#mattsun issei x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lovelyunholyc · 1 year

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better than i ever even knew

NSFW - MINORS AND BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

fem!reader. pet names (princess, sweetheart, pretty girl, baby), minor angst start but happy ending, confessions, frenemies to lovers, porn with feelings on feelings. multiple orgasms, oral (f! receiving), mating press, riding, unprotected sex, matsukawa can and will fold u like a pretzel. if there's anything i missed, pls let me know, enjoy :)

"something you'd like to say to me, issei?"

makki had fallen asleep on your movie night, and you'd excused yourself to use their bathroom, only to find matsukawa waiting in the hallway for you after. he's caged you in somehow, pinned you to the wall like an insect on corkboard, with nothing more than his commanding presence and a notably large hand to the wall beside your head. he looms over you, imposing.

like he always seems to be, only to you.

his face is mere inches from your own, his eyes dark, half-lidded like they always are - but there's something different this time, something deeper and a little more dangerous.

you can't help but watch his tongue dart out to wet his lips. they look even more plush and irresistibly pink from this close.

you've always wondered what they'd feel like between your teeth.

matsukawa snorts, eyes narrowing even further. "don't play coy, princess."

too stubborn to admit that the intensity of his gaze flusters you and clouds your mind too much to think of a witty reply, you avert your eyes and direct your focus on the hood of his jacket instead. "stop calling me that," you spit, at the strings of his hoodie, just as unwilling to address how his pet name for you has started to make heat bloom beneath your skin lately. he's been calling you that for years, and you used to find it endearing, used to blush for an entirely different reason when he spoke it.

now, it grates on your nerves.

it grates on your nerves how much you like it, how much you want him to call you that in other less than wholesome scenarios.

matsukawa hums thoughtfully, tilts his head in wonder. "what's gotten into you lately, hm? you've never had any problems with it before." he inches closer to inspect your expression.

you turn your head completely to avoid looking at him directly, so his gaze falls on the side of your face.

which might not have been the best idea, because it exposes the flush rising up your neck and to your cheeks.

matsukawa reaches up with his free hand and cradles your jaw, gentler than you expect. he traces the line of it with his thumb, making the back of your neck prickle pleasantly, stopping at your chin to move your head to face him. there's a tender sincerity in his eyes that you've rarely seen in him, all traces of the mischief prior completely gone, replaced with genuine concern. "are you alright?" his voice is nearly a whisper.

your mouth goes dry. the tension between you has morphed into something similar yet more profound, something that you're not sure you're ready to explore. you nod once, still averting your eyes.

"why have you been avoiding me?" he says softly, and if you didn't know any better, you'd think he almost sounds pained. "i miss you."

you think your heart stops beating.

so he'd noticed. you shouldn't have expected any less, really - you've been friends for years, you know each other like the backs of your hands.

you aren't sure when you'd started to want more from him. and concluding that it was unfair for you to expect that of him and not wanting to cross the boundary, the foundation you'd built as good friends, you'd started to withdraw. gradually, lessening your invites to him when it proved too painful for you to be alone together with him, making excuses when he extended the invite to you.

you aren't sure what it helped - it hurt all the same, and you couldn't help but feel bitter that you were in this situation, all because you felt things for him that you didn't think you should. bitter at him, though he doesn't deserve it - he's been there for you ever since you could remember - and bitter at yourself, for putting you both through it. and here he is, scorned even more by your distance too.

your eyes well up with guilt as you let his words sink in, and it's all you can do to blink the tears away before they fall.

"hey, i'm sorry, prin-" matsukawa falters, seems to catch himself, and it pains you even more how considerate he's being though you've been so cruel to him and hadn't meant what you said. "whatever it is, it'll be okay. don't waste your tears on me." oh, if only he knew.

he tilts your chin up to face him once more, swipes his thumbs gently beneath your eyes to collect the stray tears that manage to escape. you want to weep at how tenderly he treats you, how much it makes you want him even more, and he has no idea.

you can't help but scowl again. you hate how much you love him.

you grab his wrists and hold him away from you. "stop it, stop being so nice to me all of a sudden." your voice sounds thick with emotion even to you, and you hate that, too.

matsukawa's undoubtedly stronger than you, and he can undo your grip easily, but he doesn't. instead, that stupid, cocky smirk is back, sensing that you're nearly back to your normal, stubborn self.

but then he says something that turns your world completely on its axis.

"why shouldn't i be nice to the only person i've ever been in love with?"

his eyes are sincere, the most open and honest you've ever seen them.

you're frozen, unsure of what to say, how to process it, unsure if you're somehow dreaming. you drop his hands, but he takes yours again, the warmth of his palms in yours grounding you back to the moment.

"i don't expect you to feel the same way. i'll always love you as a friend, so please don't cut me out of your life." he squeezes your hands once, brings one up to his face so he can touch his lips to your knuckle, barely a graze of skin that leaves you wanting more, before letting you go. he shrugs, gives you a charming, lopsided smile, but you can tell he's trying too hard to be nonchalant. "don't think too hard about it. i'll leave you alone now, i'm sorry."

you catch the hem of his shirt on instinct just before he can walk away. "issei, wait."

he stops, but doesn't swivel back around to you. you can't help but wonder what kind of facial expression he's making. as it is, you can't bear to look at him, focusing instead on your thumb and forefinger pinching at the fabric of his shirt.

"issei...." it's then that you notice his hand closest to you is trembling lightly, and it makes your breath hitch. "are you serious?"

"i wouldn't joke about something like that," he says, and his voice is a lot softer.

"then....look at me and say it." you gather your courage to meet his eyes and tug him back, closer than he was before.

a tingle rushes up your spine when he fixes his gaze back on yours, and that infuriating, lovely little smirk is still in place. there's a soft intensity in his eyes that you've never seen before, and it makes every one of your nerves ignite.

"i'm in love with you, dummy."

the sudden rush of emotion makes you surge up to capture his lips. finally.

it surprises him, you can tell, but he only stands frozen for a tenth of a second before it seems like he's awoken and his lips are moving in kind, kissing you back in short bursts, hands finding your waist, until you deepen it and nip at him to slide your tongue into his mouth.

matsukawa chuckles lightly against you, you can feel his lips widen into that lopsided grin, and he nips right back at you before you pull away to breathe, a dopey smile undoubtedly parting your lips.

"i like 'princess' better," you tease between heavy breaths, pressing even closer to him so he can kiss you again. the feel of him, the taste of him, the warmth of his body against yours, is better than you could've expected, and it's so dizzying, you feel like you're floating when he wraps his arms around you and kisses across your face, down your jaw and throat.

matsukawa pulls back barely an inch to look at you and marvel at how pretty you look, the happiest he's ever seen you when just moments before you'd looked like you were on the verge of tears. he grins crookedly, wholeheartedly pleased. he doesn't think he's ever been happier than in this moment, either. "so you like me too, huh?"

you shake your head, let him back you up against the wall again so he can press your hips together easier, one of your legs automatically wrapping around his waist to make more room for him. "issei, i love you." it comes out so naturally, yet so abrupt, like soda shaken up in a bottle.

he groans against your neck at the admission, shifts back up to your face so he can kiss you fully, passionately, greedily. he steals the breath from your lungs, and you can only moan into him, arch into his hold and beg for more, more, more.

you've had a taste, and you're entirely sure you'll never be able to get enough.

you rock against each other, fingers roaming, pulling and pressing, and you think you might be losing your mind in the best way. matsukawa touches you so gently yet so firmly, as if he doesn't want to hurt you but needs to remind you he's there, breathing you in and taking everything you have to give.

you sigh against the side of his jaw, a grin tugging at your lips when you feel his thick fingers drag up your thighs to knead at the flesh of your ass. "take me to bed," you murmur into his skin, and the way you're looking at him, up through your lashes, eyes hooded and swimming with lust as he grinds you down on his thigh, is enough to drive him wild.

matsukawa blinks, mirrors your grin. "fuck, of course, princess."

you're so pleased to hear him call you that again, you kiss it right out of his mouth.

his bedroom is approximately five steps away from the hallway where you are, but it takes you several minutes of stumbling and giggling quietly to navigate it successfully, too caught up in each other to move productively. you're in your own little world, each happily engulfed in a trance that the other has cast on you, only made more intense with each lingering, greedy touch, each kiss, pulling and pushing like magnets.

when you look up again you're on your knees at the edge of matsukawa's bed, helping him out of his hoodie. true to form, he's not wearing anything underneath it, and though you've seen him shirtless dozens of times, it gives you pause.

it's different this time, this close, finally able to touch him the way you would've liked to for so long. this close, with the intensity of his half-lidded gaze on you, following your every move, inspecting your every expression.

"don't be shy now, sweetheart," matsukawa murmurs, and on instinct you cut him a look, which immediately softens when he takes your hands and places them on his chest.

"pretty," you can't help but praise as your hands roam, over the rippling muscle of his chest, his abdomen, coming back up to pinch playfully at his nipples as you catch his lips again in a searing kiss.

"speak for yourself," he says as he backs you into the middle of his bed, trailing his barrage of kisses down your neck, nipping and licking as he goes, making you gasp and whine at the sensations. long fingers slide beneath the waistband of your pants to squeeze ruefully at your ass, the cool metal of his rings making you shiver. he pushes you against his hips, where you can undoubtedly feel his sizable bulge - you can't help but try to grind into the heat of it, and you can feel his lips widen against your skin in response.

you do your best to shimmy your pants down your legs despite him being between them, and he couldn't be happier to help you. he hardly detaches from you as he slips them off and throws them to the side, then pauses to ask your permission before tugging your panties off too, with your enthusiastic 'please'. he doesn't have to ask how far you want to go, sensing how meaningful it must be after so long of pining over each other, because you pull him back to your lips and whisper, "i want you, issei, please," and he swears something else entirely comes over him and drives him wild.

matsukawa no longer has the patience to take the rest of your clothes off, kissing quickly down your body over your shirt to slot himself between your legs. he presses his lips along the inside of your thighs, placing your legs across his shoulders. he groans when he sees how wet you are, when he slides an experimental finger through your folds and a string of your slick connects him to you even when he pulls away. you gasp and arch your back lightly at the contact, fingers clutching at the sheets beneath you.

"such a pretty pussy," he praises, eyes glazed over with lust and pure hunger as he continues to watch his fingers tease you, smacking his lips when he licks them clean and takes his rings off. "just like the rest of you, hm?"

"'sei, please don't tease," you mumble breathlessly, anticipation making your voice tight.

"ah, you've waited long enough, haven't you, princess?" his words alone make you shiver, but then he trails wet kisses closer to your core and you want to cry out. "well, i have, too, and i just want to savor it, you know?" he says it casually, as if he isn't dangling your pleasure over you between those pretty fingers, as if he isn't so close to where you need him that the heat of his breath across your skin as he talks is making you squirm in his hold.

just before you can whine and pull at him in impatience, he chuckles and finally ducks his head to taste you directly.

you gasp when his warm tongue slips through your folds, gathering up your slick for him to swallow up soundly with a satisfied hum that makes you shudder. he finds your clit almost instantly, circling it with the very tip of his tongue and making you buck your hips involuntarily before he's pulling back, just to smile smugly at you.

you don't think he's ever looked better than with his curls mussed by the grip your fingers have them in, his eyes hooded and all sorts of ravenous, his chin glistening with your slick.

matsukawa licks his lips, bites lightly at the flesh of your thigh. "you taste better than i could've imagined," he admits, voice gruff and sending tingles down your spine.

that makes you laugh breathily, only for it to fade into a delicious little moan when he dives back between your legs.

matsukawa eats you out with the same intensity, the same deep, intensive passion, as he had when he finally had the opportunity to kiss you fully, and you don't have to wonder if he'd been waiting to do this, too. his tongue slides into your entrance, coaxing out more of what you have to give him, so deep that his nose nudges your clit and makes you whine. he alternates between sucking wet kisses and messy licks all across every part of your needy pussy, intent only on tasting you and applying pressure, making more and more of a mess that he then happily licks up, and when he isn't satisfied with just that, he pushes his fingers into you, pleased when you can take both digits so quickly, one after another, and grazes his teeth gently along your sensitive bud in wordless praise.

you're gasping his name seemingly endlessly, as if it's the only word you know, your mind all but blank except for thoughts of him, pulling and tugging at the roots of his hair, making him groan into you, the vibrations of his deep voice only fueling your ecstasy. all too soon, you feel the bubble of pleasure in your gut near bursting. matsukawa seems to sense this, and curves his fingers as he thrusts and brushes right into your sweet spot, simultaneously lapping at your aching clit before wrapping his lips around the swollen bud and sucking, hard.

you fall over the edge so abruptly, your vision whites out. your body seizes up, back arched away from the bed, thighs squeezing around his head, a final cry of his name on your lips as pleasure overtakes you.

matsukawa doesn't stop pumping his fingers and licking at your clit. even as your body instinctively wriggles away from sensitivity, he follows you, his mouth riding the waves of your pleasure, the rhythmic grind of your hips, loves the way your walls pulse around his fingers, the way you spill into his palm. he laps up everything he can, only pulling away when you stop moving to watch with wonder as your pussy throbs around nothing in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

he chuckles when he sets your legs back down on the bed and gets a good look at you. "god, you're so fucking beautiful," he says, taking a moment just to stare at you, all wrecked and messy and gorgeous, panting in the middle of his bed with your shirt all askew and exposing your soft stomach, cheeks ruddy and eyes watery and face all fucked out, but a lopsided smile tipping at your lips. it only widens when your lidded gaze follows his hand, still wet from you, as it slips beneath the waistband of his pants, and undoubtedly fists at his cock.

"kiss me," you demand, barely a whisper, and it makes his cock throb in his hand.

matsukawa could never deny you. he surges forward and kisses you, moans into your mouth when your nimble fingers meet his beneath his pants and squeeze at his dick. you hum at the taste of yourself on his tongue, lick it off his lips as you thumb at his slit, share a lopsided grin that he then kisses off your face.

he lets you push him down on the bed then, raises his hips so you can ease his pants down his thighs and off and - he isn't wearing anything underneath that, either, and it doesn't surprise you, but makes you laugh.

when you look up at him again, you nearly salivate and come close to cardiac arrest all at once.

matsukawa's looks have never escaped your notice. as long as you've known each other, before you were even attracted to him, you'd known it as a fact that he was attractive. it was all too easy for him to develop his confidence, just cocky enough not to be completely arrogant but made even more attractive. tall, dark, handsome, and even worse - annoyingly witty - you often wondered how you'd not only harbored feelings for so long, but tolerated him enough to be friends for even longer.

you know him inside out, know him better than most.

but this, this is entirely new to you, though you most definitely see it as a positive now that your relationship has developed.

"issei," you swallow, "you're...big."

as if in response, his cock twitches where it rests against his abdomen, heavy and intimidating, though the swollen tip is leaking invitingly with precum.

matsukawa laughs, and you can't help but watch the way his abs contract with it, his skin glistening with how much he's dripped onto it. "you don't have to take it all, princess." something warm laces through his chest at the fact that you don't seem the least bit daunted, and instead look like you might start drooling. your gaze doesn't stray when he strokes himself once more, mesmerized.

you lick your lips without realizing it. "no," you correct, holding his gaze once more as you reach out to touch him fully, "i want you, issei, all of you."

he doesn't think he's ever heard anything more seductive in his life, more enticing. at that very moment, he thinks, is when he falls irreversibly, as if he wasn't in enough trouble to begin with.

your hand doesn't close around the base of his cock all the way, a fact that makes you shiver. matsukawa watches you closely, eyes glinting with unabashed lust, tongue darting out to lick his lips when you pucker yours, letting a dollop of spit land on the head of his cock. he curses under his breath, clearly barely holding himself together, and an addicting surge of power thrums through your veins.

you use your spit to aid the slide of your fist, up and down his shaft, pausing at the head to thumb at his slit, bending just to press a chaste, although wet, kiss to it before stroking your hand back down, squeezing at the base of him once more.

matsukawa tuts when you pull away. "princess, don't tease me if you don't want me to tease you, too."

you shrug coquettishly, your smile dripping with faux innocence. "it's only okay if i do it, baby."

his grin is nothing short of predatory. he all but pounces on you, grabbing you by the hips and shifting you back onto the bed so he can hover over you.

matsukawa disposes of your shirt so quickly you barely register it happening, and his mouth latches on to your chest instantly, big hands kneading at your breasts as his tongue swirls around your nipples, taking care to lave at them both and suck biting kisses into the swell of your chest. you whine in satisfaction, back arching instinctively to press more of your body into his needy touch, fingers raking through his soft curls only to encourage him.

one of his hands diverts and makes a path down to your stomach, until he's cupping your mons, grinning wickedly when he's reminded of how wet you still are.

matsukawa raises his head from your chest just enough to speak, his breath ghosting over your skin and raising goosebumps. "i'll take care of you, princess," he promises, voice strained. "i'll go slow, get you nice and ready for me."

you make to roll your eyes and tell him to get on with it, but then his fingers slide through your slit once more before slipping back in, with minimal resistance due to his previous work, and you have to bite back a moan instead.

it makes him chuckle, and he sits back on his haunches, gravity pushing you into his lap, thighs spread across his, opening you up to him completely. you can feel his dick brush against the inside of your thigh and can't help but shiver. his free hand glides along your skin appreciatively, squeezing at the supple flesh of your thigh, other fingers still massaging at your walls, scissoring in and out and stretching you wide for him.

matsukawa whistles quietly then, and you cut your eyes at him only to see him eyeing you hungrily and licking his lips. "shit," he murmurs low, dark, and fascinated. "you're gorgeous." he fixates on your pussy, how you suck his fingers in so sweetly, clenching around him as if you want, need something more. "look at you, so needy." and god, did he have exactly what you needed. "my fingers aren't enough for you, huh?" the tips of his fingers nudge into your sweet spot, making you gasp and instinctively grasp his wrist, and he only laughs lowly, doubling down and thumbing at your swollen clit, delighting when you squirm and whine at him.

"i'll give it to you, baby," he says, his voice so soft it almost sounds like he's thinking out loud rather than talking to you. his fingers part from you and he bends to kiss the center of your stomach in a strangely wholesome gesture, then pulls back to press your hips together, his shaft sliding enticingly through your slick, parting your folds. "i'll give you everything."

"o-oh, issei~ !" you keen at the new contact, walls clenching around nothing and what you want most nestled snugly between your legs, so close yet so far.

matsukawa presses himself against you, eyes practically sparkling with glee as he plays with you, as he watches your pretty pussy get even messier, coating his cock as he continues sliding it across you. the swollen head of it catches on your entrance, and he knows the whine you let out at that will be replaying in his head for weeks. he readjusts his grip on your thighs so he can direct your body better, firm though you're squirming so much he has to kiss you over and over in a futile attempt to soothe you (he doesn't think either of you care if it works, just too blissed out and caught up in each other and enjoying every second). when he moves his hips again, he makes sure to brush right against your clit with his cock, an easy feat with how thick he is, and groans into your mouth when your hand snakes between you to keep him there, your hips writhing beneath his, trapped between him and the mattress.

when you break away from his mouth to speak, dazed and pretty, a string of saliva connects you only for him to lick it up greedily. "i need you, issei, please," you nearly beg, thighs squeezing around his hips as if to punctuate yourself. it's music to his ears.

for as much as he seems to be falling apart at the seams, he still has the energy to tease you. "what do you need, princess?" he teases too at your fluttering hole, one large hand guiding his tip to nudge against it, just barely, only for him to shudder at how quickly and easily he can seem to sink into you.

still, he waits right there propped up on an elbow to look directly at you, chest to chest, your arms wrapped tightly across his back and legs spread wide against your bed.

you look like you're on the verge of cursing him out, but oh, he loves it, he loves you, loves that look you get when you're frustrated with him and now that he knows - frustrated but so in love it clouds your supposedly menacing gaze.

you raise one leg up to wrap loosely across his hip and pull him towards you, gasping when it shifts him just that tiny bit with the friction you so desperately need. "please, 'sei," you breathe, softer than anything, and who is he to deny you when you ask so nicely, with that stubborn yet lovestruck look in your pretty eyes?

"sorry to keep you waiting, princess." he says seriously, breathless and just as desperate, pressing his forehead to yours, noses touching together. he taps at your clit just to make you jolt, chuckling at your warning call of his name, before positioning the head of his cock at your entrance once more. "are you ready for me?"

you nod vigorously, managing to breathe out a frantic "yes, yes, god yes," just before his swollen tip sinks into you. your sharp gasp at the stretch makes him bury his face into your neck as he waits for you to grow accustomed to his girth, and he kisses and nips at your skin patiently.

you clutch him tight to you, muscles relaxing slowly with every touch of his lips on your skin, the soothing praise he whispers melting into you as your body molds to his.

"more," you plead after a moment, "more, issei- !"

matsukawa kisses his way up your jaw so he can watch your face again, brushing away hair that's stuck to your dampened forehead so he can see your eyes clearly. "i've got you, baby, you're taking me so well," he inches himself in with a hiss, your walls practically sucking him in, warm and wet and seemingly perfectly molded around his length. "anything you want, it's all yours." he shifts his hips away a bit just to push back in, and with one fluid stroke and a sharp moan escaping you, he's fully sheathed. he kisses across your open mouth, cradles your face with one hand and all the tenderness in the world cupped into his palm. "it's always been yours. i've always been yours."

his words aren't lost on you. staring intently into his eyes, your own start to well up with emotion, and he nudges his nose into yours with a quiet chuckle. you reach up to caress his cheek, heart swelling at the sincerity sparkling in his eyes, the warmth from him that seeps through your entire being and bubbling into pure, unadulterated happiness.

you tilt your head to capture his lips, indulge in his kisses until you're breathless.

when you part for air, it's you who laughs quietly, fingers stroking absently through the soft black curls of his hair. "we could've done this so much sooner," you lament, grinning when he graces you with another swift kiss before pulling back further.

matsukawa smiles, large palms gliding along your thighs and pressing into the plush playfully until he reaches the back of one of your knees and pushes it up against your chest. "trust me, princess," he says with a cocky gleam in his eye that makes you tingle, hips winding back simultaneously as he raises up minutely, "we've got all the time in the world to make up for it."

you're aware of how active he'd been before this, how your mutual friends seemed to speak about him as if he were some kind of sex god, though he'd never disclose any details - but you don't think anything could've prepared you for the depth of his prowess.

matsukawa starts slow and deep, hips rocking rhythmically and drawing back, the pressure and thickness of his cock seeming to reach every sensitive spot inside you. his eyes are glazed over with desire and the overwhelming pleasure you're giving him, but he's somehow still keen on your own pleasure, attuned to your every reaction, every satisfied little sound you make, every clench of your tight little cunt. he observes what you like, what seems to drive you most crazy, gasping and whining and writhing against him, and all but abuses them - nudging up against your sweet spot with the swollen head of his cock, grinding his pelvis intently into your puffy clit, licking at your throat, nipping at your chest.

you reward him with the most beautiful sounds, the sweetest pulls at the roots of his hair that make him fuck into you even harder, his hips moving on their own to drill you down into the mattress, pressed chest to chest with one arm hooked around the back of your knee to keep you opened up for him.

"oh my god, issei," you finally manage when he lets you breathe, panting against his cheek as he peppers kisses across your face all the while.

"feel good, princess?" his voice, smooth yet just the right kind of raspy, breathes right against your ear and makes you shudder pleasantly, arching further into him as his hips press back down. he pulls back a bit to admire you, how beautiful you look all dazed and fucked out, brows furrowed and mouth agape with how good he's making you feel, how you seem to instinctively reach back out for him every time he shifts away even the tiniest bit. at his prompting you nod furiously, seemingly lost for words.

he can't really blame you, because he chooses that moment to rub at your poor, sensitive clit with the rough pads of his fingers, relishing at how your back arches off the bed and you practically claw at his arms.

matsukawa's grin is sinister, teeth bared as he pauses, pulls his hips back a bit to sit back on his haunches and readjust you as if you weigh nothing, hands squeezing appreciatively at your flesh before he positions both your legs over his shoulders once more. "god, i'm gonna fucking ruin you," he bites out, placing a sweetly contradictory kiss to one of your thighs, "gonna mold this pretty pussy to the shape of my cock." he slides his fingers through your folds for emphasis, brushes up against where you're connected and groans at how wet you are, how his digits come away dripping so nicely. "like no one else can, princess." he doesn't miss the way your cunt clenches deliciously around him at his words.

he loves that you can still smirk stubbornly right back at him even in your position folded underneath him. "i'm gonna ruin you for anyone else, too, dummy," you say slyly, reaching up to pull him down to you by the nape of his neck, sighing dreamily when he indulges you with another breathtaking kiss.

he can't help but chuckle, knowing that it's more than true - you wrecked him long before he was even inside you and tasted heaven on your tongue and encased in the sweet velvet of your walls. and he's more than impressed with how eager you are for his mouth despite the awkward angle pushing your legs to your chest in a way he's sure can't be comfortable.

when his dick slides all the way back in to the hilt at this angle, you both gasp at how much deeper it seems, the head of his cock nudging right up against your cervix.

"ohh, fuck, pretty girl, i could die right now you're so fucking perfect," he breathes, like the air has been punched from his lungs, because you're swallowing him right up so perfectly, so snugly, and the base of his cock is rubbing right up against your clit and making you mewl nearly every time he thrusts in. his fingers weave between yours and pin them to the mattress, similarly to how his hips shove yours down into it, steady and unbelievably precise, and the room fills with the obnoxious noises of wet skin slapping against wet skin and the obscene squelch of your cunt sucking him in.

you giggle breathlessly, let go of one of his hands to clutch at the roots of his hair, tilting his head up from where his gaze had been locked on the mess between your bodies so he can look at you instead. "don't die before you make me cum again, issei."

matsukawa swears his heart palpitates at the cocky little smile on your face. you really are perfect - you look like a gorgeously lewd, perfect little angel, dazed and splayed out so delicately in his bed, tits bouncing with every purposeful thrust of his hips, your heavensent, divine pussy sucking him in so perfect, perfect, perfect. that word was made for you, he's so sure of it.

"of course not, angel," he simpers, licking his lips as his gaze rakes over your body. "how many can you take, hm?" one hand still laced with yours, he parts your lips around his dick with his free hand, grinning ruefully when you can only whine instead of answering his question.

he hadn't expected you to, anyway.

matsukawa continues to tease your body and relish in your sweet reactions, never breaking the brutal yet constant pace of his hips thrusting into you. he presses a heavy palm down on your lower stomach and groans from deep in his chest when you clench so nicely for him, whining at the new sensation. "you can feel me there, huh?" he hovers over you, your legs still hooked haphazardly across his shoulders, and kisses at your chest in approval. he marvels at how deep he truly is, carving his cock into you and building up your pleasure and his with every purposeful rock of his hips. he feels goosebumps rise on his skin at the primal, fleeting thought of fucking you full, fucking a baby into you, making you beg for it, needy and desperate. "i fucking love you, baby, taking me so fucking well." he isn't sure he's making much sense, but something comes over him with the sheer bliss he's feeling, and he can't stop talking - and you seem to absolutely love it, keening at every meaningless babble as if his voice is laced with the most addictive substance.

eventually he moves his hand down from your stomach to toy with your poor, puffy clit, smearing your combined juices all along the little bundle of nerves and rubbing vigorously. "cum all over my cock, princess, give it all to me," he all but growls, hips still moving as if on autopilot as he focuses all his attention on your pretty face, intent to watch you come undone.

your jaw locks and a silent scream escapes you as you tip over the edge once more, overwhelmed with pleasure as your orgasm crashes through your body, head to toe. when you have enough air to gasp into your hungry lungs, you can only breathe out a chorus of his name, clutching at his hair and the sheets beneath you, writhing against the mattress with every wave of pure bliss that rolls through you.

matsukawa fucks you through it, dutifully, eagerly. he nearly melts at the happily dreamy look on your face, the charming pinch of your brows and your mouth hanging agape just to chant his name and spur him on - and not to mention, the devastating flutter of your cunt around him, the pulse of your walls pushing out your wetness to coat his cock, the sweet glisten of the skin between your thighs and his shaft.

he's never been more in love. he can't help but think about how lucky he is to be the one making you lose yourself in the best way.

matsukawa stills his hips and kisses you down from your high, your tongues tangling and making a mess of your spit, but neither of you care, too lost in each other.

"keep going," you pant into his mouth, fingers raking through his hair and making him moan in satisfaction as the last few contractions of your orgasm wrack through him in turn. "wanna feel your cum inside me, issei."

matsukawa groans, low and guttural. you say and do the hottest things with such ease it should be illegal. "fuck," he grunts, "i did tell you i'd give you everything, didn't i?" he slips your legs down his shoulders carefully, but presses one to your chest with a large hand on the back of your knee. he repositions himself over you, makes sure you're secure and comfortable before he starts to move again.

this time, his pace is much faster, hyperfocused only on reaching his own peak.

your moans seem to get higher pitched the longer he pistons into the tight wet heat of your cunt, your legs shifting to close around him on instinct - he prevents you with that firm hold on the back of your knee, keeping you splayed open and vulnerable as he happily splits you apart on his cock.

matsukawa bites his lip in concentration, but low, satisfied sounds still escape him, too lost in the sweet vice of your pussy clamped around him to keep quiet.

when you reach up to tug at his hair again, with just the right amount of pressure, he thinks he loses his mind completely.

he only lasts a few valiant, sloppy thrusts, and then he's burying himself into you as deep as he can, his tall frame curling into you instinctively to get as close as possible, your name escaping from deep within his throat, low and lovely. with every sweet pulse of his thick cock he spills inside you, coating your fluttering walls in his seed until it leaks out between you, and you're gasping and shaking lightly at how positively full you feel, warm and more than content to be trapped in his embrace. his hips slow to a sensual grind that makes his pelvis nudge right into your clit, and before you know it, you're teetering excruciatingly slow towards another orgasm, shocked at how eager for it your tired body seems to be, squeezing around his cock - still hard despite how much he seemed to cum - and instinctively pressing closer to him.

matsukawa buries his face into the crook of your neck as he comes down, breathing heavy, arms wrapped tight around your waist. after a moment he turns you both on your side because he has half a mind not to crush you, and you giggle breathlessly, fingers soothing at his scalp. "fuuuuuck," he groans against your heated skin, drawn out on a long breath. "you're insane." he chuckles to himself, all too pleased.

you scoff, shifting so you can face him. you're so close you can see how much his pupils have dilated, the black nearly swallowing the entirety of his irises, and you wonder vaguely if yours are the same, if the emotion bursting from your slightly heaving chest is any indication. "says the one who's still hard." you clench around him for emphasis and he grunts as his cock twitches inside you, a large hand smacking lightly at your ass in admonishment.

"don't start something you can't finish, princess." that crooked grin is back, that addictingly smooth lilt of his voice.

instantly you're more energized, spurred on by his challenging tone, absolutely insatiable, and you mirror his smirk. "who says i can't finish?" you pull away from him, whining a little at the loss of his heat and the dull pressure of his cock plugging your releases. it leaks slowly out of you and along your still-wet inner thighs, but in another instant matsukawa's thick fingers are there, smearing it into your folds and making more of a mess of you.

you push his probing hand away so you can roll on top of him, and his grin widens when he figures out what you're doing and lays back comfortably with an arm tucked behind his head, those half-lidded eyes watchful, anticipating.

you don't miss the delicious flex of his bicep, the way that position emphasizes his arms and broad chest.

you lean in just to kiss him as you straddle his hips, his free hand squeezing at your thigh and gliding up your body to rest at the curve of your waist, his thumb soothing at your skin. you line him up to your entrance once more, and with your pleased little gasp, he slides in with hardly any resistance to speak of.

"that's it, beautiful," matsukawa rumbles, and with your hands braced on his chest you can feel his deep voice vibrate through you, and it makes you shiver. "you're so pretty like this." he says it softly, reverently, and your back arches a little bit more as if on instinct, preening with his praise.

you grin, sinking down all the way and humming in satisfaction along with him. you circle your hips, leaning down to kiss him, one hand on his chest and the other on the side of his face, caressing his cheek as he lets your tongue delve into his mouth, content to let you take the lead.

if he were honest, he'd let you do anything you wanted to him.

and he can't wait to explore that with you.

you lick up the line of spit that connects you when you pull back, raising your hips simultaneously and gasping against his cheek when you shift back down. his cock throbs deep inside you, every ridge and vein massaging at your walls so nicely every time you move, slow and purposeful.

"fuck, 'sei," you whine as you ride him with abandon, chasing the friction, the pure, liquid pleasure he's giving you, all but bouncing in his lap - to his clear delight. his eyes shine with mirth, darting across your every feature and leaving none without his attention. matsukawa groans in response, no longer lax and content to just admire you as you work yourself over him, sitting up to toy with your body, his hands now occupied with your breasts. he squeezes them together, pinching and licking at your nipples just to make you whimper and clutch at his wrists, back arching to push more of your flesh into his eager mouth.

matsukawa kisses his way up from your chest, where he's left his own pretty roses scattered across your skin, and starts sucking on your throat. you gasp when you feel his teeth glide across your pulse, shuddering and tugging on the hair at the back of his head. he chuckles against your jaw, big hands digging into the supple flesh of your ass to aid your movements.

"issei, i'm-" he interrupts you with a lick to your bottom lip, laughing softly at how quickly you respond, head tilting to follow his mouth when he pulls away.

"what is it, baby?" he asks, though he knows, can feel it in the way you clench around his dick, the tension pulling your muscles taut and making your pace stutter.

"'m close," you manage between kisses when he realizes he can't stay away from your mouth, either, and gives you what you want. "gonna cum, make me cum, issei please, i need to- oh-!"

matsukawa interrupts you again, this time by planting his feet on the mattress and thrusting up into you. he grips your thighs and slams you down onto his cock simultaneously, and your hair flies when you throw your head back with a deeply satisfied, high pitched moan. his grin is feral - he's addicted to the way you fall apart just for him, losing yourself again on his cock, tits bouncing with each brutal thrust he rewards you with for your pretty, shaky moans.

your fingers paw sloppily at your clit as you tumble over the edge once more, and he does his best to prolong your orgasm, but he only lasts a few messy thrusts himself before giving in and pumping you full again, unable to resist the tantalizing flutter of your walls around him.

matsukawa shoves his pulsing dick inside you as deep as he can and stills, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you tight to him, unconcerned that you're both sweaty and trembling and have a mess slowly spreading between you, both of you coming apart in your bliss yet coming together in the middle, tethering each other in your embrace. you hold him just as firmly, fingers dug into his soft curls, chest pressed to his and swooning all over again when you feel his heartbeat against your own, rattling around erratically in your ribcage as you come down from your devastating high, struggling to catch your breath.

soon enough, laughter bubbles up in his chest, shaking you both lightly. you giggle along with him, pinching playfully at his arm when he kisses your cheek and tells you, low and breathless, "i swear you're trying to kill me, princess."

"we should probably clean up," you suggest, laying your head on his shoulder and admittedly making no other move to do so.

"yeah, just..." matsukawa just stares at you for a long moment, a tender little half-smile adorning his lips, so small yet so bright - it lights up his whole face, makes his eyes sparkle and his skin glow, and you don't think he's ever looked more handsome. your heart does somersaults. "give me a second." his hand comes up to your face, thumb stroking your cheek, tracing the seam of your lips and making you smile against the pad of it. almost as if on instinct you kiss at his thumb, and his grin widens, because he thinks he sees everything he's ever wanted in your eyes.

you sigh dramatically when you feel more of your combined juices leak out of you and you suddenly feel unbearably sticky. "come on, issei, you can make googly eyes at me in the bath," you gripe, and peck at his lips before disentangling your sore limbs from his and moving to sit up.

matsukawa just laughs and does his best to help you out, because he can't argue.

but just because you ruined that tender moment prematurely, he thinks he'll do more than that in the bath.

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shojoisms · 1 year

Text

— [♡] 21:55 with Matsukawa.

just a lil drabble because I love this man, your honor + not beta’d just copied and pasted from my docs.

✩⡱ content+warnings: fem!reader, established relationships, vaginal penetration, size kink, creampies, pet names are used!

Your boyfriend watches in amusement — watching you huff and grunt as you struggle to sink down on his cock, both your hands placed on his broad chest to steady yourself as you try again.

“What’s wrong, bunny?” Matsukawa asks, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face, his features doing nothing to mask that — yes — he does find your current dilemma amusing.

“Need a hand?” You roll your eyes as he places his heavy hands on your hips before you swat them away — the teasing lilt never leaving his tone.

“No,” You lift yourself up so that you're hovering mere inches away from Matsukawa’s thick, monster cock — the fat mushroom head bumping against your clit has you hesitating.

For a while, none of you say anything instead you retract one of your hands, stroking his cock for good measure. Matsukawa groans at the sensation, pre cum beading on the tip as you continue pumping him and slathering his shaft in his essence for extra help.

It’s not long before you’re aligning the tip of his cock with your awaiting heat — slowly but surely, his girth disappears between your folds. The stretch burns, although not unbearable, your boyfriend was huge. Way more endowed than most of the men you’ve ever been with, even rivaling half of your toy collection.

A string of curses spew from you both. “‘S fuckin’ big,” you hiss, your head laying against Matsukawa’s chest as he finally bottoms out.

“So fuckin’ tight,” He mocks back with a hiss, although with no malicious intent — you felt amazing around him, like you were made for him and he’s damn sure he’s gonna mold your pussy in the shape of his cock, ruining you for every man after him, has his balls tightening at the idea.

“Give me sec,” you breathe out, giving yourself time to adjust to the sheer size, and hefty weight of Matsukawa’s cock.

“Take all the time you need,” He hums, “not goin’ anywhere, not when your pussy’s clenching onto me like this,”

You can feel your boyfriend’s chest rise with laughter, as soon as your body gets accustomed to his you raise your hips, allowing them to fall back down upon his cock — his laughter catching in his throat as you clench around him.

Your pace starts off slow, teasingly slow, just to spite your boyfriend and he rolls his hips lazily in encouragement.

You relish in the way Matsukawa’s cock feels as you spear yourself upon it — his cock stretching the warm pouch of your cunt with each movement, as you force more of him inside you, making you feel full.

“Is—sei,” You drawl, Matsukawa can barely take it, he needs more — more than what you’re offering.

Taking matters into his own hands, he grabs you by your hips — palms planted firmly against you. You squeal in surprise as he lifts you up before slamming you back down on his length, his cock delving deeper inside of you as the tip hits against your cervix.

His pace is relentless, unforgiving, almost certain that he’s punishing you for teasing him earlier. “Fuck, f—fuck” you cry, your hands clawing at his back while your nails rake across his skin, leaving scratches across the surface.

He merely groans in response, unfazed by your actions.

It feels like your losing your mind as more and more of Matsukawa splits you open, he even shifts his hips to ram into your more sensitive spots with a calculated precision — determined to make you go dumb on his cock.

It’s not like he had to do much anyways.

Matsukawa’s not much of a talker when it comes to sex, but something about the way your hole keeps sucking his cock back in has him reconsidering. “You feel so fuckin’ good, shit”

Tears are beginning to form in the corners of your eyes, your vision going hazy as the last remnants of your sanity fades away. “Like you were made for me, bunny,”

Your lips fall open, as more moans roll off your tongue. You’re close — the coil in your tummy growing tighter.

Matsukawa knows it, he can tell by the way your walls flutter around him — clenching, and squeezing his cock as you finally cum.

You fall slack in his embrace, although it does nothing to hinder him — he continues bouncing you up and down on his cock as if you were weightless, weighing less than a doll. “Almost there,” he grunts, and it’s not like you could really comprehend what he was saying anyways.

And with a few more rolls of his hips, his cock twitches and pulses inside you, signaling his end as he spurts thick ropes of semen along your walls until you’re completely overfilled, leaving some to seep from between your folds —- wetting both yours and his thighs.

Matsukawa pulls you close, pressing his lips against the curve of your face. “Atta girl,” it comes out breathlessly, “let’s go get you cleaned up,”

#haikyuu smut #hq smut #haikyuu imagines #matsukawa issei x reader #haikyu x reader smut #matsukawa x reader #Matsukawa smut #Mattsun smut #hq x reader smut #hq drabbles #matsukawa issei x you #perhaps I shall make my formatting for posts look better too..#hmm..

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llightshower · 11 months

Text

haikyuu men hair pulling ˃ᴗ˂

pairings: aged up!oikawa/ mattsun x afab!reader

warnings: ( this may not be suitable/ relatable for people with coils/ tight hair textures ) oikawa: petnames (princess & cutie), grinding, riding. mattsun: rough sex, implied punishment, petnames (honey & good girl), teeny tiny sir kink.

oikawa

oikawa sat down and brought your naked body onto his. he slowly let you down on him. before you could fully adjust, oikawa was moving you up and down on his dick. you squirmed and whined, you hands roaming all over his back until you relaxed your nails into his shoulders. once oikawa had stopped you slowly grind on him. your head sank into the crook of his neck

“just like that princess, mhm,” oikawa praised.

you began moving faster and more desperately, one of his hands on your waist but the other moving up to your neck, his soft touch making your body shiver.

you’re movement was interrupted by a harsh tug on your hair, you were forced to remove your head from his neck.

“keep on moving, don’t stop.”

and so you did, oikawas other hand gripping your waist tighter. his cock twitched in you and he let out a grunt. you looked away, squeezing your eyes tight and your nails digging further into his shoulders.

he pulled on your hair once again, a little tighter too, “what’s wrong, cutie, embarrassed? i wanna see the cute face you make when you cum, look at me.”

you opened your eyes and looked at him, trying to keep your eyes open as his dick kept on twitching inside of you.

“mmm, ‘gonna cum,” you whined out.

“me too princess.”

oikawa’s hands ran up to your scalp and he squeezed your hair a little tighter. your hips moved faster and the room was filled with the music of your moans and his grunts.

before you knew it, your cum was mixing together. both of you were trying to regain control of your breath.

“again,” oikawa asked, a weak grin on his face.

mattsun

mattsun pushed you onto the bed, forcing you on all fours. his hands on your hips and, without warning, ramming into you. your back arched and you let out a loud whine.

“fuck, mattsun! mmph-“

he ignored you and kept going. you choked on your saliva, and the bed kept hitting the wall. your elbows were already so close to giving out.

one hand moved from your hip, making his thrusts sloppier and sloppier. he tugged onto your hair, your head bolting up and looking at the headboard.

“you like that honey,” his deep voice sent shivers down your spine.

you couldn’t respond, you were to focused on his rhythm, the way he was right on your sweet spot- but in just a second he stopped.

his dick was still in you and he leaned closer to your head, “I asked a question.”

you nodded, “mmm, yes,” desperately needing him to continue.

“good girl,” he responded and once again went all the way in, your eyes squeezing shut. you couldn’t keep yourself up anymore, your elbows became fully weak and your head sank into the mattress. muffled moans and the squeaking bed filled the room.

mattsun grabbed your hair once more, making your head come up, your loud moans were music to his ears.

“yes, fuck! mattsun im so c-close”

“well you better hold it.”

you felt your knees getting wobbly, how the fuck were you supposed to not cum like this? you couldn’t “hold it.”

and just a moment after, you came all over his cock, disobeying him. he immediately pulled out and flipped you over.

“what did i tell you, honey?”

“to h-hold it..”

“and what did you do?”

your legs squeezed together, cum still dripping out of you.

mattsun shook his head, “what am i going to do with you…”

#haikyuu #mattsun smut #mattsun x reader #mattsukawa issei #mattsukawa x reader #issei smut #haikyuu smut #oikawa headcanons #oikawa scenarios #hq x you #oikawa imagine #toru oikawa x reader #smut #seijoh #aoba johsai

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xfgpng · 10 months

Text

you never understood the appeal of aphrodisiacs. your friends would tell you the benefits and how much they enjoyed it but you never really liked that idea of giving someone that much control over your body while you weren’t coherent.

that is until you met him. matsukawa issei …

no one has ever made you feel as good as he always makes you feel and he makes sure to make it about you. every single time.

it’s why you bring it up to him, it’s terrifying as it is exciting.

the first few moments feel like a faint buzz, almost like smoking weed and feeling that pleasant high until it hits you hard and fast.

you can feel everything he does, the intensity of his fingers digging into your skin, the way his cock pushes so deep into you that you can almost feel it in your throat.

it’s all too much and not enough at the same time and when you cum for him, it’s so loud and needy that he can’t help but want to push you over the edge again and he does, your body willing and pliant and even as you come down from your high, you beg for more. you need him to keep making you feel good, the only way he can.

#[ 🪼 ] xfg writes #haikyuu smut #hq smut #matsukawa issei #mattsun smut #mattsun x reader #mattsun x you #mattsun x y/n #hq matsukawa #haikyuu matsukawa #matsukawa issei x reader #matsukawa issei x you #matsukawa issei x y/n #haikyuu mattsun #haikyuu mattsun smut

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moechies · 4 months

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giving issei nii a bj 🏩💝 tw dark content icst, giving oral

“good, just like that. just a little more, cmon.. do it for your nii chan.”

his cold fingers are tangled in the side of your scalp, soothing his thumb over your sweet face.

you glance up at your nii chan with your pearly eyes glazed in the prettiest tears, with your wet lips from your saliva that still had a little remnant of your previously applied lip gloss. you were too fucking perfect.

“breathe in through yer nose imouto, it’ll be easier for you,”

you pull your mouth off his cock unexpectedly, the suffocation getting too overbearing. it was starting to burn your throat with how much it was being stretched, but the unsatisfied look on your niichans face was enough to make your heart ache.

“m-m sorry issei nii, s-s just too big.. i jus.. just n-need your help! please..!”

“yeah, you need nii chans help? how, hm? you have to tell me, or i don’t know what to do.” he did know what to do, but he was teasing you. making you say lewd things out loud. he loved it, and you knew that.

“m-maybe you can try n push on my head.. so it’ll go deeper..!”

it makes him grin.

“kay, let’s try it. gonna take it all this ti—“

and before he can even finish his sentence, your warmth is already wrapped around him, pulling a groan from your niichan. you feel his hand on your head yet again, but this time he’s a bit rougher with his actions. his hand begins to press down further and further onto your head, the pressure getting just a bit harsher each second.

the panic settles in, as you feel his cock going past a certain limit in your throat,

“don’t panic, yer doin’ so good f’me yeah? just what i expected from you, imouto.”

the praise causes a flutter in your cunt, pressing your cunt furthermore into your heel.

“gonna cum, princess. you know how to make your niichan feel s-so good, hm?”

and before you can hum back in agreement, your niichans semen fills down your throat, to the brim if your mouth. the action is too quick and causes you to choke and whine. he pulls out with a groan, tracing a heart with his tip on your plush lips. it makes him chuckle at your little angered face, in realization of what he had just done. he places a gentle kiss on your lips anyway, because how could he not?

“good fuckin girl. so good. here, ya wanna spit it o-“

“s so sweet issei nii!”

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu #haikyuu oikawa #haikyu x reader #haikyu smut #matsukawa issei #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa smut #hq #hq x reader #hq smut #hq x you #hq imagines #hq matsukawa #mattsun #haikyuu matsukawa #matsukawa x you #drabbles ⋆⑅˚₊

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hxltic · 1 year

Text

I’M SORRY. MASTUKAWA ISSEI

• 200 FOLLOWERS!! 😻😻😻

• Genre: smut

• Warnings: female reader, college, slight angst at first, overstimulation, rough counter sex, choking, hair pulling, degradation, daddy kink, cunnilingus, pretty long but please don’t let it scare you off lol

-I just love comfort roommate Mattsun

You slept horribly. You thank the universe your classes had mercy. Though you still called into work, unfortunately, and even more to your demise— there was a huge sale that made folding restock clothes a pain.

Slumping through the door, getting your shower in, and throwing on the first shirt you found from the laundry room was very efficient until you got into bed.

You lay there.

Comfortably uncomfortable.

You were hot, but taking the covers off wasn’t an option. You felt every fiber or hair against your body. Your feet were cold. A growling noise erupted from your stomach.

Angrily, the covers are thrown off, where you stomp your way to the kitchen while dismissing the new breeze of air brushing your skin. No jacket, in shorts, waltzing around the apartment scavenging for food. You wish the feeling of the air conditioning didn’t bother you as much as the sound did, because it printed an obvious sign of irritation on your face.

Then the fire alarm beeped.

Taking a deep breath, you begrudgingly conclude yourself unsuccessful in finding something to nibble on. When you turn around, the corner of the kitchen table seemed to stick out more than usual.

Lo and behold it hit the corner of your already cold foot. You drop to your elbows on the counter in annoyance where hold your head, tugging probably unhealthily at your eyes from stress, trying your best not to fall to the ground and cry.

You immediately removed even the thought of tears when the door sounded.

“Honey I’m home.” Mattsun closes the door behind him.

He just got back from afternoon classes with only a handful of groceries. Your roommate started the “I’m home” thing as a joke, yet it carried farther than that as time went on. You correct yourself and try to help with the groceries at least a little bit, picking up what you could find in the bags and placing them in their correct spot.

Mattsun could obviously tell something was off the second he walked in. He watched you stutter and quickly regather yourself even though it looked as if you were on the verge of tears. He would’ve asked why by now, if he didn’t know that you probably didn’t know yourself. He was right. You didn’t.

Hard days never got to you, but as the homework piled up with your micromanaging boss, it went straight to the mini notepad in your brain listing all you had to do. It was fine until you had to flip to the next page, then the ink started getting all runny. You aren’t sure what caused it; but it happened. You held the milk mindlessly in your hand.

Mattsun scooted behind you towards the refrigerator. You were in the area between the island and the main counter, causing his front to press up against you innocently, an angered grunt dropping from your lips.

“Could you not go around?” You turn to him swiftly, your palm facing upwards to emphasize your feelings.

“Didn’t really think it mattered. You calling me fat?” He opened the refrigerator door. Usually you’d laugh, but it only turned your brows farther inwards.

“Yeah, it does. Go the other fucking way.” You spat. With the roll of your eyes, you slid the milk into the already opened fridge. You stepped back so that Matsukawa could close it, hand already on the handle—but when nothing happened, you turned around to see the tall male staring at you in disbelief. He literally just got home.

“…What?”

“The hell is up with you?” He asks regularly.

“Nothing,” you shrug and brush it off, “it was just unnecessary.”

“Well it’s clearly something,” he retaliates, “I’ve been practically crucified the ten seconds I’ve been here.” He closes the door and laughs humorlessly to himself.

“Whatever. It’s nothing.”

He starts, “Really? The-“

“God-it’s nothing! It’s nothing.”

The aggressive hand motions come back, then you finally take about four different things from the second-to-last bag and put them up hastily, even in your tired state.

He observes you from the counter with every step you take and every heavy breath you let in. Like you’re fighting an entire war with yourself.

It finally clicked in his mind: he said the wrong things in the wrong moment, and it wasn’t what you needed right now. He just wished he would’ve noticed sooner.

“Hey, my bad—I’m sorry. Should’ve went around.”

His voice wasn’t careless now, but soft. You heard him but just moved on to the last bag. Before you can pull something out, he takes it and tells you that you can go lay down. Better yet, that he’d handle everything else.

“It’s fine, I can do it.” You reach again and he pulls it away. “Give it.” The quicker you are, quicker he is.

You sigh and pull back. You wanted to slap the shit out of him but he wouldn’t budge.

“Do you always have to be like this?”

He cocks his head to the side. He was curious. It could tell how you actually feel about him, the kind of things you don’t tell people to their face.

“Like what?”

“Aggravatingly annoying,” you blatantly answered.

His expression changed for a second. He refuses to get louder, only talking in a low volume, casual tone.

“That I am.”

“Why can’t you just come in and go to your room to study or something?”

“I will next time.”

“Why do you always have to be by me?”

Hm…

Accepting it and having it your way he felt was the best thing to do. He’s been called annoying before, even irritating due to his constant teasing. But hearing it from you—really the main one he talks to that isn’t Makki— hurt a bit. You saw his eyes widen for a slight half a second more before reverting to his usual apathetic face.

He knew you didn’t mean it. He knew you were overstimulated. Giving in to you and whatever you said was what you needed, not someone to fight you on things. Yeah it fucking hurt; however, you were speaking out of temporary emotion rather than logic or feelings, so if not stressing you out in this way was what he’d have to do, he’d do it.

The truth was: you really couldn’t stand being by him. Hearing him walk in while you read in your bed, then casually throw his things to the wall and flop down at your feet. Or when you would come in later and he’d be sat criss cross on the couch, a spot waiting for you right next to him. You couldn’t decipher if these were regular friendly activities or not and it swam through your mind all throughout the day.

Was it just his personality? Did it mean anything to him? Were you being dramatic? All the hugs, the studying, the dinner nights. Were those dates? Did they have the same effect on him that they had on you? Were they even on purpose?

The silence was deafening and palpable, the gaze he held intimidatingly normal. Didn’t you just yell at him? How is he so calm? You had come back to your senses, staring up at his non-changing face, ready to say something.

“I-“

“Do I need any reason more than I want to be?” He utters first delicately.

There wasn’t a hint of negative energy. It made you sad, just how much he’d do for you. You actually almost wish he would’ve gotten mad.

He’s never once yelled at you, called you out for dumb things like breaking a glass bowl, or not being taught some things around the house. You just let out an entire day’s worth of anger onto him and said something that was nowhere close to what you feel. You even used him as a placeholder for what you wish you could say to your boss. He is always so, so good to you.

He watches as your eyes suddenly get tighter and your eyebrows inch upwards. You’ve done nothing but look at him, yet the mere thought of what you said and what he’s actually done forces you to drop your head slowly and take a few steps forward into his chest. Droplets fall silently to the tiled floor.

His arms softly found their way around you.

“I’m sorry.” You mumble.

“You’re okay.”

He hugs you back, progressively getting softer with every passing minute. Not “It’s okay,” “You’re okay.” Sometime later, you pull back with a deep breath, and you send a tight lip smile to him. Then while he puts away the discarded item (that was previously fought over), you hop up on the island counter.

“Okay. I’m better now.”

“Good.” He closes the fridge. Your legs sway back and forth. You’ll try to explain what happened, even if you know it won’t justify the outbursts directed at him.

“Hey I didn’t mean it.”

“I kno-“

“No, no, wait.” You interrupt.

Dark eyebrows raise and his arms cross as he leans back against the counter in front of you to listen. He nods, telling you to go on.

“I’m so stressed. I just had a really, really bad day and put you at the end of it. I do really enjoy your company—I promise—It’s just…it’s just I don’t really-”

You think for a moment and sigh before your head drops into your palms again. It was because your mind was racing to find the words. Do you tell him? Would it count as a confession?

“I don’t even know anymore. Do you ever…um…”

“Take your time.” He sits patiently.

Damn, did you have to trip over your own words now?

“…What do the dates that you plan usually look like?”

He seemed lost in thought for a second, prior to returning towards the sight of you nervously twiddling your fingers. He noticed the emphasis on the word ‘plan,’ as if you were trying to differentiate between real dates from him and whatever the hangouts you two had were. Saving you the trouble, he’d just tell you.

“I like you.”

…huh?

The sudden confession makes your eyes almost pop out of your head. That was not the answer you were expecting, but not the answer you didn’t want.

“What?” You whisper. You did hear that correctly, right?

He goes on to elaborate with a sigh and a shrug.

“Listen, I’ve been through a million different of these confessions and I don’t want that delay with you. I like you a lot, period.”

It was a while back ago when Mattsun decided he’d focus on you alone. He cleared his phone, and (which you noticed) somewhat cleared his defiled reputation of past debauchery. Many older women have came up to him asking if he actually would pursue during his libertine phase, to which he’d respond no, so he has experienced almost every subtle confession ever made. It was like déja vu.

Wide-eyed you sit. That was a lot easier than you expected; you were worrying all for nothing. The bearing weight that had you in a hold was finally lifted.

“So all of those were-“

“Yes. I haven’t done that with anyone else and I prefer to keep it that way.”

Your heart probably jumps in your chest and your eyes light up. A wide smile inches its way onto your face, and it almost dies down when you remember what you did, but he brings it back with a light, mature smile of his own. After all this time he actually was crushing on you like you were him. You never, ever could deny the way you were eager to see him once he would return from his classes and crash the night with you.

Speaking of crash, a sudden returning wave of exhaustion brushes your body. You ignore it though. There are better things.

“Well, that’s somehow where I was going; I like you a lot too. But if I actually asked you would you say yes? I know how-”

“That depends. Does it come with a ring?”

You stop and your dimples start to show as a smile crawls onto your face, again, “Um…no?“

“Then I object.”

He uncrosses his arms and walks unhurriedly between your legs. He was so content, large hands brushing up your thigh from the knee.

“Yes, I would,” he admits delightedly whilst gingerly coming closer in the face, “the ring comes later though.” He’d whisper a breath away from your lips. You’d wondered how you could be so lucky, the confession not even falling from your sheepish mouth, and still end up with the same outcome. When his eyes go from yours to the plump of your mouth; So, so ready to feel him on you, your eyes close and anticipate him.

Nothing happens. Once your eyes open and he stands there mockingly with the trademark grin (still only hovering an inch away from your nose), if you didn’t know any better you would’ve shoved him away and hopped off the counter to your room for playing with your feelings. But Mattsun was just being Mattsun. First he laughs genuinely at how gullible you are. Then, his trail of sight goes back to your lips unashamedly once more with a dimple-showcasing smirk. He slowly pushes a falling strand of hair away, and slightly turns his head to melt into you with a hand on your cheek sweetly.

You could feel the free smile that was on his lips as he kissed you. It was cute. The kind of things you see in movies at little coffee shops riding along the street. It was unlike him, an unfamiliar feeling this was—like sunlight rather than a rainy or cloudy day. It sounds stupid, but Matsukawa is always slow moving and effective. Watching tv with your legs kicked up or tucked in a blanket as the pitter-patter of the rain decided the kismet of your day. The lambent lighting of the morning making it significantly darker than it usually is with the blinds open.

He caught you before you were too far gone by groaning happily. Throughout it, the entirety of your mind was buzzed by the way your lips gracefully slow danced against his on the counter of your shared apartment. It felt so good seeing him just utterly happy, especially with you. Warm and steady like molasses in January. His fingers eventually connected in the small of your back. You were still tired so his energy was just as lazy as your own; like when your hands floated around his neck and feathered through his hair.

He did it as if it had been years since he was kissed. Yearning for absolutely any ounce of touch from someone. He was accidentally pushing into you, needing to be closer, your arch slowly getting deeper.

The second he pulled away for necessary air, he caught the crevices of your thighs and pulled you with him. Now that the hard part was done he’d give you the full experience.

“What are you doing?”

“Relieving stress.”

He pushes a leg up and over his own shoulder. His hands are placed directly atop your abdomen to apply light pressure as he kisses away the nerves from the main fat of your body gently. Remember all that cute stuff? Yeah, it just diminished the second he decided to eat you out on the marble counter.

You’re not very sure how it led to something like this, something like him pulling your shorts and panties off together. Once there, his mouth felt great against your clit, mainly when he’d stop and suck right between. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t dreamt of this from someone before because the form of the pink muscle inside you is unmistakable. So unmistakable even, that the feeling of the slurp that makes you squirm seemingly flows through your veins to your head like blood.

When Mattsun eats you out, he does it with precision. He knows where he wants to go and how he’ll get there. Compared to others he wasn’t as messy, but maybe that comes from the fact he’d prefer his fingers working inside of you. He’d love to watch your face contort on nothing but his hand because he knows it’s a favorited body part of his. He knows you’d love it. But, he will cup his mouth over you and give the same effect nonetheless.

And you loved that about him. He was careless, not nonchalant.

He was clingy, but independent.

He had morals, just not enough to get boring like when he jumped in the ball case in the store.

He was extremely opinionated, (especially when you asked him small questions like if he liked a shirt) but he also doesn’t care enough to convince you out of something you liked.

He’s hot, but also couldn’t care less about his appearance at times.

He was a walking juxtaposition.

And usually, when you’re alone, the relaxation of your mind helps you get off faster. This was the case, and going over his traits and features was clearly working well because now only your upper back was on the counter and anything below that point was lifted with his large hands. Both legs were in his possession. Your breaths were heavy and when your waist moves on him, his shoulders follow his head. Your own head moves to each side, but he doesn’t seem to care, this was incidental when he was holding your hips close to him so your wetness spread right under his nose. He was feeding off you since there was nowhere to run.

He’d tell you to sit still a bit but he likes the challenge. He likes watching your waist go back and forth as your pussy basically cries his name, and he would print his initials in hickeys on you if that’s what it called for. Others call it sadistic, he calls it motivation.

He could literally take both hands off of you and still be upright—the only reason he didn’t was because you’d probably make yourself fall. Though he did get close, a hand coming right up through your shirt to massage your breast. You unconsciously crossed your legs behind his neck in reaction. Damn, he was good.

He groans through you, and you wish you could watch but holding yourself together was a ground-breaking job. He hit each spot perfectly with complete control of his tongue and your shoulders were starting to hurt from bearing your own body weight.

His height made this fairly difficult but nothing he couldn’t handle—having to crouch in front of a pretty girl was the last of his worries. With your thighs covering his ears and temple, he sucked away. He was honestly glad he did this now rather than later, knowing you, you probably would’ve refused clamping on his head so you wouldn’t crush him or something like that. Mattsun believed his breath regulation was pretty okay considering he almost even got into swimming, but if by slim chance he did die he believed suffocating like this was preferred.

His tongue was literally inside of you. The only thing preventing your brain from fuzzing and your head from throwing back was there would be nothing left on the counter to hold your weight.

Once your heavy breathing developed to jagged and your heavyset eyes started to close, he set you back down gracefully. He heard your pleas but held out for as long as he could. Many “Mattsun please’s“ and “Mattsun I’s” later, he would finally relieve you; He knew his girl could do it.

He spent the last portion of your orgasm fulfilling his own desires and working you from the inside. He moved positions to rest on his left elbow and lean over your face, staring into your eyes, brows upturned and a smile showing. Was it a pity smile? Maybe, but it was for sure the face of amusement as you break down beneath him.

“H-holy shit…‘Sei- s’right there,” you declared.

“Huh? What is?”

A very implying whine followed. Matsukawa scooped his arm under your head like a pillow, his left hand turning your chin to face him. He loved that face. That pretty face only dusted with fatigue and sadness but smothered in want. That same face he’ll get to see whenever he looks down. Huh. Maybe he was a little sadistic.

Your body scrunched and your knees came up in ecstasy.

“Talk to me,” he says, but you barely could keep your eyes open the way he was avoiding the spot on purpose. You wondered how he did it, already having learned your body and how you reacted so well in such a short time. You were so close already and he was gonna ruin it, even though you’d probably still find a way to cum anyway.

You tried your best to muster up something and prayed he’d take it.

“Faster,” you ordered. No response. Actually instead of doing what you said, he pulled them out, assumingely because of the sudden attitude. You immediately went to apologize. He was actively in charge of your body, after all.

You verbally groan in annoyance, to where you hear a responding muffled giggle, so you open your eyes to see what happened.

You meet a view of his smiling jawline, looking down past the counter. His hand was still beneath your chin, almost as if he was protecting you from being uncomfortable, but his teeth held his shirt up as he used whatever was left on his fingers to jerk himself off. This was the disruption in question.

He didn’t mean to basically abandon you, but undoing the jawstring and letting himself free seemed like it would benefit everyone. And he was big. You’d seen big, but he was big all the way around.

You watched in awe as his fingers left a shine of gloss behind when they reached the reddening tip from the bottom.

He threw his head back and groaned in relief, finally being reminded what it felt like to be touched with someone else’s presence.

“Sorry, couldn’t resist.”

With a look to your impatient, shocked eyes, he knew you wanted it. Needed it almost.

He pressed off the counter with his elbow but left his hand under your head. Such a gentleman. Lifting both legs up, with a hand stretched under your knees like a baby, he spoke to you.

“You want it?” He’d ask. You’d nod aggressively, to where he’d ask again. “You gotta tell me.”

“Yes, I do.” You pleaded. Of course your head rolled slightly on his hand to see his face around your legs.

“Alright. Tell me when you wanna stop. Safeword is green.”

You’d never once said a safeword during sex and you doubt you’d use it now. Plus, Issei wouldn’t hurt you.

Intentionally.

You felt him pull your legs apart and hold them where they were previously scrunched up at your breasts. Finally, he rubbed you one last time, before the tip slowly started to diminish inside of you.

It’s amazing how the body makes fluid for moments like these. It’s also amazing how wet Mattsun got you so it’d hurt ten times less.

When he stopped moving about halfway there, he hung over your body almost menacingly; his silhouette breathing deeply and whatever necklace he had on from the day dangling. Your face contorted at the intrusion and your eyes unexpectedly swelled, making you lachrymose. It definitely could’ve been worse, but fuck he was big.

The ravenette slipped his shirt off and your head slid off his hand painlessly, the overwhelming heat from everywhere flowing to his brain. He almost couldn’t take it. You were so wet but so fucking tight at the same time, he couldn’t even bring himself to keep going. He bent over to meet you with a kiss on the jaw and his hand found your own so you could squeeze it as he went on. He buried his face in your neck.

“O-okay, you can move now,” you managed.

No response.

“Issei?” You pushed his hair aside with the hand that wasn’t in his so you could see him. His eyes were closed and his breathing was seeking stabilization through his mouth.

“Fucking just- gimme a second. Please.”

You knew it was pure desire and he was trying his best not to hurt you. He would promise ‘til death that he tried to stop, to take it slow, but it was irresistible the second you giggled at his current state (that you caused) and your stomach contracted with him inside. He immediately pushed forward so that he was balls deep into the fluttering feeling.

“Matts—”

The sudden squeeze on his hand could cut off circulation and the grunt that emitted from his body over and over as he continued to do it couldn’t be missed. At this point it didn’t even hurt anymore, but the previously denied orgasm returned full force.

Mattsun, of course, would apologize later; but it wasn’t later yet. He finally lifted himself off you and gathered your legs once more so your ankles were at his ears, trying to feel more of the ribbed walls on either side. Your mouth fell open at the spot.

“Ha-hohfuck ‘m gonna cum.” You whispered.

“Mhmm? Let me feel it baby,” He leaned over again, almost testing your flexibility, running a hand along your cheek and swiping away a single tear that dropped from earlier while his forehead was against yours. Now that he knew how far you could go, he’d have a lot of fun with the positions he’d put you in.

“Fuck, fuck-!” You’d find him through your lashes so he could kiss you, the never ending thrusts seemingly reaching your belly button. He loved sucking on those pretty lips of yours.

He only let out a laugh of satisfaction as you stilled and stiffened around him, your arms roaming his back and head turning away. He continued to thrust downward, never letting up speed, causing you to writhe underneath him with every curl of his hips. He did eventually pull away and extend his arms though. It was for a nice view of your body.

His length slipping in and out as a white ring forms that’ll signify how many times he’s made you cum; your breasts through the shirt following your body back and forth; the already fucked out face you wield accompanied with a yawn—it was all so much, he almost couldn’t look anymore. In fact, he won’t.

He grabbed you and pulled you further down the marble so you could roll over, your wriggling body basically halfway there. Up you go by your hair, that flexibility coming in to play a second time while he fucked you. When you moaned at the tug, he wouldn’t be Mattsun if he didn’t tease you for it.

“Wow, who would’ve guessed. You like when I pull your hair?”

“Yes daddy,” you respond. It was almost instantaneous. You wished you could’ve said you meant to do it, but it was honestly an accident.

His thrusts slightly change, you wish you could say how. He dropped your head forcefully, took both of your wrists behind your back, and pulled you up by your throat. Your neck was strained trying to face him but you couldn’t help it, you had to listen when he was talking to you. He was amused, to say the least—especially when you stopped listening because of the way he was barely brushing that sweet nerve.

“That’s a filthy mouth of yours. Who knew you were such a slut?” He’d grin into your ear. “Mgh- since you’ve gotten so good at it, why don’t you tell daddy what you want?”

As long as you’ve known him, he’s made you say things you wouldn’t have even thought of saying prior. But right now? You couldn’t care less.

“Mmm,” you whimper, “h-harder daddy.”

You’re not sure how he unscrambled what you said with his hand restricting your throat and the other intermittent babble coming out of your mouth, but if anyone could, it was him. Mattsun was defiant and dominant, but when it came to your genuine pleasure, he’d gratify.

Teasing aside obviously.

With the slightest bend of his knees, he angled himself and thrusted farther upwards. Did you doubt he would remember where you’re g-spot was? You were choking up more than you already were and his name slipped off your tongue as if it were a veneration statement of butter. Your ass sounded throughout the apartment, the skin-on-skin contact loud enough for the neighbors to hear. The force was turning it red and Matsukawa loved it. He loved when the pussy talked back too.

In fact, you could tell, because he was gradually speeding up and his thrusts were slowly becoming sporadic.

“Oh shit-I’mmna-” You started.

“Come on it. Come on this dick so you can tell everyone you did it twice.”

“Mhmm.”

“You can tell all your little friends you’re mine and I’m yours.”

“Yes daddy…”

“Come so you find all the women I’ve ever talked to and tell them you’re the only one I want.”

With that, your eyebrows leveled out and your eyes shut while trying to process the sex drive and sweet believable words at the same time. Your body held onto Mattsun for dear life, to where he let go of your throat and held you close on the fall back down to your elbows. You were exhausted, but that grip your pussy still had on him was deadly. Deadly enough for him to slightly question whether you’d be a bad mom or not.

He obviously chose against it and sighed along your back while you came before pulling out. You turned around and crouched knowingly with whatever strength was left, then watched him jerk himself off above you. After you decided to take matters into your own hands (literally), he held himself up with his support on the counter. His head hanging over you while you stroked the other was a sight to remember.

With a final hiss, white decorated your face like a picture.

“Holy fuck,” his head faced the ceiling as he ran a hand over his face. The view he was met with when he came back down was insane, your hand curved behind his thigh and the other milking him dry of whatever was left. With a single bud of cum remaining, you licked your lips and smiled weakly.

What the hell would he do with you?

©hxltic

#haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyuu headcanons #haikyu x reader #haikyuu smut #god i want him so bad #matsukawa x y/n #mattsun imagines #mattsun smut #mattsun #mattsun <3 #hq matsukawa #matsukawa issei #haikyuu hcs #issei smut

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iwaasfairy · 1 year

Text

┌─ “ ! „ PSYCHO KILLER

tw slasher!mattsun, final girl!reader, noncon, coercion, size kink, cevix fucking, fear play, blood play, cutting/marking, he uses a knife on reader, degradation, spanking, manhandling, forced cheating, murder mentions, mattsun's giant cock wordcount. 5.6k

a/n. another commission from an anonymous amazing person so make sure to say thank youuu to them!!! this time we got matTSUnnnn and omg this was such a blast to write anD AAHHH i hope you enjoy it and that it fuels your slasher fucker urge a little bit, thank you so so much for commissioning me again and hERe she is!!

You never really thought much about mortality, before. But the flashing lights reflected on the brick walls, red blue, red blue, red blue, and the wailing of the sirens, paint a haunting picture. One that even someone positive, bright-eyed and preppy like you feels down to the bone. You have the displeasure of standing with wide eyes, hands stiff and shaky from the evening chill, as the armed men move people out of the way and the person from the alley towards the ambulance; and though you’re across the street— you can tell.

The way onlookers cover their mouths and gasp and try to unsee as the stretcher passes by them doesn’t paint a promising picture. Your spine feels all flimsy the longer you stand, one hand wrapped frozen around your bag of groceries, apartment only a few blocks away. It’s in the way the senior police officer glances around the blocked off street and tells a passer-by to hurry home or to move along, and the yellow tape keeping the alleyway separate as it trembles rapidly and noisily in the wind. You take a deep breath against the sudden chill that travels all the way down your body, and pick your heels up to walk back.

Back down the opposite way and to the blue lit 24h corner store you left mere minutes ago. The melody of the store chime is comforting, and you speed walk all the way down the aisle back to the register. The charming, delicate features of the young man across from you light up when he properly looks up, and he tilts his head much like a curious animal- one brow raising. “Babe? You’re back?”

“I’m waiting out your shift here,” you softly declare, sneaking back behind the counter where you usually dare steal a few kisses, and dragging out a shitty, plastic chair to rest your head to his hip as he blinks down at you in confusion. Eventually though, Haru just nods, his honey brown hair falling a little further over his brows when he leans down to brush his hand over your head.

“Okay. You alright?” You nod, and he doesn’t ask more— and eventually you two fall back into conversation, only stopping every so often to serve the scarce customer. When you two walk back home in the early hours of the morning, the people have gone, but the yellow tape still stings as you pass the quiet street.

The apartment smells of the cheapest of Chinese takeout when you drag yourself back inside late from work. Your boyfriend just barely peeks his head around the corner to come give you a kiss, gentle as he is, and slides back into his spot behind the stove. “Food’s here, and I’m just making some extra eggs for mine, because I gotta leave in half an hour.” The routine ramble is nice, you suppose, finding a smile on your face by the time you make it into the kitchen with him to wrap your arms around his back, and he hums. “Oh, one of your friends swung by, so I let him in a little bit ago- I left him on the couch.”

Haru’s hands are quick to pull you back when you let go, for just a second, as he leans down to press a kiss to your lips, and one to your nose. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too. I’m gonna go see who needs me- real quick,” you smile, “and then we eat together?”

“Mhm, perfect.”

The door out of the small kitchen leads into the main room, and you look around as you swing your bag over one of the chairs- but find the space strangely vacant. Though a small pout comes to your lips, you just walk along, passing by the desk with stacks of books and lecture notes, to pull open the door to your bedroom. Your house simply isn’t big enough to lose anyone even if you wanted to. The bedroom lights are off, as you step inside, toes curling instinctively into the carpet; before finally clearing your voice. “Hello?”

At the very moment you turn, the tiny door to the bathroom swings open and a tall shape clad in all black steps out— and you jerk with a loud gasp, only to start laughing when your hands meet his chest and you glance up properly. Matsukawa’s dark eyebrows are furrowed in surprise as he finishes drying off his hands, before he gives you a ‘what gives’ sort of look. “You scared me,” you chuckle, as you lean in to give him a hug. “It’s been a while, how are you? And why’d you swing by?” The way he manages to move his arm over your head without having to change positions to throw the paper towel into the trash isn’t lost on you.

“Can’t a guy come see his favorite ethics tutor on a tuesday?” The familiar deep rumble of his voice fills the room, and you make room to trail back to the couch.

“Well, considering I dropped out,” your voice is a little softer when you take a seat in the squeaky chair, “I’d say that it’s probably a waste of your time. But I guess I’m pretty glad to see you again.”

Mattsun plops down on the couch facing you with a little sigh, before that same self assured smile you’ve always known him to have returns. “Don’t make me feel too special, teach.”

“I’m younger than you! It’s not my fault you took ethics again and needed my help.” The banter is nice, reminds you about the hours and hours spent in the library that always grew too rowdy for a study session. Mattsun’s a good friend. A better one than you are, maybe. His long legs stretch out to the coffee table, before he nods.

“This is a nice place. Cozy.” The compliment makes you feel all warm inside. Despite everything, despite the struggles you and Haru have to deal with, the money, the debt- it’s nice to hear someone appreciate it. Even if that someone is the most well accomplished out of your late friend group. “And the boyfriend seems pretty fucking smitten too.” His dark eyes find your face when you smile wider, lacing his hands together over his knee. “Nothing to add? Come on, I missed you so~ much. I haven’t even seen you properly for the last 4 months. Talk to me. You normally don’t hesitate to run your mouth.” He chuckles when you put on a faux-pout.

“Fine, fine, hang on!” you beam after a second of thinking, and roll your eyes. “Let me make a pot of coffee. You jerk.”

“You love it.”

You aren’t the most observant of people, but you swear… you’re losing more shit than normal. Some of the stuffies that were proudly displayed on the shelves are gone, and you can’t find some of your panties no matter how hard you look. And while the small closet in the bedroom is more mess than order, now you can’t even find most of your old photo albums, and some keepsakes from highschool and uni. But with your boyfriend catching his sleep when you leave for work, and you returning late- no one has time to go looking for clothing that’s grown legs, let alone do a thorough clean. So you brush it aside, and move on without your favorite pair of lacy baby blue panties.

It’s only when your boyfriend’s watching the news on his laptop one day, that it tickles something in the back of your brain. As you stuff another bite of pasta into your face, your hands still on top of the unfolded laundry.

A feminine voice flies over the topics at breakneck speed, as the honey brunet suddenly turns up the volume a little and stops eating. “Yesterday, another casualty in a devastating string of murders was found. Passerby’s found the body walking by an alley in Miyagi prefecture at around 9pm. The victim has now been identified to be Kawada Eiko, the 25 year old nurse that was reported missing a few days ago. Strangulation or suffocation are the two current debated causes of death, authorities say. She might have been the unfortunate victim of a lover’s spat, as she was found with blue panties constricting her airways. More about this at 6.”

“Turn that down,” you quickly breathe, and Haru turns over his shoulder with concern in his eyes.

“Oh, sorry. ‘S a bit grim for lunch…” He simply gives you an understanding look, before suddenly turning to knock his knees with yours. “How about you pick something to watch? Here.” His hands reach out to pull you a little closer, and cradle you against his chest. It’s sweet. He always is. And though you nuzzle into his touch, the story doesn’t want to leave your brain. There it is again. That faint flicker of mortality staring you in the face.

The stern face of the police officer- burly, heavy mustache and old- is exactly how you imagine it’d be, made very clear by the dead-like tone and eyes as he gives you an up and down. “This your house?”

“R-rented, yes,” you’re in the pajama-est of clothes from when you pulled open the door, “of me and my boyfriend.” The officer gives a tiny nod to the other two men behind him, and pulls out his badge to present it to you. It’s too early for your brain to function properly, but you still swallow at the sudden severity of the situation. “What’s- the issue, officer?” Your voice sounds even mousier when his eyes narrow in on the scene behind him, and your measly apartment feels even more inferior than usual.

“Sasaki Haru’s been arrested and is currently being questioned for multiple accounts of aggravated assault and first-degree murder. And we have to search the property, young lady.”

You stop breathing.

Murder.

Your head thumps, and you feel a flare of heat bite at your neck, clutching the door handle a little tighter.

Murder, he said. Haru… arrested for murder.

“We’ll have to take you in for questioning as well. Why don’t you walk towards the car and have my colleague escort you—” You focus as hard as you can on the words that are thrown at you, but really, nothing hits. There’s a blanket of static over everything in your vision. You might puke.

“Hey, breathe out. You’re turning blue,” Mattsun’s deep voice washes over you like a wave as you clamp the phone to your chest and try your best to relax a little, a warm, heavy hand softly stroking the area between your shoulders. It’d been a total coincidence that he’d called just as you were done with the hours of terrifying questioning, but as soon as you’d sniffled out that Haru had been arrested, he took time off to come over. Here you are now, hovering between sleep and frightened awareness in the painful, sticky seats of one of the dead waiting halls.

And though you’re glad someone’s here for you, because Haru’s parents haven’t even called yet— you’re also a little too wired up to appreciate the sarcasm and jokey attitude. After another few minutes of nervously fiddling with your phone and staring through the small window at the other doors, Mattsun clears his voice. “So… murder, huh.” His dark eyes are intense as they flutter over your face, eyebrows straightened. “Do you think he did it?”

You find yourself glaring, even though you can’t say why. “No, of course not. He’d never. He’s… he’s so gentle—”

“They’re saying there’s evidence, y’know.” You know that. It makes you want to rip out your hair and sob, because they showed you the proof. The dna, a kitchen knife out of your drawers, traces of the perfume you always, always wear— but you can’t shake the feeling that only if you could talk to Haru, if you could see him, ask… Your intuition tells you he didn’t do it. Couldn’t have. And they’re wrong, they have to be wrong. You would’ve known if you’d been living with a murderer. You would’ve. You just have to wait for an alibi to show it.

“He didn’t do it, Issei,” you softly end up repeating, and Mattsun’s eyes basically roll themselves as he looks away. “I’m telling you, I know him, and he didn’t do it.”

“Maybe- you just don’t know people as well as you think you do, teach,” the brunet places his elbows on his knees, covering his mouth as he leans in as glances over at you. “You’re wonderful, ‘n smart, and kind. But you’re also naïve, baby…” The last word falls deeper, and drags a cold shiver up your spine that only gets more intense when he doesn’t laugh it off, or look away. Luckily though, the door to the waiting room is pushed open that very moment, and a tired looking woman taps her clipboard.

“You can go home for now. Get some rest. And please stay available so that if we need you to return-”

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” you start, and wring your sweaty hands together a few times, “what about Haru?”

Her sharp eyes soften a little when finding your face. “He’ll have to stay until they’re done with the investigation. It might be another couple hours, or days. He can’t see anyone until then.” Your dejection must show, because she sighs. “Head home, child. Try to sleep some. You’ll be okay.” You barely manage to have enough energy to get out of the chair, letting Mattsun take your hand and rub a few comforting circles into it with his thumb. And then you’re walking home as he holds the umbrella high above your heads, and that cold only worsens. You don’t feel okay.

It just doesn’t make any sense.

“How about my place instead of yours?” Issei’s more reserved when he asks, laying an arm over your shoulders to pull you into his side a little. “Doubt you wanna hang out there now that the cops have gone through it all.” It doesn’t matter, really, so you nod- let him walk along the crosswalk and steer you down the familiar streets in silence for a while. It really doesn’t make any sense. Haru’s been at work all evenings that the murders happened, there’s security cameras to prove it. And killing someone in broad daylight, alley or not— it doesn’t line up.

Issei squeezes your hand in his when the silence continues, and you briefly look up at him to give him a little smile that doesn’t feel like it reaches. “Sorry I’m so quiet. I’m just…”

“Lost in thought, I get it.” He hums, before pointing at the long line of buildings. “It’s just along there, we’re almost inside. Then we can talk about it, or you can take a load off, or whatever.” The short chuckle is meant to disperse the tension, you know that, but even the tall brunet seems on edge. You’re still holding his hand, and you find yourself blinking at it in quiet confusion. But the thoughts are louder than logic right now. And if Haru didn’t do it, which you will yourself to believe with all your heart —you have no choice but to— how the hell did stuff out of your house get to the scene of the crime. You never lended anyone that knife, and definitely not the even more private stuff—

Issei leads you through the gates into the courtyard of the apartment, then to the door, into the dim staircase all the while softly humming. And you don’t know why your heart sinks as you climb the stairs with him in tow, because the building smells nice, and the walk to the door is clean and high-class. “Tch, you really are,” his low voice barely reaches, and you raise a brow. “Naïve that is.” The humming goes into a soft laugh when you turn to look at him, and the tall man smiles down at you. But though he’s smiling, the hairs on your neck go to stand on end, shoulders squaring. The vivid, unnatural sort of intensity in his eyes rolls your stomach.

And you go to pull your hand out of his, only for Issei to resist the pull harder. “Shh, calm down. I got you, don’t I? Don’t tell me I scare you.” He does, though. “Come on, princess, we’re friends. And friends are there for friends when they need each other. Now you're poor boyfriend's gone.” Your mouth corners turn down into a half pout, half open in confusion. And you don’t know why, you never felt unsafe with him before— but every fiber in your body is screaming at you to run. You want to. But your body refuses to budge, let alone turn your back on him. Issei’s always been a very tall guy. Tall, but wired with athletic muscles from the years of sports, and strong, and fast— and all of these things never scared you.

But they do now. The shivers that roll down your spine are almost painful as you stare up at him and that happy-go-lucky grin still stays on. The corners of your eyes sting when you try again to pull away, to no avail, and Issei’s long legs pull you towards the door of his fancy apartment anyway.

“Issei, let go.” Your voice breaks, and tears creep up in your eyes and your shaky whimper. “This isn’t funny, let me go.”

“Nah ah, I got something to show you.” His casual sing-song response almost makes you angry. But you can’t be when you’re too busy fighting off a full-body panic and planting your heels into the tiled floor. “I got something to show you,” he repeats, glancing over his shoulder again. “Y’see, because I really like you. You make me feel all- hm- good inside.” His curly hair bounces with each step towards the door, before he repositions his grip to hold around your wrist when your sweaty hand almost manages to slip out. “But then you went and got a boyfriend, and disappeared on me.”

He fiddles with the keys for a second as you use your other hand and try to pry your fingers into his painfully tight hold, and frowns. “And I- stop struggling- I don’t blame you. I mean- it’s not like I can even explain this little earworm I’ve got. About how you and I just fit together. I should know better, right?” He’s rambling so fast, and the door manages to be swung open, and you bite back a sob. You want to scream. You want to scream, call out for help, do something other than get pulled in further and further, but it doesn’t work. Your body refuses. Your head’s blank. “I know I should know better. Yet here we are.”

He pulls with his entire body to get you over the doorstep, and grabs your face between his hands to aim it up to his, squishing your cheeks until your lips are a puckered pout. And his deep voice goes low as he whispers. “You didn’t like my little stunt with the panties?”

It short circuits you. Before you get to think about it, you knee him right in the dick with all your might, and push at his face until he jerks back— turning and sprinting back towards the door. But his reach is longer, and he tackles your feet, sending you straight onto your belly with a loud, unforgiving thump as your head knocks against one of the book cases, and his large hands wrap around your ankles. He pulls you back a few feet across the floor, and though you try to kick at him, he’s quick to get above you and restrain you.

”Help!” you squeak, voice more air than actual sound. “Help me!” Issei grabs you by your neck and kicks the door closed with his long legs, before going to sit on top of your back and squeezing the air out of your lungs.

“Awww, fuck, babe,” he groans for a long breath, before grabbing your head and pushing it down into the cold floor as if in punishment. The loud knock of your skull against the floor is enough to force your thoughts out of you. “That really hurts, fuck.” Then he shifts, one hard knee in the middle of your back. You can barely breathe, and the little bit of air you do get is obstructed by the tears blurring your vision. “Little kitty’s got claws, huh.”

“Issei,” you start to whimper through your hickuppy breaths when his palm slides down your neck and under the edge of your shirt, “please let me go. We’re friends. We’re friends, right? So let me go home, and I won’t tell anyone.I swear, I won’t- wo- please, please, ‘ssei.”

“Tch, don’t go begging on me yet, baby. I’ve hardly even started.” His large hands roam around your skin for a moment, before he rolls you over like you’re a ragdoll, and grabs your face again as he bends down until your noses are touching. Him, overtop of you, his free hand training down the surface of your thigh through your sweatpants.

His dark eyes glitter in the low light, animated and joyful despite the way you’re trying to calm your wheezes. Which doesn’t really help. The harder you try, the less air you manage to use— Mattsun’s heavy palm sliding to your throat to squeeze the tender skin there. “Hey, guess what.” He doesn’t wait for you to answer, before he starts picking anxiously at the stretchy band of your pants, sliding two fingers under it. “you turn me on so much it makes me want to fuck you until you’re raw. But you might’ve guessed that already, right?” There’s a low chuckle, while you’re sniveling under him with wet cheeks and a hot face, before he starts tugging your pants down your thighs.

You cross your arms over your face, and Issei laughs a little harder. “Aww, don’t cry. I know what you’re thinking, all the murdering and stuff, the blood, the choking, cutting open— it’s a lot. But luckily for you… all of that isn’t going to happen to you. Look, here-” he mumbles, pulling your arms away from in front of your eyes to force your smaller hand back in his, linking pinkies, “promise. They weren’t you, so I had to get rid of them sooner rather than later.”

By the time he finishes talking, you’re shivering without your pants, on his cold floor and tears all over your face- and for a moment Issei looks like the guy you knew when he pouts down at you. But then he licks his lips, and the relief is gone. “And you get I can’t let you go after this. So it’ll be easier for both of us if you play along.”

Then he gives you a once over like you’re a slab of meat, and hums, whispering under his breath. “I like when they play along.” It makes you cry harder, but barely any noise manages to come out, staring resolutely at the ceiling as soon as his hand lets your chin go to trail his fingertips along your tits. “So fucking pretty, baby.” The lilt of barely veiled excitement in his voice makes you want to sink into the floor, to just stop breathing altogether. You trusted him implicitly, and- though your skin is covered in goosebumps, it barely sets in that Issei was the one who—

You remember the disemboweled girl on the stretcher, the yellow tape. And bile rises in your throat, so you have to put a hand over your mouth not to throw up. Oh god, you’re… You’re cold on the floor, your tits being gently squeezed by Mattsun’s large, rough hands through your shirt as you try to make your mind go anywhere else, to no avail. Suddenly he gets up on his knees to slide his arms under you, and you start struggling against him enough to make him glare down at you. “Don’t be a brat. If you want me to-”

“Let me go, Issei! Let go, let go!” You’re squished to his chest, but you manage to smack him across the face and get a little bit of wiggle room, and he lets out a low rumble of displeasure, before dragging you further into the house and tossing you down onto the bed. It’s even darker here, smelling faintly of spices and men’s shampoo- but that isn’t what frightens you. It’s the heavy duty cuffs dangling from the metal bedposts, and the way Mattsun grabs a fistful of your hair to yank your head back into the bed.

“Don’t move. Unless you want me to get mad.” The painful tug makes you whimper, but you find yourself trying to slide out the other side of the bed as he bends to search through one of the bedside tables. Your legs are going a bit numb, toes tingly as you dare brush your feet along the floor and make a run for it. Of course, you have to round the bed, and he doesn’t have much of a hard time grabbing the back of your shirt. With one stern move, he swings you over his shoulder, large hand palm landing so hard onto the soft skin of your ass it makes you gasp and tear up. The touch pulses and aches as he slaps the same spot again, and now you’re crying- this time from the stinging of your skin as he tosses you down and forces your hand into sharp, cold handcuff.

His slight frown and the stern look he gives you make your body freeze up, but then he leans in. “You’re a dumb little baby, hm? You don’t get it?” His eyes are wide, pupils dark and blown all the way out to take up almost his entire iris. His hand appears from behind his back with something that glimmers in the low light, and is sharp as he pushes it to your cheek. “Not gonna play along?” The knife’s cold edge next to your ear makes you entirely wooden, staring up at him with shallow breaths and your lips trembling. As he peeks out his tongue, the knife digs deeper and breaks skin on your cheekbone.

And it hurts, clenching your teeth hard as tears spill over, it really fucking hurts. Burns, instantly making the skin feel taut and pounding and irritated. You gasp again, grabbing at his arm with a pitiful cry. “No, no, stop. Stop, please. I’ll play along,” you plead, voice hoarse as you clamp your hand around his wrist. The hot, searing feeling on your cheek and the way you feel blood run along your face and ear takes away all other rational thought. It hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. You want it to stop. “Please. Please, ‘Ssei, please.” The knife’s edge tingles as it leaves your wound, but the pain doesn’t go away, and you can’t help but sob. “Mattsun~”

However pathetic you must look, Matsukawa clearly doesn’t care. Because he groans, before leaning in to press his tongue to your wound, and then kissing you. And the coppery taste makes him moan into your mouth, while you try to turn your head away instinctively. His tongue forces open your mouth and melts with yours, sloppily claiming your mouth with a soft hum, heavy, large body coming to cover yours. He’s everywhere, as he grinds his hips into your panty-clad center and licks your mixed spit off his lips when he pulls back, throwing his head back.

You’re feeling a bit lightheaded, one cheek pounding painfully as you stare at him, and your one arm slowly but surely going numb from the uncomfortable position. But as you’re looking at him, he quickly rids himself of his shirt, and scoots you up the bed a little to drape your legs over his thighs. Even in the half-dark room, you can see them. The scars on his shoulders, his chest, ugly lines that healed over sloppily— proof that someone dug some nails of a key so sharp into him. Fought, and lost. It only makes you take a deep breath that makes a pinched, little noise. And Mattsun grins, rubbing his one hand along the skin.

“They were never close enough to you, y’know? Always something missing.” His one hand goes back to your chest, playing with your pebbled nipples through the fabric, before the knife returns and he drags it across your chest this time, pressing hard enough to cut your shirt and also the thin skin of your breast bone. “Oops, sorry.” The thin line of dots of blood that beads up has him bending to run his tongue along the little wound again, before ripping the rest of your shirt apart and sucking your tits into his mouth too. The warm mouth paired with the painful stinging and aching of your body has your stomach flipping and your mind blank.

Your free hand runs along his head to grab his curls in support, and his moans before biting one of your nipples. Then he pulls back to slap your tits around a bit, and running his thumb over the wound. Seeing the red before he slips it into his mouth is enough to have you squeezing your eyes shut, trying to block everything out. And Issei chuckles. “Aw, scaring my little baby, am I?” The sound of his zipper and the shuffling of fabric lasts for a few seconds. Your heartbeat is so fucking loud, and the stinging is loud, and his voice is loud, and everything is so fuzzy. You open your eyes again, only to find that same disturbing look in Issei’s eyes as he rubs his thumb over the slit of his cock, spreading all the precum around.

There’s a lot, you notice, and also that his heavy, flushed cock is big. Really big, too big, making your breathing even more rapid. It’ll hurt. It’ll hurt, it’ll hurt, it’ll hurt— your mind blanks when he starts peeling off your panties and manhandles your legs around however he wants, before the thick head of his cock is lined up to your too-dry pussy. There’s some wetness there, but not enough. You tear up more, because of the hurt, the pain, the fear, your lungs aching and everything else- and shiver when Issei talks again.

His voice is low enough to shake your bones. “You’ll have to fit me, okay? Okay?” His sing-song teasing has you nodding your head, and he puts on a cheshire-like grin again. “Because when they didn’t, I had to cut them open to make room-” he points the knife into your lower stomach then, point stinging as soon as it touches and digs into your soft belly, “-and I don’t want to cut up my favorite girl.” His thumb rubs lazy circles into the top of your slit, brushing your clit, before he spits on it.

Then he lines up, and starts pushing into your tight, clenched pussy without giving you a second to prepare, placing both hands next to your head and pushing himself into you while each inch fills you up more and more. It’s such a painfully tight fit your legs shake as he pushes you all the way full, and keeps pushing. “Aw, aw, aw, Issei- hurts, that hurts-”

“Uhuh,” he just nods, and kisses you again, smiling into the kiss and pulling back to watch you tear up. He moves one leg to push against your chest, and starts grinding his cock even deeper, pushing you open too much, and you cry— only to make him pull back and do it again, groaning. “Ah, fuck, princess. Fuck-ing- godly pussy, agh.” His huge dick pounds against your cervix every time he pulls back and bottoms out, bulging your stomach in a way that hurts even despite the pleasure. But his body slamming against your pussy each time does feel good, as much as you hate to admit it. It sends tingles down your spine that makes you forget about the hurt you’re feeling. “Tell me it feels good, hm?”

He leans into kiss you again, before turning your face to the side to rub his finger along the bloody mess on your cheek and make it hurt again. “Tell Mattsun senpai that his cock’s your favorite. And I’ll make you come so hard you go cross-eyed.” The pounding of the sticky, warm blood and the skin that aches, the way he fills you, makes you feel it all the way in your throat, how loud your heartbeat is in your head and how your lungs fill only with shallow half-breaths, has you crying out long and hard, squeezing your fingers into his bicep.

“Mattsun senpai~ cock-ahg- hick- my favorite.” You’re not sure you recognize the way your voice sounds as you say it, getting your mouth full of his tongue again as you choke on it and the way he forces his cock through your cervix. Hurts, hurts, feels so good it aches. You can’t tell up from down when his fingers return between your bodies, and he jackhammers his fat cock through you.

“I know, baby. I know. S’all for you now. All yours.”

#mattsun x reader #matsukawa x reader #haikyuu x reader #matsukawa issei #mattsun smut #matsukawa smut #haikyuu smut #hq smut #hq x reader #tw.noncon #tw.manhandling #tw.size kink #tw.belly bulge #tw.murder #tw.dark content #🍯honey.pot #💫ch.mattsun

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verslxt · 1 year

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thinking about collageau!mattsun who met you at a party and instantly fell in love. from the way you looked all the way from how you held yourself

thinking about collageau!mattsun who rizzed you up after the party and got you to go back to his house/dorm

thinking about collageau!mattsun who pounded your pussy like there was no tomorrow that night (with consent and a condom(wrap your fuckin dick))

thinking about collageau!mattsun who introduced you to all his volleyball friends and introduced you as just a friend

thinking about collageau!mattsun who finally realizes you want a baby after graduation and that you want to be more than just friends

thinking about collageau!mattsun who brings you food every time you have a long test (like finals or midterms) to study for. and it's always good ass food too

thinking about collageau!mattsun who bought a house close to campus once he graduated so that you wouldn't have to deal with dorm life again cause that shit sucks

thinking about collageau!mattsun has made me develop a huge crush on mattsun

thinking about collageau!mattsun who pounds your pussy senseless every night as long as you want him to

thinking about collageau!mattsun who already bought an engagement ring for you once you graduate

thinking about collageau!mattsun who like to grab the nape of your neck and kiss the hell out of you when you are working on essays

thinking about collageau!mattsun who just gives of big dick energy

thinking about collageau!mattsun who wants to put a pretty baby in your tummy. no seriously he says it every night

"you'd look so pretty with a baby in your tummy"

thinking about collageau!mattsun who has a fuckin massive breeding kink

thinking about collageau!mattsun who is just fucking hot lets be honest with ourselves

agghhhh i finished it! @buggy-cj here it iss. i'm lowkey really proud of this and mattsun is super fuckin hot alright

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x y/n #collage au #haikyuu smut #issei matsukawa #issei matsukawa smut #mattsun x reader #mattsun smut #smutty smut

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easybrainrot34 · 2 months

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He’s the kind of man that not only comes to girl's night out but is fully welcomed. Like POV he’s your boyfriend, you set up a girl's night, and he is fully integrated into girls night. He can be the DD, he can be the man who goes on a snack run, he can be the one who starts the evening by passing out shots like he can do it all. Oh you think you’re the host tonight ? Wrong. it’s him. If one of your friends becomes an emotional drunk, he becomes a therapist. If one of the girls is falling down drunk he’s giving piggyback rides. If it’s a girls night in and the charcuterie board runs low, he’s in the kitchen restocking it.

At least every girl has at least told you twice that they wish they wish there was a clone of your man. But if one of the girls is being suss, you know getting a little too flirty trying to get a little too close to him, he gently reminds them that he is wifey’d up. He also knows all the tea, all the drama, and is fully giving out advice (but if you don’t want advice, he’ll just let u rant).

- Bokuto, Kuroo, Daichi (specifically with him, he’s the kind of man to take everyone’s keys before the drinking starts), Mattsun, Iwazumi (although he has made everyone swear up-and-down that they would never tell Oikawa about girls nights, because he’s just not dealing with that), Ushijima (yes, he’s very stoic, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t know how to have fun), Tendou (if somebody tries to mess with any of you at the bar, he’ll fight a bitch) , and of course, Atsumu

‼️sidenote, I typically write head cannons in a genderless way so you don’t have to be female presenting for this it’s just basically anybody but men because the boys night would be totally different lol‼️

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu crack #haikyuu!!#headcanon #hajime iwaizumi #kotaro bokuto #kuroo tetsurou #atsumu miya #matsukawa issei #daichi sawamura #ushijima wakatoshi #tendou satori #haikyu #mattsun #x reader

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cottonlemonade · 22 days

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500 yen

warnings: Seijoh 4

_______________________________

“Over there by the benches, 12 o’clock.”

“Oh, pretty.”, Makki said.

Issei emptied his water bottle in deep gulps. “I’m going in.” He slapped his cheeks with both hands and rolled his shoulders, then looked at his friends expectantly. “Say something encouraging.”

Makki inspected his hands. “Not a chance.”

“Nope, but I can slap you, too, if that helps.”, Iwaizumi offered.

“Thanks, I think I’ll pass.” Issei’s shoulders dropped.

“Of course it’ll be fine, Mattsun. You got this.”, Oikawa assured him.

Once his friend left he added, “500 yen, he gets rejected.”

“Yup.”

“I don’t know.”, Makki interjected, trying to observe the situation covertly while Iwaizumi and Oikawa just blatantly stared, arms crossed, “She might be into it. I mean, tall protective boyfriend is something girls like, right?”

The other two looked at him.

“Yeah I know, I don’t believe it either.”

“I can tell from here that she’s out of his league.”, the captain noted, tilting his head and letting his eyes wander over your curvy figure.

Then Makki grabbed his shoulder and Oikawa’s jaw dropped.

“No way she is giving him her real number.”

“I think she might be. Look at that blush.”

Iwaizumi grinned, never having doubted his friend.

______________________________

✨ @starrbright ✨ 🫰🏻

#matsukawa issei x chubby reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #chubby reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu drabbles #mattsun x chubby reader #matsukawa x chubby reader #issei x chubby reader #matsukawa issei x reader #haikyuu matsukawa #hq matsukawa #matsukawa issei #haikyuu imagines #seijoh four

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etherrreal · 1 year

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“spare me the details”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah, so you think I’m charming?”

“I’m walking away now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he knows he should just leave it at that, knows it isn’t fair to take it any further, but still he tells you anyway, consequences be damned, “...I know I wouldn’t.”

Another murmur of thanks leaves your lips, an uncharacteristic shakiness lingering in your voice that he wonders might mean something more.

You still haven’t looked away. He knows now he doesn’t want you to. And he wonders, not for the first time, if maybe the risk to your friendship is worth it, if he should stop all this waiting and longing and just do something about it–

The blaring of an alarm cuts him off before he can get any further, one he’s sure the more practical part of you set on your phone well in advance to ensure you wouldn’t be late for your date. It shatters the moment almost instantly, leaving you wide-eyed as you finally seem to notice how close the two of you are, how long you’ve been staring at each other.

You swear and move away from him, slipping out of his grasp as you scramble across the room in search of your phone. You find it resting face-down on your desk and silence it with a swipe of your thumb.

You don’t turn back to look at him right away, almost like you’re taking the extra time to steady yourself before you face him again. He’s tempted to laugh, mainly because he’s pretty much doing the exact same thing right now.

When you do finally turn back to him, you find him standing with his hands shoved into his pockets, an attempt at appearing casual, despite the sinking feeling in his chest.

“Guess you should probably finish getting ready, huh?” Mattsun’s chest tightens as the words leave his mouth, lips curving into a smile he can only hope reaches his eyes. “Wouldn’t want to keep your IT nerd waiting.”

“Yeah.” It takes you a moment, but soon you return the gesture with a hesitant smile of your own. “Thanks again for all your help, Issei. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

He manages to choke out a strained “anytime” that he’s sure sounds unfairly bitter. Thankfully, you don’t seem to notice it, excusing yourself to touch up your makeup before you go, and because he’s a masochist, Mattsun follows, hovering just outside of the doorway to keep you company.

And as he watches you apply the finishing touches to your look, letting down the rest of your hair and touching up your lipstick, that sinking feeling in his chest grows and grows until he can’t ignore it any longer. Until it makes him ask a question he very well knows he shouldn’t.

“So, how’d you meet this guy again?”

You don’t answer right away, the question giving you pause as you spare him an odd look from the corner of your eye. You know as well as he does that the two of you don’t talk about things like this, at least not anymore. You’ve both learned it’s easier for everyone if you just spare each other the details about the people you’re seeing, and though you never agreed to it outright, it’s a rule you’ve both followed faithfully ever since. He’s not sure your friendship would’ve survived without it.

You seem surprised he’s willing to break it now, and honestly, so is he. Still, you decide to answer him anyway, though the guarded look in your eye makes him think you’d prefer not to.

“I told you, I met him at a happy hour. One of my co-workers introduced us. We talked, danced for a bit, and then he asked me out.”

“Right.” He crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the doorframe, hoping he sounds casual and disinterested, even though he feels anything but. “And was this before or after your fourth margarita of the night?”

You start to laugh, until you realize he’s being serious. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it does. Three-drink you is fun and likes to dance. Four-drink you, however, has poor judgment skills. Remember Aina’s birthday, when you, non-existent upper body strength and all, tried to do a handstand and nearly gave yourself a concussion?”

“Key word being nearly.” You grin, a mischievous glint in your eye nearly identical to the one you’d had on the night in question, and when all Mattsun can think is how endearing it makes you look, he knows he’s in trouble. “Besides, you’re one to talk. The last time you got drunk, I had to stop you from jumping the gate at Aina’s place, and that was only two drinks in.”

“In my defense, I was being chased–”

“By what, her six pound toy poodle?”

“Whatever. That’s not my point.”

“And what, pray tell, is your point, Issei?”

“My point is, what if you don’t actually like your IT guy as much as you think? What if he’s actually a huge creep and four-drink you just didn’t notice it because you had your margarita blinders on?”

He keeps his tone light and easy, hoping he sounds more concerned than jealous, because while he definitely doesn’t love the idea of you going out with someone else, he doesn’t actually want to make you think he’s questioning your judgment. He just wants to get you to reconsider things a bit without actually revealing how much he wants you to stay, how much he wants you.

“He is not a creep,” you say easily, in a firm voice that leaves little room for argument, and Matsukawa does his best to ignore how your words make him feel like he’s being punched in the ribs, how that feeling only worsens when he realizes this guy might actually be good for you. “He’s a sweet, cute, thoughtful guy who wants to get to know me better. He even left me a note on my desk this morning saying how excited he is to see me tonight.”

“So he broke into your office instead of just texting you about it?” He shakes his head, clicking his tongue. “I don’t know. Sounds like a creep to me. I wouldn’t blame you if you texted him right now saying you have to cancel on him. In fact, I’d even let you use my phone.”

“He didn’t break into anything, you weirdo. He was trying to be romantic, and it worked.” You cap your lipstick and set it on the counter, using a tissue to blot away any excess as you quirk an eyebrow at him in the mirror. “Why are you being so weird about this, anyway?”

“What? I’m not being weird about anything,” he denies quickly, though it’s hardly believable. You cast another odd look in his direction as you toss the tissue away, but still, you don’t call him out on it. And while part of him is grateful for that, there’s another part of him that almost wishes you would. “All I’m doing is expressing my concern for my best friend before she goes out with a man who may or may not have a history of breaking and entering.”

“Yeah, well, lucky for him, I don’t plan on pressing any charges.” You give your reflection one last look and smile, satisfied with your work. That’s when you turn to face him, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze as you pass him in the doorway. “So stop worrying so much, okay? I’ll be fine, I promise. Now come lock the door for me. I’ve gotta leave now if I want to get there in time.”

You head back into the hallway, and Mattsun, not having much of a choice, follows, though he’s not exactly happy about it. In fact, he finds himself dreading every step, knowing each one takes you further away from where he wants you to be, further away from him.

You’re by the front door now, dressed in your long coat with your purse thrown over your shoulder. You’re still talking as you remove your heels from the shoe rack and slip your feet inside. You mention something about there still being leftover stir fry in the fridge and how he shouldn’t wait up for you, but he can hardly register it over the sheer longing seizing his chest, worsening with every step you take towards the door.

And Matsukawa knows, long before he even says anything, that what he’s about to do is quite possibly the most selfish thing he’ll ever do in his life. But then he thinks about everything that’s happened between you two up until this point –about the fact that he has a playlist with all your favorite songs on it, about all the times he’s tucked you in after you’ve fallen asleep on his shoulder, about the way seeing you smile feels like home– and he figures it’s worth it.

Because the only thing worse than telling you the truth about how he feels and being rejected, he decides, would be keeping it to himself and regretting it later, the same way he’s been regretting it every day this past year.

“Hey.”

He says it so quietly that at first, you don’t hear him. It’s only when he calls your name that you stop, pausing in what you’re doing long enough to flash him a curious look.

And he knows he probably shouldn’t, knows it isn’t fair, but he braces himself and says it anyway, in the softest and most sincere voice you’ve ever heard him use.

“Don’t go.”

You blink, eyes wide as your body stills in the entryway. “...What?”

“Don’t go out with him tonight,” he repeats, stronger this time, firm. “Just stay here.” With me, he wants to add, but doesn’t, at least not yet. But then he watches the look in your eyes change, the confusion giving way to understanding, to shock, and he realizes he doesn’t need to. “Please. Just stay.”

For a long moment, you don’t say anything at all. You just stare at him, stunned, silent, a million emotions passing over your face in the span of a few seconds. There’s definitely anger, along with complete and utter disbelief, like you can’t even begin to fathom the fact that he’s doing this right now. If he’s being honest with himself, neither can he.

All he knows is that watching you walk out that door and smiling like he’s okay with it would’ve been another lie, and he’s so tired of lying to you, to himself. He’s tired of pretending that all the stolen glances and lingering touches you’ve exchanged over the years mean nothing, tired of pretending that he wants you any less than he actually does. He can only hope that you feel the same.

You have to know exactly what he’s trying to tell you, why he wants so badly for you to stay. You’re too smart not to. Still, you refuse to acknowledge it, eyes narrowing and expression hardening as you cross your arms over your chest.

Your reply is terse, stubborn, a question that sounds more like a warning. “And why should I do that?”

“You know why.”

“No, actually, I don’t–”

“Yes,” he interrupts you, quietly, knowingly, because you do. You do know. It’s written all over your face. You just don’t want to admit it, the same way he didn’t want to admit it when you found yourselves in this exact same situation last year. “Yes, you do.”

“No.” Your voice is low and sharp as you speak, the harshest he’s ever heard it, even as your eyes begin to water, even as your lip trembles. “No, I don’t– you can’t– you can’t do this to me, Issei. It isn’t fair. You can’t, not after everything, not when you’re the one who–”

“I know.” And the worst part is that he does. He knows you don’t deserve this, knows that he has the shittiest timing ever, but he can’t help it. He can’t let you slip through his fingers again, not after learning what it’s like to be so close to you, not after seeing the way your eyes met his in the mirror, like you could feel it, too. Like you could want him, like you could still want him, despite all the ways he knows he’s disappointed you. “I know that, okay? I know it’s not fair–”

“Do you? Do you, really? Because if you did, you wouldn’t be doing this to me right now.”

There’s anguish in your voice, thick enough to coat every word you say, a hurt so deep that he hates himself for not noticing it sooner. Even now, you try to hold it back, determined to keep him from seeing it and finding out how strong it is, how long you’ve held onto it, though whether it’s for your own sake or his, he can’t really tell. All he knows is that watching it happen makes him hate himself even more for doing this to you. Guilt coils around him and nestles somewhere deep inside his bones, tightening like a hand around his throat.

“This shouldn’t even be a conversation. Not again. Not now.” You shake your head and blink back tears, the grip you have on your keys tight and unforgiving. “You’re the one who rejected me, remember?”

It’s enough to make Mattsun wince, even more so because it’s true. “It wasn’t like– I didn’t mean to–”

“But you did, Issei! You did. Last year, when I told you I had feelings for you, you let me. You let me pour my heart out, let me kiss you– hell, you even kissed me back, and then? Then you told me it was a mistake, that it couldn’t happen, that you didn’t see me that way and that we were just friends–”

“I know what I said!”

He doesn’t mean to shout –it’s actually the last thing he wants to do, especially when he’s the one who screwed things up in the first place– but that’s what comes out. It stuns you both into silence, though it’s nothing like the comfortable ones you usually share. This one is heavy and tense, weighed down by the gravity of all that’s happened between you, by all the things you’ve left unsaid.

He shuts his eyes, pausing to take a deep breath as he rakes a hand through his hair. When he opens them and starts to speak again, his voice is much softer, though the tension between you is still there, like a fever you can’t seem to shake, a chain that binds you to each other, for better or worse.

“I know what I said, okay? And I lied. I lied about everything. Back then, what I told you, it wasn’t because I didn’t have feelings for you, because I did. I do.”

The confession leaves you both floored, though for very different reasons. Him because of how easily it fell out of his mouth, how right it felt to say it, and you because you can’t believe it, because it’s the last thing you expected to hear.

“You what?” Your eyes are wide, lips parted as you gape at him. “But you told me– when did you– how could you even–”

“How could I not? You’re smart as hell, not to mention confident and unfairly funny. You’re impossibly stubborn, too, especially if it’s something you’re passionate about, and so much kinder than you give yourself credit for. And god, when I look at you? I can’t– I can’t stop looking at you.”

He takes a step forward, bridging the distance between you, and you’re so stunned that you let him. It makes him brave enough to reach out a hand to you, cupping your face in his palm. Your eyes widen at the contact, but you don’t push him away.

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” he says, quieter now but still so sincere, as he brushes your cheek gently with his thumb. “So I need you to know, all of those things I said back then– they had nothing to do with my feelings for you.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me that?” Your voice cracks, a tear escaping your eye and rolling down your cheek, and it does something awful to his heart, knowing he’s the reason for it. “Why did you lie and say that you only saw me as a friend?”

And though the memory of what he’s done and of all the ways he’s hurt you still fills him with shame and regret, Mattsun knows that he owes it to you to tell the truth, so that’s exactly what he does.

“Because I was scared. We were friends for so long, and the way I felt about you –the way I still feel about you– I’ve never felt that way about anyone before. And all I could think about was if we decided to be something more, and things went wrong, then I’d lose you. And I didn’t– I couldn't risk that.”

The laugh that leaves your throat is bitter and humorless, even as another tear falls from your eye. He’s quick to wipe it away, though part of him knows even before he does it that it’s nowhere near enough to make up for everything he’s put you through. “So you decided to lie to me about it instead?”

He looks down, ashamed. “I’m sorry. I know it was shitty–”

“It wasn’t just shitty, Issei, it was fucking heartbreaking. You broke my fucking heart.”

You reach for his wrist and tug, removing his hand from your face and stepping away from him. The distance hurts you both more than you know, but you’re too upset to think about that right now, voice raw as you snap at him.

“When you let me kiss you –when you chose to kiss me back– you made me think that it was worth it, that you might actually feel the same way, only to take it back and tell me that you didn’t, that you wanted us to just stay friends.”

You’re practically shaking now, all that pain and heartache you’ve tried so hard to bury clawing their way back up to the surface, tumbling out of you before you can stop them.

“And hearing that fucking sucked, of course it did, but I accepted it because it’s what I thought you wanted, because our friendship meant more to me than my own feelings did. And now that I am finally making my peace with it, now that I’m actually trying to move on, you turn around and tell me that it was all a lie? That you actually have feelings for me?”

You shake your head, reeling and incredulous. Your eyes fill with tears while his heart aches to hold you, and it’s like you’re both reliving that night all over again.

Mattsun remembers it all too well, that night your senior year of college, when you, him, and the rest of your friends packed into Aina’s apartment for one of her notorious parties. The two of you stood together on the balcony, nursing lukewarm beers and lamenting your upcoming final exams. Neither of you were entirely sure what your plans were for after graduation, but what you did know was that you didn’t want to end the year with any regrets.

He thinks that’s what brought it out of you back then, what made you turn to him, nervous but brave, and say you had something you needed to tell him. He never would’ve guessed that you’d say you had feelings for him, or that you’d curl your fist into his shirt and press your lips to his only a few moments after.

And you’re right. He did kiss you back. He let you run your fingers through his hair and tug him closer, let his tongue dip into your mouth and his lips trail down your jaw and neck as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He would’ve kept kissing you, too, would’ve kept you breathless and whispered that he felt the same against your lips, the way he’d been feeling for so long, if it weren’t for the fear that planted itself into his head immediately after.

Because Matsukawa’s been in relationships before. They hadn’t all ended terribly, of course –he’s not that much of an asshole– but no matter what terms he and his previous partners had ended on, the truth of the matter was that they never spoke again.

And the thought of that happening with you –the thought of never speaking to you again, of losing you forever– terrified him, leaving him panicked and afraid enough to decide, right then and there, that no matter how much he wanted it –no matter how much he wanted you– this would be a road the two of you couldn’t go down.

So he pulled away. He lied, feeding you some bullshit line about not feeling the same and about the two of you being better off as friends, even though it broke his heart to do so, even though every fiber of his being ached to pull you back to him. Your lip trembled and your eyes watered, but you didn’t cry. You just nodded and accepted it, told him that you understood, that it was fine.

You didn’t see each other for the rest of the weekend. When you did finally meet up, it was for lunch at the campus cafe, a tradition between classes you’d established your freshman year. You agreed to stay friends, and then you never talked about it again.

Until tonight, of course, when he asked you to stay. Until right now.

It hits him, then, how selfish he’s been, how thoughtless. Before, Mattsun told himself that lying to you about his feelings was the best thing for both of you, the only way to ensure that your friendship would remain intact and to keep you from losing each other. Not once did he stop to consider whether or not that was something you actually wanted, and it’s only now that he’s realizing how deeply unfair that was of him.

Even now, he’s still being selfish with you, confessing his feelings an entire year later, as if that makes it better, as if he still has the right. And sure, you leaned into his touch earlier; sure, you let him run his fingers up your back and hold your waist, but that doesn’t mean you still want him that way. It doesn’t mean that you have to forgive him, either, not when he doesn’t deserve it.

Earlier, he thought being honest with you about his feelings was the right thing to do. Now he’s not so sure. All he knows is that he’s really, really sorry. That he hates himself for hurting you, and that if he ever really plans on doing right by you, then the first thing he needs to do is apologize.

So he does.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you, soft, sincere, and you know how much he means it. You see it in the way his shoulders slump, in the sad, regretful way he looks at you. “I’m sorry for lying to you and for making you believe I didn’t have feelings for you, even though I did. I’m sorry for hurting you. And I’m sorry for waiting to tell you all of this now, even though I should’ve said something sooner. I’m just– I’m really, really sorry. For everything.”

You don’t accept his apology, but you don’t tell him to go fuck himself, either, which is honestly more than he deserves. Instead, you take a tentative step towards him, folding your arms over your chest. Your eyes are still a little watery, but you’re not actively crying anymore, though a few tears linger on the curve of your cheeks. He wants to wipe them away again, but he thinks better of it and keeps his hands at his sides, unsure of how you’d react if he did.

“Why didn’t you?” you ask, and it’s not angry or sad anymore, just curious, confused. “Say something sooner, I mean.”

“Because it was too late. Because you were dating again, and it would’ve been wrong of me to get in the way of you being happy.” He shifts on his feet, guilty and apologetic, as he averts his gaze to the floor. “I figured you’d moved on. And even if you hadn’t, part of me was still scared of saying something and losing you anyway.”

“Then why risk it now?” You take another step, and his eyes jump back to your face, watching as you tilt your head at him, soft and seeking. “Why is tonight any different?”

“I didn’t think it would be,” he admits, because honestly, it shouldn’t have been. It wasn’t supposed to be, at least, until you gasped when his fingers brushed your skin, the sound embedding itself somewhere deep inside his brain. It did something to him, that sound, woke something up he had almost forgotten about.

“When you told me about your date, I thought I could pretend to be okay with it, that I could ignore it the way I’ve done before. And I was going to, I was trying to, but then…” He lets his voice trail off, lets his gaze lock onto yours the way it did before, warm and wanting. “Then I saw the way you looked at me in the mirror.”

Your eyes widen a fraction, lips parting. Your gaze jumps down to his hands, then back up to his face, and you swallow like you’re remembering it, too.

“I held you, and you let me. And I know it was only for a minute, but it just– I don’t know, it gave me hope, I guess? That it wasn’t too late. That what I was feeling wasn’t one-sided.” He shakes his head and lifts a hand to rub at the back of his neck, a small, sad smile curving its way onto his lips. “I know it sounds stupid–”

“It’s not.” You take his free hand into your own, and he watches, stunned, as you lift it towards you, letting his palm rest against the side of your face. He wonders if you notice his pulse pounding in his ears, how fast his heart is racing. “It’s not stupid.”

Slowly, tentatively, he wipes away what’s left of your tears, and to his surprise, you let him. You even go as far as leaning into his touch, cheek pressing gently into the curve of his hand. You open your mouth to speak again, a breathless little sigh of his name he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of.

“Issei, I–”

The rest of your sentence is cut off by the sound of your phone ringing. It’s a proper ring this time, too, not an alarm like before. And Mattsun knows, even before you look at it, that it’s your date who’s calling, just like he knows, even before you turn to him with that apologetic look of yours, what you’re going to do next.

Because Mattsun knows you, which means he knows that you’re the kind of person who always keeps her word, who makes plans and sticks to them. And like it or not, you made plans to meet with your IT guy tonight, plans he knows you’re not going to cancel on, no matter how much he wants you to.

His only consolation is that you look really conflicted about it, eyes flickering down to your phone in your hand, then back up to his face. It’s still ringing, but you’ve made no move to answer it. He almost starts to doubt that you will. Almost.

You don’t bother to say who’s calling, because both of you already know. Instead, you take a deep breath, voice heavy with uncertainty as you stare down at your phone. “I…I told him I was on my way. I didn’t think–”

“That I’d be selfish enough to ambush you with all of my repressed feelings before you could make it through the door? Yeah, me neither.” He tries to laugh about it, but it’s forced, hollow. It sounds nothing like him. “And again, I’m really sorry for that. The point is, you don’t have to explain yourself to me. All of this is my fault, anyway, remember?”

You frown at him, looking very badly like you want to argue, but something in his expression must stop you, because you don’t. Still, there’s guilt in your eyes when you meet his gaze again, and though it should make him feel better, he thinks it just makes him feel worse. “I have to go.”

“I know.” He brushes his thumb against your cheek once more before letting his hand fall back to his side. The smile he gives you is pained, sad. It doesn’t meet his eyes. “Be safe, all right?”

He takes a step back, letting you go for the second time in the past year. It feels just as awful and heartbreaking as it did the first, but he refuses to feel sorry for himself. He’s already been selfish enough with you tonight by confessing to you when you were halfway out the door. The least he can do for you after all that is to give you the space to move on.

The steps you take towards the door now are hesitant, unsure, so different from the way you felt only moments ago. It hurts, watching you walking away from him, but this time, he knows better than to stop you.

“Issei?” The sound of your voice draws his attention back to you, as you turn from the now open door to look at him from over your shoulder. “We’ll talk when I get back, okay?”

He doesn’t trust himself enough to speak, so he settles for just nodding. Just like before, you spend longer than you need to just looking at each other, gazes locked, a million things left unsaid between you.

And just like before, you’re the first to turn away, the door shutting quietly behind you.

The sound of your key turning in the lock makes Mattsun jolt up from the couch. He’s been laying there sulking ever since you left, a bowl of popcorn resting on his chest and a lukewarm beer in his hand.

He scrambles to sit himself up into a slightly less pathetic position, discarding the bowl of popcorn onto the coffee table. He considers putting the beer there, too, but ultimately decides against it, knowing you’d chew him out for not using a coaster. He ends up putting it on the floor instead and forces himself to stare at the tv in front of him, an old movie playing on the screen that he’s hardly paid any attention to, too busy stressing out over how your date was going and what the future of your relationship will be after all of this.

A quick glance at his phone confirms that it’s been less than an hour since you left. Forty minutes, at most. He wonders if that’s a good thing or a bad one. Don’t successful dates usually last longer? Or are you back now to tell him that things went so well that you have no interest in talking to him ever again? He isn’t sure, and the uncertainty makes him want to throw up.

The door opens and shuts, and he hears the usual sounds of you settling back into your apartment, the jingle of your keys in the bowl, the click of your heels on the shoe rack. Your feet pad across the floor, and then you appear at the foot of the couch, wearing the dress he picked out.

You look lovely. You always do. You’re a little nervous, too, standing with your hands clasped behind your back, a hesitant look in your eyes as you greet him. “Hi.”

“Hey,” he replies, for lack of anything else to offer. He gives a little wave, too, though it hardly does anything to ease the tension between you.

You nod at the couch. “Do you mind if I—?”

“Yeah, sure— I mean, no, of course I don’t mind. Go for it.” He shifts to give you a little more space, and you settle into the spot next to him, bringing your legs up to your chest. It’s tense and awkward, the complete opposite of how things usually are when you’re with each other. He doesn’t look at you when he clears his throat and speaks again. “You’re home early.”

“I wasn’t supposed to be,” is your quick reply. It’s blunt and honest enough to make him smile, despite how weighted things are between you now. “Earlier today, I was planning on spending the whole night enjoying my date, until this guy I know ruined it all by confessing his feelings for me right before I left.”

“That guy sounds like an asshole,” he says, only half-joking, and when he turns back to you and sees the way you start to smile, he figures it’s worth it. He leans back against the couch, running a hand through his hair. “You must really hate him, huh?”

“That’s the thing.” You reach out and take one of his hands, sliding your fingers through his own. It’s something you’ve done a million times before, but it feels different now, warm and deliberate in a way that has his heart racing. “I don’t.”

It surprises the hell out of him, hearing you say that –because honestly, after everything he’s done, you should hate him– but it also fills him with relief, makes him let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Still, it isn’t long before guilt starts to wash over him again, an awful, ugly thing that makes him want to draw into himself, if only you weren’t still holding onto him.

Mattsun looks down at your linked hands. Your grip is firm and tender, your skin warm and welcome against his, and all he can think is that he doesn’t deserve it. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did. After everything I put you through, you should hate me.”

“But I don’t. It’s true, what you did was stupid and selfish. You never should’ve lied to me in the first place, but it’s not like you did it to hurt me on purpose. You actually thought you were doing what was best for me, in your own weird way. And yeah, it was dumb as hell, but it’s not enough to make me hate you.”

You hold his hand a little tighter, squeezing your fingers around his. He wonders if you know how much it means to him now, how terrified he was at the thought of losing you.

“I could never hate you, Issei,” you say, and the honest, earnest way you meet his gaze makes him believe you. “I just wish you would’ve told me the truth sooner.”

“I should’ve been honest with you from the beginning. I’m sorry that I wasn’t.” He reaches out to you with a free hand, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear. “But mostly I’m sorry for hurting you.”

“I know. I forgive you.” You give his hand another gentle squeeze, brushing your thumb along the back of his skin. “Which is why I never actually made it to the restaurant for my date.”

He blinks, eyes widening. The shock is almost enough to make him drop your hand, but he holds fast, even as his gaze turns incredulous. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, really. I tried to forget about everything that happened before I left, but all I could think about was you. I was halfway to the restaurant when I realized I couldn’t go through with it. It wouldn’t have been fair to either of us, but mostly to him. So I called him and told him I couldn’t do it, and then I came back here.”

Mattsun tries very hard to hide his grin, but when you nudge at his thigh and flick his forehead with your free hand, an unamused expression on your face, he realizes he’s probably doing a shitty job at it.

“You could at least pretend to feel a little bad, you know,” you scold him, though there’s no real bite to it. “He’s a good guy.”

“Hey, I do feel bad.” The doubtful look you give him makes him reconsider his answer. “Sort of. Not really.”

You roll your eyes, muttering something about him being too smug for his own good, but you don’t stop him when he wraps his free arm around your shoulders, letting him pull you into his side.

“Honestly, I’m just happy you came back,” he says, soft and vulnerable, the way you always seem to make him. “I was really scared that you wouldn’t.”

You rest your head against his shoulder and shrug in a noncommittal fashion, though the way you nuzzle into him and squeeze his hand is nothing short of comforting. “Yeah, well, it was either that or find a new roommate, and honestly, in this economy, it just wasn’t worth the trouble.”

Now it’s Mattsun’s turn to roll his eyes, pretending to be annoyed, even as his lips curl into a smile. “Yeah, yeah, we get it, you’re hilarious.”

“Damn right I am. What was it you said again?” You lower your voice, teasing and playful, delivering an impression of him that’s not even slightly accurate but still makes you throw your head back and cackle like you’re the funniest person in the world. “Oh, baby, you’re so smart and confident and unfairly funny, I can’t stop looking at you–”

Mattsun’s entire face goes red, and he has no choice but to tackle you, the rest of your sentence fading into a gasp which is quickly followed up by a protest as he wrestles you on the couch. All of a sudden, you’re on your back, body pressed between him and the cushions as he hovers over you.

Then his hands are at your sides, tickling you into submission. You gasp and laugh as you try to roll your way out of his grasp and into freedom, and pretty soon he’s laughing, too, and all that tension and anxiety from before disappears, leaving behind the comfort and familiarity you’re used to, the one that feels like home.

Eventually, he takes pity on you, and your wrestling match turned tickle war ends, allowing you both to catch your breath. Still, he doesn’t let you go, easing himself up on his forearms to keep his weight off you, face hovering only inches above your own.

“I meant what I said before, you know. I really am sorry. For everything.”

“I know.” You brush your thumb along his jaw, eyes tracing the movement before flickering back up to meet his own. “So where does this leave us?”

“Wherever you want. I never should’ve lied to you, no matter what my reasons were. And I definitely shouldn’t have waited so long to tell you the truth. It was unfair of me to make that decision for the both of us in the first place. So whatever happens next, wherever we go from here, it’ll be up to you.”

He pauses for a moment, letting his words sink in. You seem satisfied by his response, if the way your eyes soften is any indication, and nod for him to continue.

“If you want me to walk away, then I will.” It’ll break his heart and hurt like hell, of course, but he’ll do it, if that’s what you want, because he meant what he said. What happens from here on out will be on your terms, not just his. “If you want to stay friends, then we will. And if you want us to try dating, I’ll be outside your room door at 7 tomorrow night to pick you up.”

You pause to consider it for a moment, tilting your head, and then the bright look in your eyes, the one he’s always loved, darkens just a bit, turning into something wanting, something deliberate. Something that looks like desire.

“And what if I want you to kiss me?” you ask, in that bold and daring way of yours, the one that drew him to you in the first place.

Mattsun’s eyes widen, heart nearly careening out of his chest at your words. Every bone in his body urges him to lean down, to close the distance between you and press his lips to yours in the way he’s been wanting to all night.

Still, he finds it in himself to pause, drawing back enough to meet your gaze and ask, “Are you sure?”

You end up closing the distance for him, teeth grazing his bottom lip and making him groan. “Very sure.”

He doesn’t hesitate anymore after that. He tilts his head and presses his lips to yours in a way that has you both sighing, mouth moving in tandem against your own. Your hands tangle in his hair while he uses one of his to grip at your thigh, fingers pressing into your skin as he lifts your leg and guides it to wrap around his waist.

You’re both breathless when you pull away, lips smudged with red, pupils blown wide. Matsukawa thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful. Your hands move from his hair to cup his face, thumbs brushing against his jaw.

“You gonna run away this time?” you ask.

“Never again,” he swears, turning his head just enough to press his lips to the inside of your palm. “I promise.”

And it’s a promise, you’re pleased to note, that he never fails to keep.

Written by: Dawn

#matsukawa x reader #mattsun x reader #matsukawa issei x reader #haikyuu x reader #matsukawa imagines #haikyuu imagines #matsukawa x y/n #matsukawa x you #haikyu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #hq x reader #our writing #matsukawa angst #haikyuu angst #dawn writes

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makkir0ll · 1 month

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summer heat

(reader x mattsun)

959 words

{a/n: I did in fact finish writing this at 12 am. So excuse any grammar and mistakes. But this in fact my first ever piece I'm publishing here. So if you have any sort of constructive criticism please tell me (kindly though) anyways enjoy}

it was mid-summer, and its that point of the month where the temperatures were at their all time highs, and the fact that your air conditioning broke didn't make it any better.

it's late at night, you and your boyfriend mattsun couldn't sleep comfortably. The humidity and heat mixing which made your sheets stick to your sweaty body in discomfort.

the two of you had made your way to the living room couch. The room is dim with only the fairy lights you hung in your apartment giving it a comforting glow, and the light of the television playing your favorite show shines on your faces. The windows are open to let the cool night breeze in along with the fans spinning at the highest speeds in attempts to cool the both of you down. You and mattsun lay on opposite ends of the couch, not being able to sit close to each other without being uncomfortable, but your legs meet in the middle, tangled with each other.

"Its so hot" you groan in annoyance. Mattsun glances over at you, wishing he could do something. Anything. To put the two of you out of this misery.

"I know baby, tomorrow we'll call the landlord again and I'll make sure he fixes it. And if not, we can crash at Makki's" he responds in a sweet tone, putting his hand over your shin to comfort you. You smile at the gesture.

He feels the weight of the couch shift, he glances over at you get up and walk to the fridge. You open the freezer and grab two ice cubes, you turn back around to face him with a grin on your face. He smiles dearly at you as he watches you walk towards him, handing him the cube. He puts the cold cube on his body, the cool touch soothing him. You move his legs aside as you rub your ice cube all over your neck. You sigh at the feeling.

In that moment, mattsun can't seem to get his eyes off you. You look so beautiful to him at that moment. Your hair tied back in a bun with your front layers clipped back. You're wearing a sports bra and the shorts you've had since high school. You're wearing your glasses, that you only wear at home or when you're too lazy to put in your contacts. He wishes you always wore your glasses.

"What are you staring at? Do I have something on my face?" you question, looking at him, and putting your fingers around your mouth. Maybe some of your dinner had missed your mouth. He shakes his head no, and you turn your head back at the tv.

Suddenly he feels like this moment right here, this is it. Sitting on your couch as your favorite tv show plays in front of the two of you. He reaches his hand into the pocket of his shorts and he feels the small velvet box he'd been carrying around with him everywhere since after your one month anniversary.

Now he sits here, next to you, two years later on the couch the two of you bought when you first moved in after a year. His stomach is doing flips, he can't believe what he's about to do, but he knows that this is what he wants for the rest of his life. He's known since the moment he laid eyes on you.

"Will you marry me?"

"What?!" you say in shock, whipping your head to his direction. All your focus is on him.

"Will you marry me?" he asks again. His stomach churns, he feels butterflies in his stomach, his heart is beating faster than imaginable, and he starts sweating. Not because of the heat this time. He moves down to the ground and gets on one knee, pulling the box out his pocket, opening it to reveal the ring.

"Y/N, for as long as we've been dating that I was going to marry you. Fuck, since the moment I laid my eyes on you I knew. I-"

"Yes." you cut him off

"What?!"

"Yes. YES. YES! A MILLION TIMES YES! I'LL MARRY YOU!" You yell as you jump onto him. You have a couple of happy tears streaming down your face as you and mattsun lie on the floor of your apartment, bodies tangle with each other.

He shifts his weight so that you straddle his lap now. You cup his face, leaning in to give him a kiss. "I'll marry you any day" You say between kisses. He smiles and pulls you impossibly closer to him. He pulls away and grabs your left hand, sliding the ring onto your ring finger. It fits perfectly. Its in the metal you always wear, something he noticed immediately. It has a small diamond in the middle, nothing too fancy. You look at it in awe.

"I know its not much, but it's all I could afford at the moment." He looks at you, rubbing small circles on your hip.

"It's perfect." you say softly. Looking back at him. "It's everything and more. I love you"

"I love you too." He puts his hands behind your neck, pulling you into a kiss. You gladly kiss him bacl. It's soft, its intimate...

Its....cold?

You both feel a gush of cool air blow against your bodies. You break the kiss and stare in disbelief and turn to your air conditioner, seeing it had turned on. You giggle at the coincidence of the timing, and you guys go back to what you were doing before.

Its still late at night. You and your fiancé mattsun lay in bed sleeping comfortably in each others arms with a feeling of love in the air.

#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#mattsun #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa fluff #mattsun x reader #mattsun fluff #matsukawa issei #seijoh #hq imagines #hq fluff #hq x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines

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heich0e · 1 year

Text

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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