trying to decipher his cryptic message, especially not when you have five men patiently waiting to be served their dessert.

Your hands immediately fly to the cake knife and fork, picking up the slice that has the image of your pussy on it. Plopping the sweet treat onto a plate, you place it in front of Satori— it’s only fair that your husband receives the slice with the most intimate part of you. Next is the section with your tits, and you give that piece to Wakatoshi. You’ve known him the second longest, and he used to be a frequent invitee to your college sexcapades with Satori, so it makes the most sense to you to give him a slice with an overtly lewd image as well. The other three slices are assigned at random— Hajime receives your face, Issei your tummy, and Atsumu your thighs. The blonde setter’s smirk settles deeper into his cheeks when he hears the ceramic plate clink onto the table in front of him, and you know that he’s savoring every moment of Satori’s little game.

“Okay, everyone has a slice,” you announce, dusting your hands off. “You can open your eyes now.”

The men all lift their eyelids at the same time. You follow their eyes as they examine their cake slices. A mixture of reactions erupt from around the table— some of the men have flustered expressions plastered on their faces, cheeks flushed pink and mouths gaping open, while others wear a smug grin, chuckling lightly to themselves.

Satori is the first to speak. “I knew you’d let me have your pussy,” he pouts, faux sympathy dripping from his tone. “I know my darling angel so well.”

You open your mouth to speak, but Issei interrupts you. “Fucking finally!” He groans. “Last time I just got your hand, which I’m grateful for— don’t get me wrong. But I always wondered if you feel just as good as you taste.”

What the hell are they talking about? They don’t give you any answers though, as they continue to ramble on.

“I don’t know, boys. I think I won— I am a thigh guy after all,” Atsumu pipes in. He rests his hands behind his head and leans back in his chair, satisfaction riddled all over his face.

“I lucked out,” Iwaizumi murmurs underneath his breath. He looks like he’s in a state of shock; his jaw has been gaping from the moment he opened his eyes. “Can’t believe you really let me have your face.”

A hushed “thank you,” is all Wakatoshi says before you’re finally able to get a word in.

“What the fuck are you all going on about?” You demand, hoping that they’d finally fill you in instead of confusing you with their evasive responses.

“Sweetheart.” Your eyes dart to your husband, and he’s wearing his signature sly grin as he continues to explain. “The body parts on the cake slices that you gave us— that’s where we get to cum.”

Your jaw goes slack at your husband’s revelation. Honestly, you should have known his intentions from the beginning— him giving you a cake with your nudes on it, him making you serve each of them a slice, them being so excited after seeing what portion they received. All of these were little clues that should have filled you in on Satori’s twisted agenda for tonight, but you were too clouded with your preconceived judgments to be able to jump to that conclusion.

You thought you had seen the extent of Satori’s playful antics, but this one definitely takes the cake— literally.

“Satori,” you start slowly as you try to collect your thoughts. “This is…”

“Creative? Hilarious? Super fucking hot?” He suggests a variety of adjectives, but you reject all of them.

“Strange,” you conclude, before adding on. “But I’m down. You baked this beautiful cake for me, and you flew out all of your friends. It’d be a waste if we didn’t actually get to use my birthday gift, wouldn’t it?”

Satori runs his tongue along his bottom lip. “It would be a waste,” he coos, standing up from his chair. “So let’s get this party started.”

…

Everything is happening so fast.

In the blink of an eye, six different piles of clothes are scattered across your bedroom floor, and you lie naked on top of your plush bed sheets— your entire body bare and vulnerable from the wandering eyes that are quickly growing drunk off of the ethereal image splayed before them.

“Who do you want to go first, sweetheart?” Satori whispers in your ear, his cold fingers sending shivers up and down your spine as he drags them along your waist. You think through your response for a few seconds, before confidently replying, “I want Hajime and Atsumu to go first.”

“At the same time?” Satori asks, surprise evident in his voice, but his shock quickly subsides when you nod your head.

“I should have known,” he adds on, this time in a taunting tone. “My sweet wife loves acting like a stupid little whore for some good dick.”

His words should hurt, but they just amplify the heat that you feel in your core. Crawling over to the center of the bed, you get down on all fours and place your weight on your forearms and knees. You feel your slick sticking to the inside of your thighs as Hajime takes the spot in front of you and Atsumu kneels behind you, running his tip along your glistening folds.

“I’ve missed this cute fucking ass,” Atsumu praises, delivering a slap to the soft flesh. You let out a startled yelp, and he laughs. “Say, Hajime,” he adds, addressing his senior in front of him, “Why do we keep getting partnered up in situations like this? First time was that session six months ago, and now this!”

“Who knows?” The ex-ace replies, running his thumb along your bottom lip before forcing it into your mouth and pressing down on your tongue. “Maybe she just likes it when we fuck her together.” He shrugs.

His green eyes stare down at you, lust swimming in his sage irises. He bends down so that he’s only a few inches above your face, and whispers, “You’re really gonna let me cum all over your pretty face?”

You eagerly nod your head and suck around his thumb, mewling around the thick digit. The two men’s filthy words make your entire body tingle, and you begin to swivel your hips back to meet Atsumu’s shallow thrusts, pressing his length harder against your throbbing clit.

The pretty setter delivers another harsh slap to your ass. “Be patient, princess,” he chides, kneading the stinging flesh with his massive palm. “Ya made us wait while ya were passing out the cake slices, now it’s yer turn.”

“Satori,” the blonde calls out to your husband, and Satori’s ears perk up at the sound of his name. “Ya got any rope?”

Satori’s eyes flash down to meet yours, waiting for your confirmation. When you nod your head and let him know that it’s okay, he reaches into a bin underneath your bed and pulls out a bundle of red, silky rope. He hands the braided threads to Atsumu, who begins to unravel it.

“Keep those gorgeous thighs squeezed tight for me, doll,” the setter commands, and you press your thighs together as hard as you can. Atsumu begins wrapping the rope around your mid-thigh, twisting the silk threads around your legs several times for extra security. Once he deems his handiwork to be sufficient, he ties it off with a sturdy knot, leans back on his haunches, and admires his creation.

“Fucking perfect,” he breathes out, wiping the sweat off of his brow with the back of his hand. He leans down and kisses your asscheeks, then he slides his cock in between your pressed thighs. At the same time, Hajime taps his leaky cockhead against your cheek, forcing your attention back to him.

“Open up, beautiful,” he murmurs softly to you, before pushing his tip into your awaiting mouth.

“Fuck,” they both hiss out in unison, throwing their heads back and letting pleasure enwrap them. Hajime slowly eases his cock into your mouth, but Atsumu wastes no time, already building up his pace as he fucks into your thighs. His nails dig into your ass, squeezing and gripping onto the flesh as he pulls your body back to meet his thrusts. Hajime wraps his hand around the back of your neck, coaxing you to take more of him in until he bottoms out. It’s hard for him to keep your nose pressed against his trimmed pubes though, with the way that Atsumu is manhandling your body in pursuit of his own high.

“Atsumu, stop fucking hogging her,” Hajime complains, flashing the athlete an annoyed look, but the setter just laughs in his face.

“Just means that ya gotta time yer thrusts with mine,” Atsumu spits back. You can’t see his face, but you can just picture the sly smirk that’s settled onto his lips. “Ya don’t need to be so gentle with her— I’m sure she’d love it if ya fucked her pretty little throat ‘til it’s sore. Ain’t that right, sweets?”

You enthusiastically nod your head around Hajime’s shaft and hum, the vibrations shooting up his cock and giving him goosebumps. Looking down at you, his heart rate picks up when you stare at him with innocent doe eyes, and this image is what pushes him over the edge, allowing himself to give into his lustful cravings.

“You ready?” He asks, but you don’t even have time to respond. His hips fly forward into your face, sending his tip crashing against the back of your throat. A shrill scream gets caught in your throat, the muscles contracting and vibrating around Hajime’s tip. The brunet bites his lip to stop himself from cumming on the spot, and once he finds composure, he begins fucking your mouth. His trimmed, prickly pubes tickle your nose and chin with each thrust; his cockhead fills the entirety of your throat canal, forcing you to breathe through your nostrils. Tears threaten to spill out of the corners of your eyes from the lack of oxygen, but you do your best to try to blink them away— you don’t want your watery, blurry vision to obstruct your view of the gorgeous sight in front of you.

Hajime’s eyebrows are knit as he concentrates on matching Atsumu’s frenzied pace. A pink tint graces his cheeks and ears, and sweat trickles down his temple and neck, adorning the red hue that creeps up his torso. His biceps flex as he wraps his fingers around the back of your neck, pulling your face flush to his pelvis in rhythm with Atsumu’s offbeats. But the most beautiful sight are his intense green eyes— they’re fixated on the way his thick length disappears into your mouth, only to reemerge glistening with saliva from between your swollen, parted lips.

Everything feels so hot. They’re relentless, not allowing your body any time to recover from their staggered thrusts. Your arms and legs desperately want to give out, but you muster every ounce of strength left in your body to keep yourself upright. You concentrate on the pleasure that’s bubbling in your tummy to distract yourself from how tired you feel.

“Atsumu,” Hajime groans when he feels your throat constrict around him. “I’m close. How about you?”

“Same here,” the setter breathes out, his hips beginning to stutter as the knot in his core begins to snap. Atsumu leans forward so that his lips press against the shell of your ear, and he whispers, “Cum with us, doll. Bet ya want us to fill ya up at the same time. Don’t ya, beautiful?”

His filthy words force your euphoric high to collide into you, and your thighs shake uncontrollably as pleasure overtakes your body. Atsumu’s fucks you through your orgasm, his tip nudging your clit and sending sparks of electricity up and down your spine. It quickly becomes too much for you, and with all the strength in your body, you push yourself forward to escape from his overstimulation— leaving Atsumu’s cum to splatter all over the backside of your thighs and Hajime’s to shoot straight down your fluttering throat. Wide-eyed, you swallow his seed to the best of your ability, but some of it still dribbles down your chin when he pulls his softening cock out of your mouth.

“I said that you could cum on her face, not down her throat,” Satori calls out from your left. The brunet just chuckles and runs his thumb along your cheek and chin, collecting his cum and feeding it back into your mouth.

“I thought so too,” he hums, watching you as your tongue licks the thick digit clean. “But I guess tonight has just been full of surprises thus far, hasn’t it, angel?”

You nod, and Hajime pulls his thumb out of your mouth with a ‘pop.’ “Satori,” you start, voice slightly raspy and hoarse, “Don’t get mad at him. It’s my fault— I didn’t give him enough time to pull away.”

Atsumu chimes in from behind you, and you feel his large, calloused palms playing with his cum and spreading it around on your thighs. “Technically it’s my fault since I was a little too rough with her.” He leans down, littering kisses along your lower back and asscheeks. “I can’t help it, though— she’s just so, so good to me.” He emphasizes his words by pressing one final kiss to the small of your back before untying the rope’s knot, freeing your aching thighs from the uncomfortable position.

“Whatever, it’s fine,” your husband responds with a slight lilt in his voice, his bottom lip jutting out into a cute little pout. “It’s her birthday anyways, so I’ll let it slide.” He replaces Hajime’s position and kneels in front of you on the bed, bending down and planting a kiss to the crown of your head. Cupping your face and forcing you to look up at him, he asks, “Who’s next, my love?”

“Toshi and Issei,” you immediately reply, and Satori’s pout turns into a frown.

“Why do you always make me go last when we do these types of things, my love?” He mumbles, so quietly that only you can hear him.

“You always tell me to savor the sweetest parts at the end,” you whisper, even softer than Satori did. “I’m just following your advice, handsome.”

With your reaffirming words, that bright smile that you love so much spreads across his pretty features. “I love you. Did you know that?”

You giggle and lightly nod, “I love you more.” Gesturing your head to the other men who’ve begun to chatter amongst themselves, you add on, “Now go tell Toshi and Issei to bring their asses over here.”

When Satori leaves your side, you collapse onto the bed, lying flat on your stomach. You close your eyes for a split second, relishing this brief period of rest before your body is pushed to its limit once again. This moment is fleeting however, because as soon as you’re settled into the plush cotton of your comforter, a pair of large hands flips you over onto your back.

“Wake up, sleeping beauty.” Issei smirks down at you, his thick eyebrows cocking upwards. “We can tell you’re tired, so we’ll do all the work for this round— just take what we give you.”

A lazy smile creeps up on your face and you limply nod your head. “I appreciate that, Issei. You’re so generous,” you tease, running your fingertips down his arm.

“No need to thank me,” he cooly replies, placing one of your legs on his broad shoulder and wrapping the other around his waist. “You gotta save your energy for Satori— all of us know that we’re just warm-ups for the main event.”

Gripping his cock with his hand, he runs his fat tip up and down your slit, collecting some of your slick before pushing it through the first tight ring of your pussy. Your breath hitches at the intrusion, and Issei quickly removes his hand from his shaft and finds your clit, rubbing gentle circles to distract you from the stretch. You whimper softly when he slowly begins sinking himself deeper into you, and after a minute, he’s fully sheathed himself into your cunt, his cock nestled deep in your velvety, warm walls.

Mind hazy from all the pleasure, Issei speaks without thinking, “Yea, you definitely feel as good as you fuckin’ taste.”

You don’t even have time to quip back a snarky remark, because soon a set of toned, tanned abs comes in between you and the ex-middle blocker. Your eyes travel up Wakatoshi’s torso, and he looks down at you with a shy and soft look on his face— a stark contrast from his typically stoic expression. He straddles you, his muscular thighs resting on both sides of your stomach and his heavy cock leaking precum from his sensitive slit.

“Toshi,” you coo, collecting some of your spit onto your fingertips before wrapping your hand around his cock, giving it a few slow pumps. “Do you remember when you, me, and Satori used to do this back in college?”

The burly man chuckles lowly, taking your other hand and bringing it up to his lips. “Of course. How could I forget?” He breathes out, pressing a kiss to the inside of your wrist.

As you continue your conversation with Wakatoshi, Issei continues toying with your clit, swiping the swollen bud at an excruciatingly slow pace. The ex-middle blocker kisses your ankle, causing your next words to sound more like a whimper when they slip past your lips.

“Do you still think about those times, Toshi?”

The ace chuckles lightly to himself, scooting himself forward on your body to nestle his thick cock in between your tits. His large palms knead at the flesh, and he exhales a sigh when his thumbs run over your perked nipples.

“Yes,” he hisses out after spitting a glob of saliva into the crevice between your breasts. “I think about them a lot,” he admits, void of the shy demeanor he had earlier— his tone and movements exude confidence as he begins to grind his dick into your soft tits. You mewl as he squeezes them together, and lewd squelching sounds fill the room when he gets a decent pace going.

Once Wakatoshi is fully settled on your torso, Issei begins rocking his hips back and forth, continuing to languidly rub your clit with expert precision. His tip effortlessly grazes your sweet spot and kisses your cervix with each thrust, and he soon reduces you down to an incoherent, babbling mess. Your head swims with equal parts lust and desire, and your chest heaves as you begin to breathe erratically, doing everything you can to keep yourself from losing control.

“Missed these gorgeous tits so bad,” Wakatoshi growls lowly. He delivers a light slap to the flesh, making your body shudder upon impact. His dick throbs when you place your hands on top of his, aiding him in squeezing your tits together. You stick your tongue out, lapping at his tip with every roll of his body, and it makes him throw his head back and groan at the sensation.

“Toshi,” you mumble with your tongue still lolled out. “Cum for me, baby.”

His eyebrows furrow as his body lurches forward, his hips stuttering as his orgasm washes over him. Staccatoed grunts escape past his parted lips, and the sound makes your heart beat even faster in your chest. His thick cum oozes out of his slit in spurts, painting your tits with strings of creamy white. A glob of his cum sprays onto your tongue though, and the pink muscle eagerly retreats back into your mouth to swallow his slightly salty, slightly sweet seed.

Wakatoshi climbs off of your body and lays by your side, one arm resting under your neck with the other caressing your face. His soft lips press light kisses to your cheek and temple, whispering praises and sweet nothings into your skin. His eyes flicker down to your breasts, admiring his work; he pinches your nipple between his index finger and thumb, and when he lets go, there’s a sheen of his cum staining his skin. He feeds his fingers into your mouth, letting your tongue swirl around his thick digits to clean them off.

The ace replaces Issei’s hands with his, swiping your swollen nub at an abusive pace. Your back arches off of the bed, and your hands wrap around Wakatoshi’s wrist, trying to ground yourself. Your face contorts into a wince, your body still overstimulated from the previous round.

“Fuck her harder,” Wakatoshi commands, his olive green eyes intensely gazing at Issei’s handsome face. “She can take it— there’s no need for you to hold back. Right, darling? You said that you’ll take what he gives you,” he coos, pressing his lips against your temple and letting them linger there.

You nod frantically and open your eyes, eyelids drooping and vision hazy as you stare at Issei. With your consent, he reels his hips back so that only his tip remains in your fluttering walls, then sends them crashing forward, his balls loudly slapping against your ass. You gasp upon the sudden and harsh intrusion, but Wakatoshi kisses you hungrily, muffling your mewls and moans with his lips. You feel even more full than before, the only thought in your mind is how good Issei is making you feel.

Issei continues this slow and rough pace, his wet lips traveling up and down your ankle and leaving a trail of his saliva on your skin. You reach out to him, clawing your nails along his defined torso. Your fingertips don’t miss the way that his abs twitch under your touch, and you can tell that he’s close— and you are, too.

“Issei, please,” you pant out, feeling your orgasm looming over you. “Want you to make a mess of me.”

Wakatoshi pinches your clit, and with the shock sends you over the edge. Your walls clamp down around Issei’s thick cock, an off-white ring of your cream coating the base of his dick. Biting the inside of his cheek, he holds off his orgasm for as long as he can so that he can fuck you through yours. It quickly becomes too intense for him though, and he pulls out of your cunt to shoot his cum all over your stomach, mixing his seed with Wakatoshi’s on your sweaty, sticky body.

“That was fucking amazing,” the ex-middle blocker chuckles as he bends down and presses a kiss to your clit. Your body jolts at the action, and it makes his smirk spread wider on his pretty face. “Thank you for making me feel so good.”

You can’t tell if he’s talking to you or your pussy, but it’s not like you even have time to ruminate on his words— as soon as the two men stand up from the bed, a familiar pale, thin frame fills up your field of vision.

“Say cheese!” Your husband cheers, holding a polaroid camera in his hands. You throw your fingers up into a loose peace sign and smile, and your husband chuckles cutely when he clicks the camera’s shutter button. Once the photograph fully prints, he pulls it out of the camera’s slot and kisses the film.

“It’s not even fully developed yet but I already know that you look so sexy,” he sighs in admiration, his crimson irises fixated on the photo. “This is definitely going in my wallet.”

You laugh at your Satori’s silliness, and he leans down to kiss you. But before he can fully press your bodies together, your hand pushes back against his chest. “Wait,” you rasp out, effectively stopping him in his tracks. “I’m all sticky, ‘Tori. I can go wash myself off first, if you want.”

The redhead grabs your wrist and tosses your arm to the side, collapsing his body onto yours and smothering you with his warmth. “No need to, princess. You know I love it when you’re filthy.” His lips crash into yours, and all you can do is melt under his touch.

You wrap your legs around his waist, and your hand snakes in between your bodies to wrap around his cock. Rubbing his tip up and down your slit to collect your wetness, you mewl when his tip bumps into your clit. Your hand strokes his length a few times to spread your juices before he sheathes himself into you.

Satori whines when he begins to shallowly thrust into you, his desperate little whimpers fill your ears and shoot straight to your cunt. You bury your face into his shoulder, hiding yourself when tears begin to stream down your warm cheeks. He feels his skin quickly dampening though, and he pulls back to press his forehead against yours.

“You’re so beautiful,” he pants out, continuing to grind his hips into yours, his cockhead massaging your sweet spot with each movement. “I love you so much.”

“You’re even more beautiful, ‘Tori. I love you too,” you giggle in between sniffles. One of your hands runs through his shaved buzz cut, your nails gently dragging along his scalp, while the other wraps around the back of his neck, firmly holding his face inches from yours.

You swear that there’s no prettier sight on this earth than Satori’s eyes— they’re so rich in color, a gorgeous scarlet hue that rivals the finest rubies in vibrance. His eyes are always so animated, so readable, and you can see all of his emotions swimming in his irises. All the love, admiration, joy, and gratitude that he feels for you is carefully packed into every tender look that he flashes you, and you can’t help but wonder how you lucked out with such an amazing husband.

Your lips lock with his, your tongues dancing with each other and muffling each other’s needy cries. You pull away momentarily, a string of saliva connecting your swollen lips, and you press a kiss to the tip of his nose, making a pink blush creep up on his cheeks and the tip of his ears.

“I’m yours and only yours, ‘Tori,” you whisper, so delicately that only he can hear you. The sound of sweaty skin slapping against each other shelters this intimate moment from the rest of the world, and it feels like it’s just you and him in your bedroom. “Want you to fill me up. Want all of you.”

Satori shuts his eyes tightly as he cums, angelic moans filling your ears as he pumps you full of his cum. Your body follows him soon after, your walls involuntarily contracting around him and threatening to push him out. You feel so warm inside as he empties himself into you, both of you mumbling indiscernible I love you’s and thank you’s. As his hips begin to slow down, he begins to pepper kisses all over your face, his soft lips wiping away the tears on your wet cheeks. He pulls his flaccid dick from your pussy, and you flinch when you feel the heat seeping down your thighs. Rolling onto his side, he cradles you in his arms and cups your face with his palm, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“That was quite the show you put on for us, guys.” Issei’s deep voice pulls you away from your post-orgasm bliss, summoning you back to reality.

“Sorry,” Satori puffs out, chest still heaving as he tries to catch his breath. “We got carried away and kinda forgot you were all still in here.”

The ex-middle blocker throws his head back and a chuckle erupts from deep in his chest. “It’s fine. Like I said, we all knew that we were warm-ups for the main event.” He gestures to the other men sitting around the bed, calling them over to follow him. “Let’s give these two lovebirds some privacy.”

Issei turns his attention to you once more. “And happy birthday, gorgeous.” He winks as he opens the door for the rest of his friends.

As the men file out, you hear Atsumu’s hushed whisper of “Do you think that Satori would give me a copy of that polaroid photo he took?,” to which Hajime promptly responds with a slap to the back of the setter’s head.

“You’re really pushing boundaries, Miya,” is the last thing that you hear before the wooden door slams shut, leaving you and Satori to bask in the newfound comfort of silence.

“Satori,” you sigh as you bury your face into his neck. “Can we go shower? I’m all dirty.”

“We will, my love,” he assures you, gently patting the back of your head. “Let’s just savor this moment for a little bit longer.”

You hum as you nod your head, caving into your husband’s wish. You scoot yourself closer to him, shuffling around to find the most comfortable position, when a startled gasp interrupts your much needed rest.

“Oh! I almost forgot to give you this! Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

Satori sits up right on the bed and reaches into your nightstand, pulling out a custom box with all your favorite chocolates from his shop, baby pink roses that are in full bloom, and a red slip of paper that reads in bold, black ink: USE ME TO CLAIM A FREE MASSAGE FROM SATORI AND HIS MAGICAL HANDS. REPEAT USES AUTHORIZED. VALID UNTIL: FOREVER.

You chuckle when you see his gift, and you press a soft kiss to his cheek to show your appreciation. “How did you even know that this is exactly what I wanted?” You ask in between giggles.

His smile settles deeper into his cheeks, and interlacing his fingers with yours, he murmurs, “What can I say? I guess I just know my darling angel so well.”

taglist in a separate reblog!

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coracat · 5 months

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ㅤㅤ# (verde viadinho) por coracat ! ˖♡

🗒️日付 : 05/11, coracat escreve Deus com d minúsculo e assume ser fã do oikawa ao vivo e a cores no grupo do discord do @setnation.

ㅤㅤ# (sonho de padaria) por coracat ! ˖♡

🗒️日付 : 12/11, sonho com o dia em que o kuroo vai virar gente, tomar banho e aparecer na minha casa com um buquê, amém.

🎨 考慮事項 : artes oficiais de haikyuu. link das fanfics aqui e aqui.

#spirit cover #capa fofa #capa divertida #capa para fic #capa para fanfic #haikyuu cover #haikyuu!!#bokuto #kuroo #oikawa #iwaizumi #mattsun #makki #hanamaki #matsukawa #matsuhana #iwaoi #bokuroo

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spacejammie-eimmajecaps · 9 months

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Do you want to read a matsuhana fic?

What if it was a childhood-friends-to-lovers slow burn?

And what if it also featured an iwaoi childhood-friends-to-lovers slow burn?

And what if there were traces of kyouhaba enemies-to-lovers?

And what if there was a plausible (canon-compliant) excuse for the Seijoh 4 to meet and interact with the Tokyo 4?

Well, look no further!

Now, I know you're probably thinking that the description is vague and foreboding, which must mean this fic is full of angst and misery.

However, that's not the case!

Okay, yeah, technically there's angst here and there, and some characters certainly do feel miserable on occasion. Truth be told, you might even find yourself crying sometimes.

But you know what else you'll do?

Laugh. And smile. And experience fleeting moments of joy. And fleeting moments of impatience when you realize slow burn wasn't an exaggeration.

Doesn't that sound nice?

#do you love aoba johsai and wish you knew what it was like for them during those 3 years oikawa was so thankful for?#do you like your characters a little traumatized?#do you enjoy fics that are loaded with subplots?#does the idea of suffering through a slow burn bring you joy?#do you prefer fics that have excessive world building?#do you want to read a story and never be able to look at the main character the same way again?#if you answered yes to any of the above then you should definitely check this fic out #matsuhana #iwaoi #matsukawa issei #hanamaki takahiro #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #seijoh 4 #aoba johsai #kyouhaba #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fics #haikyuu ships

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kats-fic-recs · 6 months

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the yellow room

“I told you, we broke up like six months ago. We’re not dating anymore.”

Hanamaki eyes him suspiciously. “You live together.”

“Yeah, so?”

“There are pictures of you two kissing stuck to your refrigerator.”

Hajime shrugs. “That wasn’t my idea. Anyways, they’re good pictures. Good lighting.”

#haikyuu!!#hq #haikyuu fic #haikyuu #iwaoi #iwaoi fic #iwaoi fic rec #iwaizumi hajime #oikawa tooru #oikawa tōru #fic recs #ao3 #fanfiction #fanfiction recommendation #fic rec #haikyuu fic recs #haikyuu!! fic recs #hanamaki takahiro #matsukawa issei

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bleach-your-panties · 5 months

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🕑part of mine and @suyacho 's nnn. also part of #kinktobercandyshop'23🍭

❤️banner made by me in pic collage

🕑divider: chibiville via glitter-graphics

❤️warnings: 18+, mdni. mentions of funeral proceedings (not detailed), ROUGH sex, degradation, mean!dom matsukawa, forced cum-eating, sex in a hearse, mattsun makes a blasphemous statement

🕑3.3k words

❤️first time writing matsukawa!

▶️what's your fantasy - ludacris ft. shawna

▶️slut me out - nle choppa

Day Before Halloween…

If there was any week that Matsukawa hated to work the most, he would have to say that it would be the week of Halloween.

Some people must just have a sick sense of humor or just not care at all to decide specifically to have their loved one's homegoing on Halloween.

In a way, he could kind of see the novelty behind it. That didn't change the fact that he was pissed the fuck off at all this extra work he'd been given, though.

The family wanted all stops pulled out for this Halloween funeral. Blood-red, white, and black flower arrangements with skull and miniature white pumpkin add-ins, then orange and black flower arrangements with added gourds of varying colors.

"This shit is going to look tacky as fuck." Issei complained under his breath as his co-worker helped him move said flower arrangements to a more suitable position at the family's request.

"Might as well hang some fake fucking bats from the ceiling while we're at it."

Today was the visitation and, of course, Issei's boss had put him in charge of greeting the visitors and ensuring that the guest book was out for them to sign, and not to mention the flowers that needed to be placed exactly in the correct areas.

He could hardly keep up with all the tasks he'd been given to do and to do alone or with very minimal assistance.

Like the saying goes…when you're good at your job, you get to do your job and the other guy's job.

Once the flowers were set up, he swiped black ring-covered knuckles across his forehead to catch a trickle of sweat from running down between his eyes.

If it's autumn, why is it so fucking hot? It also doesn't help that he's required to dress in black from head to toe.

At this point, Matsukawa just wanted to get home, peel off these sweaty clothes, and take a long, hot shower. Maybe if he was lucky, you'd be off work by the time he was finished.

—-

His drive home was uneventful and even more drab than usual, but that changed when you decided to Facetime him as you were leaving the office. Olive-colored, upward-slanted eyes roamed over your figure as he watched you get into your car.

You were dressed in a pair of dark, high-waisted slacks with wide legs and a deep maroon, silk blouse with flowing sleeves. Hair and makeup done to perfection and jewelry matched to your ensemble so well that one would think you had a personal stylist.

Issei could feel his cock hardening through his pants. He could practically smell the perfume you always wore as his mouth began to salivate.

No doubt he was insanely attracted to you, but today something felt different.

With his constant workload, he'd been feeling so uptight and pent up, and since he'd quit smoking (at your request once the two of you had started dating exclusively), he currently didn't have any outlet to release all of that tension.

Your work schedule kept you very busy as well, so when you and Issei wanted to see one another, you both had to plan accordingly.

Because of that, you both haven't even had time to have a date night, let alone have sex.

"Hi, baby. You look tired. Still working hard on that Halloween-themed funeral for tomorrow?"

Your sweet voice filtered into Issei's ears, making his cock strain even harder against his now too-tight-feeling dress pants.

When he didn't answer for a long time and just kept staring, you had to check your phone to make sure that the app hadn't frozen.

"Issei, baby? Are you alright? Issei!"

The dark-haired man was still looking, lost in his own world. He'd even pulled his car over to the side of the road so he wouldn't get into a wreck.

He wants to ruin you.

He wants to fuck you so good and hard that your tears stream down your face like waterfalls and ruin your perfect makeup.

He wants to fuck you so hard that your perfect hairstyle falls out of place as he grips the beautiful strands between his thick fingers and pulls as hard as he can.

He wants to rip your blouse open, rip your bra clean in two and throw the discarded material over his head. Rip the buttons of your pants off, then yank them down and off of your perfect legs with the soft, cotton panties you always wear being his next target as he destroys those as well. Just to get to that wet cunt that always takes his huge cock so well.

He wants to ravage you.

Finally, he snapped out of his reverie when a semi-truck passed by on the highway, the wind from it making his car rock as he sat marked on the shoulder of the road.

"My bad, sweetheart. I just got distracted by how beautiful you look. My day was shit as usual, but that's no longer an issue now that I have your sexy ass in front me." He grinned that big grin that you absolutely love on him.

Your face immediately went hot and you coughed slightly to clear your throat.

"Always the charmer, you are." That angelic laugh of yours filtered through the phone speaker, making Issei's eyes almost roll into the back of his head.

"We should make plans to get together soon. It's been far too long."

Yes, it has. Far too long.

"Can do, sweetheart. My schedule should free up after the service is over tomorrow; then, you can have me all to yourself." He teased with a bite to that plump, juicy lower lip.

If it wasn't for workplace standards, he'd have gotten it pierced like you'd suggested the first time you two ever kissed.

With a very prominent blush on your face now, you giggled and nodded.

"Okay, I'll be sure to free up my schedule as well and make sure that we'll have no distractions." You sensually flirted.

'Oh, there'll be no damn distractions. I'll make sure of that.' Issei thought to himself.

—-

Next Day. Halloween.

"Yes, thank you for coming."

"So sorry for your loss."

"The funeral professional lineup will start at the driveway of the church, thank you."

Matsukawa had been back and forth all day long finishing up last minute details before the service had officially started at 3:00 pm.

He had been doing his usual duties that were required of him, mostly just ensuring that everything was prepared for the funeral attendees such as the guest book and even helping with setting up for the repast, which would be at the local community center.

While the funeral was in progress, he was making sure that any loose ends were tied up and that everything was just how the family wanted it.

"Whew, shit. What a day, right Matsukawa? I could really go for a drink and a cig right now. What about you?" His co-worker asked as they both sat down for a well-deserved break after the service completed.

"Mmm, yeah I could go for a drink, but I'll pass on the cig."

He waved a hand dismissively. The co-worker was about to protest and try to convince him when the sound of heels clicking on the floor made them both snap their heads around.

There you were, clad in a simple, black cocktail dress but you looked anything but simple.

Matsukawa's mossy green eyes stretched open to fully take in your attire: the dress had two thick straps holding it up, and, people always say that black makes you look slimmer, but that dress was fucking suffocating every curve on your body.

The slit up your left thigh was the last nail in the coffin. Issei knew that he had to get you out of here right now, before he ended up bending you over right in front of his unsuspecting co-worker.

"Baby…I was going to pick you up for dinner. It's only," he glanced at his wristwatch, "6:00pm."

You smiled big, making your cute little dimple pop out and your eyes crinkle at the corners.

"I know! I was getting ready, and…I was just so excited to see you that I rushed right over here, hoping you might be off of work already."

Oh God, you're so damn cute.

With your little hair done up in a cute updo, a few strands framing your face.

Your jewelry was simple, silver, and shining brighter than the stars in the quickly darkening sky.

Matsukawa had stars in his own eyes as he glorified your presence in front of him. Truly an angel standing right in his face.

And the demon inside of him couldn't wait to destroy every bit of the pure innocence that exuded from your being.

Without another word, he bit down on the middle of his lower lip, sucking the plump flesh between his teeth as he grabbed you by your toned bicep and began dragging you towards the back of the funeral home.

"Issei-? What's wrong, honey, are you-"

"Quiet." He grit between his teeth.

You immediately shut up - you knew what that tone meant.

With a small smirk, you let him roughly pull you along. Your stiletto heels clicked loudly across the linoleum floors in the empty hallway.

—-

yeah yeah yeah yeah

give it to me now, give it to me now

—-

The foundation of the funeral home was just about ancient.

It used to be a house belonging to a wealthy family that lived in the area a long time before either you or Issei were born.

The family that owned it decided to renovate it after their elder passed away and thus created your boyfriend's workplace.

It couldn't be denied that it looked a bit spooky, and supposedly the family's elder had passed away in one of the upstairs bedrooms.

But nevermind the lore, because the scariest thing that you would have to deal with right now would be Issei's impatience.

The tugging on your upper arm ceased once you both reached the back of the building.

Issei unlocked the back door with one of his keys and pushed it open.

The cool evening air rushed in and made the hem of your dress fly up a bit.

You were grabbed again by the arms and whisked through the doorway, a surprised yelp leaving your red-glossed lips as you were slammed up against smooth, painted wood.

"Can't believe it took this long for me to get my hands on you."

He murmured low in your ear, licking the lobe before trailing his tongue down your neck and leaving a slimy trail in its wake.

"Issei, oh…"

"Hmm, saying my name already, pretty girl? I've barely gotten started."

He pulled his mouth off of your neck with a wet suckle and reached to unbuckle his black belt.

Your little manicured fingers reached out and brushed against his.

"Let me, baby…I want to-"

"No. Hands off of me. On your knees."

He slipped the belt out of the loops and wrapped it around his hand before striking it against your chest.

Once you were on your knees in front of him, the heel of his shiny dress shoe pressed down on your lower back, making it arch.

You hissed as your knees scraped the gravel below you. Issei grabbed a handful of your hair to lift your head up.

His dick twitched in those tight dress pants when he saw your bright eyes shimmering with the beginnings of tears.

"Are you okay with this? Still remember the safeword?" He asked gently, stroking the belt's cold leather underneath your chin.

"Mhm, please Issei-"

"Issei?"

"Daddy!" You corrected hastily, "Please Daddy, been needing you for so so long…"

How could he deny his sweet baby girl?

With his hand cradling your chin, he took the belt and looped it around your neck, tugging hard to get you up on your feet.

A strangled gasp gurled from your lips, only making Issei smirk as he began leading you away from the lighted back porch of the building into the open garage where the hearses were parked.

All he had to do was pull open the door to one of them. Who would willingly crawl into one of these? Besides, all of the keys went home with the manager and employees at the end of the workday.

Issei shoved you inside and pinned you down. The hand holding your makeshift leash forced your head against the frosty window.

The distinct sound of rustling fabric made your brain rattle and cunt leak into your satin panties.

"Fuck, stupid fucking zipper!" He griped. No way he was being cockblocked by his own fucking pants right now.

"Aw, you know what. Fuck. It."

—-

i wanna get you in the back seat, windows up

that's the way you like to fuck

clogged up, fog alert

rip the pants and rip the shirt

—-

A sharp ripping sounded throughout the enclosed space of the car.

You promptly turned your head, which was a huge blunder on your part.

"Keep your eyes forward, whore. Who said you were allowed to look at me?"

Issei grabbed a hold of your hair, along with your belt-leash, and smushed your face back up against the window.

In turn, he palmed his heavy cock in his free hand. He'd ripped the entire zipper from its seam on the front of those ¥215,412 Prada slacks, but he wasn't worried about that right now.

His entire focus was on your wet cunt steadily soaking those teeny little panties, if you could even really call them that.

A rough hand groped the squishy flesh of your ass before smacking it hard enough to leave an angry red mark.

"Hmm, I don’t think I should be the only one to have my clothes ripped, huh Y/N? You can answer.” Issei remarked before spitting on his dick just to give it that extra lube so you could take him.

“Y-yes, Daddy…rip it up.” You whined pathetically, making him smirk.

In the next minute, you heard another ripping sound; Issei ripped your dress from the hem following all the way up the slit on your thigh, the panties soon following. They fell to the carpeted floor in two thin shreds of black fabric.

He jacked his dick with urgency, smearing pre-cum all over his hand before pulling you from the window to shove you into the corner between it and the seat.

"Fuck, you’re so wet. You like my big dick bullying its way inside that tight little cunt, unh?" Issei huffed next to your ear, encasing you with his larger body and rutting his dick right inside your pulsating heat.

Your arousal dripped around the length of his dick, lubing him up even more. Your combined juices created a lewd sloshing sound as he ground his hips into your backside, trapping you in the corner of the backseat with nowhere to run.

“Mmphh, mhmm..”

"Yeah?” He replied like he could understand your mumbling (he probably could).

His eyes narrowed farther into tiny slits as he lost his shit, your pussy gripping him like a vice.

“Shit, you're fucking creaming all over me. You wanted this just as much as I did, huh baby?"

He moved his lips from your ear to cover your mouth, slipping his tongue inside to stroke and suckle yours.

Saliva dribbled down both your chins. The entire neckline of your dress was soaked at this point.

Issei moved his lips then from your mouth and licked across your cheek until he got to your earlobe.

Up, up, up until the tip of his tongue was inside your ear and swirling around.

“O-oh…I-issei…hmmm..” You slipped up again.

SMACK!

“Wrong. What's my name?”

“Daddy…”

You didn't dare move to nurse your stinging cheek.

“Good girl…now stay right there while I take my pussy.”

Getting bored of the belt around your neck, Issei halted his rough thrusting long enough to free your neck.

“Don't get excited, slut. I'm not finished with you.”

He tugged your arms behind your back and looped the belt through them.

“Arch.”

So sweet and obedient for him, Issei could hardly believe how well he had trained you.

He planted one knee in the seat while he stood up in your pussy. He used the belt as leverage while pummeling your pussy, making the entire car rock.

The sounds of his dick getting stuck inside your tight, wet hole were no less than pornographic - even more so when he pulled his hips back to free himself from you before diving right back in like an Olympic swimmer.

“Oh God! Issei, please!”

“God? Why are you calling God?”

He didn't slow down his wild thrusting even though his own undoing was upon him. One arm slipped free from your confines, and you used it to push back against his abdomen.

You could tell he was close by how sloppy his thrusts were getting, but he wasn't about to stop. His dick kept slipping out of you, nudging your asshole and bumping against your clit.

“Might as well just keep on calling my name because I'm your God tonight, bitch. Move your motherfucking hand, haaah.”

“Mmm, I-Issei, I know you're close…cum in me, please Daddy…”

“I-OH FUCK!”

Whoever last used this car didn't close the door all the way, because the two of you went tumbling out into the cold, wet dirt below.

Luckily, a large flower garden was planted right on the side of the house next to the garage.

You unceremoniously face-planted into a fresh patch of begonias, the dirt still soft and rich.

Issei choked back a laugh and instead moaned - somehow the two of you managed to stay connected and the fall only drove his dick right up against your cervix.

—-

rough sex, make it hurt

in the garden all in the dirt

roll around, georgia brown

that's the way that i like it twerked

legs jerk, overworked

underpaid, but don't be afraid

—-

“Shit, shit, fuck! I'm cumming!” Issei groaned, his entire body beginning to shake with the force of his orgasm.

You thrust back against him, trying to hurry your own along while you coughed out dirt and red flower petals.

With a strained groan, you heard Issei finally come undone, but you felt a sudden…emptiness.

“W-what?”

A devious smirk covered said man’s face and instead of cumming in your pussy he had cum into his free hand.

“Still want my cum? Here you go, whore.”

He took his large hand and covered your face from your nose down, making you inhale and splutter through the warm, sticky mess.

His thumb, index, and middle finger stretched your jaw open before he leaned over your head to add his final touches - his saliva - to your soiled face.

Once again, he slapped your cheek and then rubbed it before carefully bringing the two of you up and turning you around to face him.

“First time you didn't end up using the safe word. Under that prim and proper facade you're an insatiable bitch.” He smirked and nuzzled the top of your sweaty head.

“What…what the hell was that for?! Why couldn't you just cum inside?!” You griped, using the back of your hand to begin wiping away his mess.

“Because, sweetheart, you kept breaking character, and it's Halloween. I'm on demon time.”

----

*ʳᵉᵇˡᵒᵍˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ 🫶🏽

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