#TY FOR SENDING MAKKY...

[ahogedetective]

intimacy: in a heated moment, my muse bites your muse's neck. (chomp her chomp her chomp her)

{ vampire inspired action prompts ! }

The nights where he spent it with his lover, were always the most desirable ones for the vampire. Ah he cuddles her close onto his bed, they were locked into a passionate kiss, the vampire emitting a deep hum as he savors the taste of her tongue. When they have to eventually pull away from each other, he lowers his head to her neck.

"Iako...." He whispers into her neck, before he would proceed to plant slow kisses against it. The kisses eventually become rougher, along with small bites and suckles to different parts of her neck, especially any areas that she had a more vocal response.

And... while he wasn't exactly hungry enough to need blood: the more he played with her neck, the more that familiar desire to sink his teeth into it, rose within him, with his eyes even shining that eerily golden glow whenever that urge rose. "Ahh...this is no good. I really....want to..."

The hands that were tightly wrapped around her body, give it a squeeze as he begins lapping at her neck. And then, with more force this time: he bites down hard enough, where his teeth sink into her neck.. a low moan vibrates through him, holding himself back from sucking her blood. The reaction he gets out of her, makes his whole body tingle in delight.

Something about sinking his teeth into her neck, but not because he needs to feed: it felt...nice....and before he knew it: after he pulls his fangs out and laps up any excess blood, he gives several hard bites to other parts of her neck. "Mmm..." Normally, he would hate the thought of giving her several puncture holes: but right now, that desire to give her tantalizing bites, overrides that feeling.

"... Forgive me, Iako..." With several more laps to her, he finally raises his head up to stare down at her. "I...could not help myself. Your neck...is irresistible to me....."

[jinchuls-moved]

echo my love, hope work wasn't too rough today, sending you lots of kisses and hugs (and heating pads) <33 talking about heating pad, just imagine mattsun coming to pick you up from work, heating turned up in his car and passenger seat already warmed up just for you because he knows that it helps to soothe your cramps and pain even if only for a little :( such a sweetheart

sweet bee ty, work wasn’t too bad, slow but not bad.

imagining it rn. i think he’d have the dorkiest lil car decor, a custom bobble head of makki bought by makki, and it’d be so cozy i’d feel better immediately. and we’d pick up food on the way home because neither of us could be bothered to cook. cuddles (with the cats) mandatory when we get home

[zhowongli]

hei mandy guess wat i lov u

uuuuu this is straight shot of serotonin!!! i luv u too 😌🥺💖

[gingersnaaps]

one-way ticket

hanamaki takahiro is not unemployed, contrary to popular belief. he just doesn't tell his friends what he does for a living.

wc: 3.6k

tags/tw's(PLEASE! PLEASE! READ TY): explicit n*fw, dubcon to noncon/RAPE, yandere vibez, manipulation, abuse, lotsa degradation, slight dumbification, some internalized misogyny?, fingering, cunnilingus, penetration, sex worker!reader, porn producer + talent makki, fem + afab reader

additional disclaimer: probably incredibly inaccurate portrayals of sex work + the amateur porn industry. this is very far removed from real life, in case you couldn't tell

a/n: written for @seijorhi's deal with the devil collab! not proofread as always <3

i don’t want minors interacting with my content

When you first see the ad, blue and pixelated and in all caps - HOT GIRLS WANTED!!! FREE FLIGHT INCLUDED - you hesitate for just a moment. You’re not stupid. You’ve seen the stories, read the warnings, heard all about the cautionary tales of girls who clicked the wrong button at the wrong time on some sketchy, underground site. You know what happens to girls who think they’re all grown up, who get themselves into deep, deep shit.

You know better than this.

Then you take a look outside your window, eyes flickering over the sleepy, rural backwater outside the thick glass pane, and the hesitation vanishes.

The email you draft up is short and concise - I’m interested. Email me back. - and attach three images: one where you’re winking, lips curved up in a sly smile, one with a very low-cut top, and one of yourself in the tightest, shortest dress you own.

You hit send too fast for the second thoughts to settle in, and close your laptop before you can press the undo button.

Now, in his time as a producer, Hanamaki’s filmed and worked with his fair share of pretty girls. Sweet little things with long hair and doe eyes, glamor girls with the perkiest, gravity-defying tits, girl-next-door types who sport glasses smeared with cum - he’s seen it all.

But there’s just something about the way you look in your pictures.

He can’t quite put his finger on what it is, Maybe it’s the innocence that the images exude, despite how lewd they are. Maybe it’s your face - god, you have the perfect face for porn, don’t you - or maybe just your big, round eyes, full of hope and promise and naivety.

You’re too good to let other men handle. The minute Hanamaki lays eyes on those pictures, he wants you to himself.

He replies to your email, keeping his tone casual, and when you respond right away, he allows himself a grin. Beautiful and easy? He’s too lucky, really, considering the way you just fell into his lap.

He buys the plane tickets within the week. He knows you’ll take him up on his offer. He knows exactly what girls like you are like, the way you’re all looking for something bigger, something better - anything at all, as long as you get to escape the drudgery of the small towns and the suburbs. It’s terrible being stuck in the same place for so long, and even worse when faced with the prospect of spending the rest of your life there. Girls like you long for something more than just a family and a white picket fence, and he’s all too familiar with the sweet sense of desperation that desire comes with.

After all, it’s his job.

-

When you step off the plane, eyes scanning around the sea of strange faces, it takes you a while to pick out Hanamaki. His strawberry-blonde bangs cling to his forehead, damp with sweat and curling in the humidity. When he finally catches your gaze, he flashes you a lazy smile, eyes sparkling with humor, and waves you over.

“Hey. Told you you wouldn’t get lost,” he says.

You manage a shaky laugh. “Yeah, well… never been this far away from home before, so you know how it is.”

He knows very well how it is.

“C’mon,” he says, reaching out a hand to carry your luggage for you. “Let’s get you settled in - the sooner the better, right? After all, we’re gonna be roommates.”

He winks at you, carving out a path amid the crowd to the nearest exit. There’s a strange, unsettling feeling in your gut, and it suddenly hits you - you’re alone. You’re by yourself. There’s no family here, no friends, none of the familiarity of your hometown.

All you have is Hanamaki, and as he twirls his car keys around on his finger, his eyes narrowing playfully, you’re seized by the unshakable feeling that you’ve fucked up.

-

“This is the ‘Yes and No’ list, by the way,” he says, pointing to a dense section of tiny font. “Just mark off the things you wouldn’t be okay with doing.”

The thick wad of paper he’s dumped in front of you is apparently the contract that’ll dictate the next few months of your life. You can’t really be bothered to read all of it, and you skim through most of the non-disclosure bits before you arrive at the section you’re most interested in: the terms that dictate your limits on set.

You swallow uncomfortably as go down the list of sex acts, one by one.

Creampie - Yes

Blowjob - Yes

Throatfucking - No

Facial - No

Bondage - Yes

Degradation - No

There’s a whole bunch more after that, each described act sicker and more depraved than the last, and you can feel your stomach churning unpleasantly as you scrawl a hasty signature at the bottom.

“And once you’re done with that, we can get the cameras rolling,” he adds, patting your shoulder. He leans down, breath warm and sticky by your ear. “You’re gonna be a star.”

You feel sick.

When you first arrive, you’d let yourself be lulled into this false sense of security and comfort. He took you out to dinner every night, brought you into clubs you’d never even dreamed of before, treated you like an absolute princess. You’d almost forgotten what you signed up for in the first place. You’d almost forgotten that deals go both ways.

“Nervous?” he asks. You nod hesitantly.

He knew full well the answer to that. All girls are nervous at first. Sex is something that’s supposed to be intimate and private, and even if there’s no emotional connection, there’s always an inherent vulnerability that comes along with stripping all your clothes off. It’s not natural for cameras to be recording someone cumming and drooling all over the sheets.

But that’s just part of the fun, isn’t it?

He can’t help but focus on how exposed you look, all scared and pitiful as you apprehensively eye the camera. He sets it up with a few practiced motions, clicking the record button, and ignores the strain of his cock in his pants. He’ll get to that part soon enough.

“Don’t worry,” he assures you, climbing onto the bed. There’s a glint in his eyes that makes you very worried. “I’ll be gentle this first time.”

After that - well, he can’t make any promises. His self-control isn’t always the best.

He puts a pillow under your head, laying you down so the camera can capture a better angle, and hooks a finger under the waistband of your shorts.

The feeling of his skin brushing against yours sends a sudden wave of nausea through your body. It all feels wrong; his hands shouldn’t be touching there, your shorts shouldn’t be coming off, his lips shouldn’t be pressing against yours, no matter how soft they feel -

“So sensitive,” he purrs, trailing a finger along your damp, clothed pussy. You squirm involuntarily, little gasps and moans pouring from your mouth as he massages your clit. “Putting on a show for your future audience?”

The little bit of resistance left inside you shrivels up and dies.

The rest of the night passes in a blur. You don’t remember much except the heavy feeling of your chest, as if the four walls of the room were squeezing in on you, constricting your airways until your breaths are quick and shallow and desperate. There’s a word for that you don’t remember until much later - panic.

His fingers roam over every inch of your exposed skin, lips pressing against your thighs and pussy, coaxing your hole with gentle, teasing touches until it drips for him. You don’t remember anything at all except for the slick, wet trail of cum pooling between your thighs at the end of the night.

As for Hanamaki? He’s having the time of his life. There’s nothing quite like that moment of initiation - that first time - and he savors every single delicious reaction he pulls out of your body, every little twitch and shiver, all the lewd gasps and moans. You might be blanking out, but he’s hyperaware. He loves corrupting sweet, pure girls like you who’ve gotten in over their head, and he especially loves watching the realization set in.

He thinks this one is gonna go viral.

-

You wake too early the next morning, shivering in the cool air. The window’s open, and you can hear the sound of birds, the rustling of the trees, the faint hum of traffic in the distance. It feels calm. Peaceful.

Well, as peaceful as it’s possible to feel, considering you’re a few thousand miles away from home. You turn over onto your side, wincing at the feeling of soreness between your legs.

Then you hear a moan.

It’s a shameless one, loud and unabashed, and it’s coming through the paper thin walls that separate your room from Hanamaki’s. There’s a brief moment of annoyance - couldn’t he have gone and taken a shower? Couldn’t he have done it in the shower? Or maybe just kept it down, perhaps?

There’s a noisy mix of grunting and squealing, the audio tinny and distorted, and you realize he’s watching porn. It shouldn’t be much of a surprise, really, but the annoyance quickly turns to disgust after a few seconds pass.

“F- fuck yeah, baby, just like that, just like that, you’re doing perfect don’t stopdon’t stopdon’t stop - right there, good girl - “

There’s a soft moan, coming from what you assume is the porn he’s watching - it’s your voice.

“- god, you’re so fucking good to me, so pretty and perfect, gonna make you all mine, mark you up, gonna ruin you, sweet girl - “

You dive back under your comforter, trying to muffle both your ears, but he’s so fucking loud the neighbors can probably hear him. It’s useless to try and block out his gross, overdone moans, the wet squelching of his hand pumping his dick, the heavy breathing that makes you feel sick.

Why did you ever agree to his offer?

You stay under the comforter for what feels like forever, trying to steady your breathing, squeezing your eyes shut as tightly as possible. You find yourself frozen long after he’s done jerking himself off, long after the pitter-patter of the showerhead turns on and then off again. You want to stay there forever.

A knock sounds at the door, and you swallow nervously when you hear the telltale creak of the hinges.

“Wake up, sleepyhead. I made us breakfast. Gotta keep your energy up if we want to film something else fun later.”

You stay silent.

“Hey,” he says, footsteps shuffling closer. “You there? Hello?”

He’s mere feet away now, concern apparent in his voice. You squeeze your eyes even tighter, as if you were one of those toddlers who lacks any understanding of the concept of object permanence, because maybe if you pretend he’s not there -

“Geez, you’re really all knocked out, huh?” he says, lifting the comforter off of you. “You alright?”

Your eyes are reddened from the silent crying, your fists clenched at your sides, and your throat feels dry and scratchy.

“Hanamaki,” you say, voice shaking. “I want to go home.”

There’s a moment of silence that seems to stretch on for ages. He sits down beside you on the bed, taking your hand into his lap, and strokes his thumb over the back soothingly. He chuckles softly, and something that feels vaguely like fear settles in the pit of your stomach.

“You’re joking, right?”

Your eyes fly open, and you jerk away from his touch. “No, I’m not. I want to go home. I don’t want to do this.”

“Shame,” he says, shrugging. “They usually last a few more shoots. A few more months.”

He moves the comforter back so it covers your body, pulling it up to your chin. It’s a mockery of comfort, a parody of compassion.

“I just have one question,” he says, eyes narrowing. “Go home to where?”

“Back where I came from. Where you ordered the stupid fucking plane ticket from. My boring hometown, where my parents and friends and family live. Home, Hanamaki. Don’t play dumb.”

There’s another brief moment of silence. It’s as if he’s thinking, processing - or maybe the time he’s taking is for your sake.

“Your idea of home is a bit more fragile than you think, you know.”

“The fuck do you mean?”

He sighs, kicking his feet up onto the bed. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone, and loads the video that the two of you had filmed yesterday - the same video he’d been watching this morning.

“I give it a week before your friends find out. Your parents, a month tops. That’s the best case scenario.”

His words feel like a punch to the gut, and you’re pretty sure something breaks inside you when he turns the phone screen and you see yourself on there. Your face, your hair, your body - it’s undeniably you.

“We’ve got a few thousand views already. Once something’s on the internet, it’s on there forever. And everybody watches porn. You know that, right?”

He takes your hand back into his lap, but this time, his grip is iron. His fingers grip your wrist so tightly it hurts, and when you try to pull away, you realize just how much stronger he is than you.

“You won’t be going anywhere.”

-

He waits another day or two to film the next scene he’s got planned out. You’re still moping around the house, all sad and sullen, slamming the door in his face whenever he goes to graciously check in on you. It looks like you’ve settled on giving him the silent treatment, but at least you’ve stopped trying to steal his car keys. Another few weeks, and you’ll get over yourself. He’s sure of it. You’re a big girl, after all.

He’s got big, grand plans for you. You’ve got something special - you’ve got what it takes - and he’s not stupid enough to waste talent like that.

In fact, there’s something a little more niche that he’s been waiting to try ever since he first laid eyes on you.

He sets up the camera in his room, adjusting the focus and exposure to his liking, and inserts a new memory card into the empty slot on the side. He might need the extra storage tonight. His equipment really isn’t anything fancy - it’s more than enough for his purposes - but for just a moment, he wishes he had something a little fancier to do you justice.

“Come on in,” he says, straightening out the sheets one last time. “We’re using the fancy lube today.”

You push open the door and enter the room, shooting him a withering glare. It’s a bit hard to take you seriously in that gorgeous lingerie he bought for you, though, the matching set stitched with all white lace and smooth silk. You look gorgeous. Angelic, even.

He doesn’t have to use chains or rope to keep you in place, although he’s not discounting such methods at all. There’s a certain threat in the way he keeps your bedroom door locked at night, the way he forces you to eat dinner with him everyday. You’re not a guest; you’re a prisoner, and one with nowhere to run to.

Hanamaki pulls you in for a soft, light kiss, lips brushing experimentally against yours, and deepens it to something slow and sensual when he feels you start to squirm. He presses your shoulders down into the mattress, climbing on top of you, and his touch feels like fire where it burns a path across your skin. You feel that familiar sensation of dizziness, of lightheadedness; every ministration of his skilled and purposeful, a deliberate attempt to steal the oxygen from your lungs and leave you choking on your own ashes.

His lips begin to make their way down your neck, glossy with spit and swollen from the kiss, finding your pretty tits, laving over the skin of your stomach, trailing downwards until he gets to your throbbing clit. He can feel your arousal, even through the fabric, and he presses the flat of his tongue to your slit.

There’s a soft, broken moan somewhere above him, and he feels a sudden rush of victory. He starts lapping at your pussy, pushing the tip of his tongue to mold the wet lace to the outline of your cunt, his fingers trailing up and down your inner thigh as he eats you out. He innocently nudges aside your panties after soaking them through, peering up at you from between your legs, and flashes a crooked smile.

“You’re gonna cum for me, pretty slut, whether you want to or not.”

The nickname sends a brief jolt of confusion through your gut - he’s never called you anything like that before, even when he’d threatened you. It’s demeaning, base, wrong. You’re not - you’re not that kind of girl.

He can see the turmoil on your face, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on.

“Bet I can make you moan like a whore, too.”

He doesn’t give you time to react, flicking his tongue through your tender, dripping slit, mouth slurping greedily at your swollen clit. He loves eating girls out, loves the taste, loves the scent, loves the reactions - the poorly stifled moans, the useless attempts to still the twitching and jerking(they’re the natural physical reactions to pleasure, after all), and the pathetic, unstoppable orgasm that he gets to wring out every time.

Your face is flushed with heat, blunt teeth digging into your tongue, eyes squeezed tightly shut. You’re trying to think of someplace else, something else, anything at all except the man in between your legs - but it feels so good. You can’t ignore the pleasure that the licking and sucking ignites, can’t distract yourself from the tightness twisting in your clenched cunt that threatens to burst at any moment.

He pulls away.

“Hmm,” he says, sitting up, brushing a thumb over your pussy. “Wanna see you go stupid on my cock today instead.”

“Hanamaki, I -”

“What’s the problem, sweetheart?” he asks, maneuvering you easily into his lap. “You’re not a stupid whore? Not a dumb slut? Not my sweet little fucktoy?”

You can feel the outline of his cock pressing against the softness of your thigh, hard and long and terrifying. Your throat feels suddenly dry.

“Hanamaki,” you say, voice breaking quietly. “Don’t say those things.”

He reaches out to caress your cunt, fingers dipping into your entrance, and you squirm backwards to get away from the touch. Still so sensitive, he thinks. So cute.

“I think I’ll say what I want,” he says, plunging two fingers deep inside.

It’s not hard to stretch you out, finger curling and stroking your little hole until you’re writhing around his dexterous fingers. You’re already aroused from the attention he’d given your pussy earlier, the mixture of your juices and his split soaking the entrance, his finger slipping in and out easily.

There’s almost no resistance when he pops the head of his cock inside your slick pussy, and he lets out a loud moan at the feeling of warmth that envelopes him. And since you’re so well prepared already, there’s no need for him to hold back, is there?

“Ready?” he asks, laughing. “Although the answer doesn’t really matter if taking cock is the only thing you’re good for.”

The pace he sets is fast and hard and unforgiving, each rough, sloppy thrust bottoming out against your cervix. Even as you cringe in pain, wincing as his skin slaps against yours, the delicious stretch of his cock against your sensitive walls still feels so good. It’s a dizzying mix of pain and pleasure, one that sends you into overdrive, heart pounding and legs shaking as you whimper.

“Hiro - ah! - please slow -” you cry.

He shoves two fingers in your mouth before you can finish, shutting you up and making you gag slightly. “Oh, so now I’m Hiro? Not Hanamaki anymore, huh?”

Each hard thrust is jolting you up and down on his lap now, his fingers digging into the skin of your tummy as he stuffs you full. Are those tears, baby? He thinks you look so pretty, sobbing and drooling for him like that.

“Fuck,” he moans, burying his face in your neck. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Cum with me, slut, c’mon. Milk my cock dry.”

Hanamaki really is a gentleman; he saves his load until he can feel you tightening around him, until your breathing starts to hitch and you’re squirming back and forth. It’s silent in the room except for the lewd, gross sounds of skin-to-skin contact, slippery and wet and exaggerated.

“That’s it,” he breathes, pulling you off his cock.

His cum is dripping out of your tired cunt, the thick, white liquid spread all over your thighs, staining his pants, wetting your sheets. It’s a pretty sight. One that he wants to see again - no, one that he will see again.

“Hanamaki,” you sob, your body shaking all over. “The contract said you wouldn’t say those things.”

Did it? Well, that’s too bad. He doesn’t really read those things too carefully. Boundaries and limits are so often flexible in these situations. At least, that’s what he’s learned over time.

He reaches out, grabbing your face with his fingers and squishing your cheeks together. It’s terrifying to be held so close to him, eyebrows raised and a nasty grin on his face. You feel so small, so vulnerable - completely at his mercy.

“Next time, I’m gonna use your throat and cum on your face.”

It’s a promise.

i really appreciate reblogs + comments if you enjoyed this!

[svnaslove]

stolen scruchies.

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 ; [requested] @shaquill3oatmeal ;  Hi can I request and oikawa kuroo akaashi and konoha where they steal there s/o scrunchies and put them around their wrist

𝐚/𝐧 ; omg this request is so cute !! ty for sending it in, here it is!

this dork literally steals your scrunchies ALL.THE.DAMN.TIME.

and when you ask him about it he denies it

“idk what you’re talking about,” “what’s a scrunchie?”

BITCH LITERALLY HAS IT ON HIS WRIST WHILE SAYING THIS SHIT

likes to steal the pastel ones or the sparkly ones

he thinks they’re pretty 

says he takes them because he misses you

i beg to differ

he’s just trying out a new fashion something idk

im just joking he’s telling the truth jsksk

one time he grew out his hair a bit just so he could wrap it around his hair

literally walked up to you with a dead pan face talking about the weather with a sparkly pink scrunchie around the front part of his hair SDFKLJDKJ

honestly you have to admit it thought he looks hella good with your scrunchies around his wrist

since he started wearing your scrunchies around his wrist he’s started flaunting his wrist all over the place while talking

like on an italian level (i can make this joke because im italian ok fkljds)

it’s serious

he just want everyone to know that your guys are together <3

doesn’t give them back, you literally have to go on a treasure hunt around his room to find your scruchies

THEY ARE IN EVERY CORNER

catch iwaizumi teasing him about it and matsu and makki being jealous 

i-

is this allowed

this feels illegal

how is this legal for this tall ass mf with all these muscles look even hotter with a pretty pastel blue scrunchie around his beefy, veiny wrists???

IT’S NOT LEGAL

he was the one to ask to wear them

his argument was, “you wear all of my clothes, what do i get? i want your scrunchies so everyone knows im yours too.”

CUTE ASS MF GRRR

likes the red one and the black one with black sequins

sleeps with them on and i stand by that

only gives them back if you ask nicely, he will either tease the hell out of you until you’re flustered as hell and THEN give it back or ask you what the trajectory of like fucking saturn is and won’t give it back if you don’t know😐

wears them all the time??

like the only time he takes them off is RIGHT before a match, like he walks in with his uniform and everything with one of your scrunchies on his wrist and only takes it off to carefully put it away in his bag before the ref sounds the whistle to start

like he literally warms up with it on so everyone watching can see

marry him already goddammit

kenma is sick and tired of listening to him rant about how much he loves wearing your scrunchies 

bby !!

you guys were just hanging out together lazily when this started

and you had taken out your scrunchie and was just fiddling with it and his wrist just

happened to be there 

so you just put it on and when he looked over and noticed what it was he went 

!!!!!

fell in love 

“can i wear it for the rest of the day?”

you just nodded smiling because he just seemed so excited all of the sudden

he kept looking at it for the rest of the day

like it just fascinated him

and he got blushy sometimes because it reminded him of you

it was just a reminder of your shared loved and it got him all warm inside <3

started stealing your scrunchies from then on

every time he came over he would pick the ones that he liked and traded them for the ones that had already left the scent of you and your perfume

wears them everyday, does nOT MISS

like oikwara, no, he does not give them back, you have to steal them back and the cycle just goes on

his favorite is the pastel yellow one  

you were coming over to his house to hang out and to help him with setting practice in his backyard

and you were like “hol’ up keiji this scrunchie is a bit loose lemme put a hair tie instead.”

and you left your scrunchie at his house by accident on his bed

it was a cute little periwinkle one with soft sparkle of glitter

when you got home your were like

????

where tf is my scrunchie??

literal worms for brains, you forgot that you left it at his house 

the next day at school you just used the other one from the pack that was the exact same expect it was a light minty green

you walked into class and immediately you went

👀👀👀 “keiji is that my scrunchie?”

HE JUST PUT IN ON WHEN HE FOUND IT ON HIS BED AND STARTED STRUTING AROUND WITH IT SLDKJF

JUST WENT TO SCHOOL WITH IT ON TOO SLKDJF

bokuto asked about it and akaashi was just like, “it’s y/n’s, it’s really cute isn’t it? i hope y/n let’s me keep it.”

CUTIE???

okay it’s basically canon that akaashi fiddles with his fingers alot and i hc that it’s because he has a little bit of anxiety so i feel like he would just fiddle with your scrunchie instead and it would calm him down when you weren’t around because it reminded him of you and it grounded him 🥺🥺

CHILE IM GONNA CRY HE’S SO CUTE I WANT TO TAKE CARE OF HIM SO BAD 

please just let him keep it, let him take as many as he wants he loves your so much🥺

returns them, somehow very conveniently, always when you need them sfjlkd

[aiiwa]

PRETTY IN PINK — IWAIZUMI HAJIME.

✗ REQUEST: may i request a lil text fic of yn having the most juiciest 🍑 and taking pics in her lingerie to send to her female friends so they can help pic out which one is the prettiest but she accidently sends them to her best friend and crush iwa and how that would go?????

— iwaizumi hajime.

⤷ genre: college au - fluff (?) / crack (?)

⤷ warnings: suggestive / mature themes, cursing, and a photo thirst trap photo (?), also iwa talking about masturbating over your photo

⤷ word count: 2.8k

— a/n: for my big booty anon i would sell my soul for 🍑💖

this is set in the same universe as freshman year, so feel free to give it a read if you’d like!!

life after meeting your boys had changed your daily routine in the best way. not a minute went by that wasn’t filled with the familiar craziness you had grown on.

free time was spent humouring mattsun by shifting the couches in their apartment around and engaging in a wrestling match, originally stemming from a fight the two of you had over the last slice of cake a month ago; the current score was an even tie of 14-14 though you had plans to take the lead. when it came to makki, he was more than happy to indulge on your self-care days; he’d even take part in your skincare routine, let you paint his nails, and liked it when you made smoothies to sip on while the two of you waited for your clay masks to dry. every other week was dedicated to retouching his roots with pink hair dye.

other days, you were set up on your bed; under the soft covers, stash of snacks next to you, while your laptop rested on your lap. and at exactly three a.m. you would receive an incoming call from, oikawa. since it would be three p.m. in argentina, he’d take to sitting out on his balcony, basking in the sun and interrogating you on the relationship, or lack thereof, you had with his dear iwa-chan.

speaking of sweet, gorgeous iwa - in your biased and majorly crushing opinion, hanging out with him was your favourite. though you’d never be heard saying that around anyone. just last week he’d all but solidified your love for him even more, when the two of you were up late, binge watching a new sci-fi show that caught iwa’s attention, and he got up to make you some coffee when you started to feel sleepy.

“here we go, coffee with two sugars for the pretty lady.” the warmth you felt run over your body settled before you grabbed at the steaming cup. taking a sip you realised you’d never told iwa how many sugars you preferred, and after asking him, you watched his faint blush bloom under the harsh light of the t.v. screen. “heh, i don’t know...just noticed it, i guess.”

but as much as you loved the guys, there were just some things you couldn’t do with them. things that required a strictly girls-only day out.

“what do you mean we’re not allowed to come? i wanna go to the mall too!” mattsun whines, tugging at the sleeve of your cropped, button-up sweater, while you were bent over tying your laces.

“it’s a girl’s day out, emphasis on girl.” smacking his hand away, you straighten up; sending him the look your mother gives you when you’re being difficult. “so unless your little pee-pee grew into a powerful vagina, you’ll be staying home.”

“but makki’s practically a girl too!” the couch cushion that flew into his face was true to its aim, the swift whack shutting mattsun up.

“fuck off, little dick.” makki grumbled, lanky figure draped over the couch; sans aforementioned couch cushion that was covering his face before. mattsun tried to throw the pillow back at the pink-haired boy, but it was caught with ease. “we agreed to never bring that up again.”

“yeah well, y/n’s talking about some girl-time shit, like we didn’t take her to a strip club, filled with male strippers.” mattsun sasses back, crossing his arms with a smirk. “like makki didn’t get a lap dance from that guy-”

from the corner of your eye, the bulky figure entering the room catches your attention instantly. you could never get tired of eyeing up the way his shirt stretched around his fit body, how his sleeves cut a bit into his arms and knowing he could rip them up with a flex of his biceps. watching him walk up to you, the tightening of his navy blue gym shorts around his shaped thighs, had you mesmerised; dragging your gaze across the outline of his bulge, you swore it twitched just before he stopped near you.

“ready to go, y/n?” he offered a small smile, twirling his keys around his finger. at the sound of his voice, the other two boys halted their bickering over the strip club incident.

“oi iwa, no fair, are you going with y/n?!” mattsun interrogates, thick brows arched in question.

“i’m dropping her off.”

“oh.” makki chimes in. “out of everyone i thought you would be the one with the most complaints, iwa. just the other day when the two of you were together, i wanted to ask y/n for help with my project but you-”

“yeah, yeah that was the other day.” iwa cuts him off, and you couldn’t help but furrow your brows, wanting to know what makki was going to say. oh well, you’ll just get it out of him after. “c’mon y/n, you’ll be late meeting the girls.”

iwa was on his way to the front door when makki asked you what was so different about this trip to the mall that you didn’t want any of the boys to come along.

“i’m going to buy new lingerie, and i need their opinions.” you shrugged, grabbing your hand bag so you could follow iwa out.

busy with shoving your phone into your purse, and checking you had all of your essentials, you failed to notice the scheming look shared between mattsun and makki. or how iwa stood frozen by the door, hand tightly gripping the handle, until you bumped into his warm back.

“lingerie...hm, i wonder for who?”

at makki’s words you felt heat rise up in your face, as you rubbed at your nose.

“y/n~! you could’ve just asked me to come along! i would love to give my opinion!”

you’d never seen keys flying so fast through the air, finding their mark on mattsun’s forehead.

after spending twenty minutes pressing an ice pack to the growing bump on mattsun’s forehead, and listening to him trying to explain to an irritated iwa that he was just playing around; you’d finally left the apartment, and was nearing the bustling shopping district. iwa had been quiet, though not awkward, with only the mellow songs of his playlist, named after you, playing during the short drive. he flicked his indicator on, spotting the two girls waving at you from the sidewalk, and pulled over to the side.

“thanks for the ride, iwa.” you mumbled distractedly, admiring the veins in his tanned arm as he shifted the gear into park.

“anything for my pretty lady.” iwa lifts the corner of his mouth up into a sweet grin, olive green eyes flitting over you next to him. he doesn’t even realise he’d called you his pretty lady, and you press a hand to your heated cheek; ignoring your friends cooing and pointing at the two of you. “do you need some money? are you gonna be warm?” he leans closer to you, putting his arm behind your seat as he searches through his gym back in the back. the intoxicating smell of his cinnamon cologne invades your senses. “i’ll give you my jacket, just let me find it.”

you couldn’t help but chuckle at his antics, grabbing his bicep to stop him, giving it a firm, very self-indulgent squeeze. “iwa.” you called out to him. he turned to look at you, wide eyed and so fucking adorable. “you’re acting like my mom.” 

his handsome features relaxed as he released an airy laugh. “well i love your mom, so i’m fine with that.” he pulled his arm from behind you, jacket in his grip, though not in a way to make you let go of his arm.

“i still can’t believe she messages you to make sure i’m eating right.” you groaned, still squeezing his arm playfully. “and stop trying to give me money, it’s like you want to be my sugar daddy or something.”

iwa’s arm tenses under your touch as he processes your words. “alright, time for you to go.” you manage to catch the bright blush dusting his cheeks; your hand reaching out to pinch them yet all you feel is the material of his jacket as he shoves it into your arms. “get out, your friends are waiting for you.”

you pout at his dismissal; but with the way he was so flustered, scratching the back of his neck and hiding his pretty eyes, you decide to let him off easy 

“‘kay, fine~” you drawled in a sing-song voice.

making a show of collecting your things together, you dramatically tugged your seat belt loose; reaching for the door but halting in your actions when the weight of his large hand, dropped on top of your head. allowing him to angle your head to face him, he gifted you with a soft smile that had you ready to melt into the passenger seat. 

“be safe, alright?” your eyes blinked with each gentle pat on your head - once, twice, thrice - most likely ruffling your hair you’d spent a good amount of time on. “now go, text me and i’ll pick you up later.”

puffing your cheeks, you nodded as he squeezed your scalp affectionately. unlocking the door, you stepped outside into the cool air, wrapping iwa’s big jacket over your shoulders as goosebumps rose underneath the thin material of your sweater. bumping the door closed with your hip, you bent at the waist and stuck your head through the open window 

“bye, iwa.” your lips pressed together in a shy smile.

he mirrored your smile. “see you later, pretty lady.”

walking away, tugging the collar of his jacket closer, you could feel his eyes following after you. only half-listening as the girls teased you, hooking their arms through yours to walk through the entrance of the mall; you glanced back once more to see iwa stick a hand out and wave, before driving off once you disappeared from his view.

steam whirled up and around iwa, as a contented sigh escaped his parted lips. stood underneath the spray of warm water, he felt the tension begin to evaporate from his taut muscles 

iwa’s gym sessions, as of late, had been rather extreme. well, it had been this way for a couple of months now, ever since he had met you. he had to overwork his body, send it into overdrive and power through the fatigue - it was the only way to release some of his pent up frustration. the frustration that came with crushing on you, and not acting on it.

you were so fucking gorgeous to him, and you were so damn sweet. every part of his being was steadily entangling itself around your presence, and he had no idea how to stop it. not that he would even want to try. when you were nearby, his ears would begin to twitch at the sound of your voice, searching for you; and when you touched him, wrapping your delicate fingers around his arm to steady yourself, or poking your fingers at his back absentmindedly while teasing his roommates, he could feel his skin tingle all over. but it was when you would look up at him, sparkles in your beautiful eyes, that iwa knew he was a goner.

you had him wrapped around your pretty little finger, and he just wanted to make you his. have you in his arms…and bury himself so deep inside you-

“fuck.”

he shut off the shower with a bit more force than necessary. this was exactly the reason why he’d been visiting the gym more, working out for longer, because his mind was plagued with thoughts of you under him.

especially after seeing you in your cute outfit today. he feared that you’d catch his eyes lingering too long on the exposed skin of your tummy, or trying to memorise the curve of your lush thighs in those jeans. hell, he could barely say anything to you on the drive to the mall, tongue running dry with you so close to him.

with a huff, he carefully stepped out of the shower; wrapping his fully white towel around his hips, and moving into his room. kicking the door closed behind him, he made his way towards his side table just in time for his phone to go off.

grabbing the device and waiting a second for the facial recognition to process; he was surprised to see it was an instagram notification from you. expecting another food porn post, he was dead wrong; with absolutely nothing that could’ve prepared him for what greeted his eyes.

“holy,” he collapsed onto his bed, holding his phone to his face. “fuck.”

you...you-

“fuck!” he growled out.

you’d sent him a photo in your new lingerie, albeit it was most likely by accident, but there you were modelling your new all-pink set. the one he had 'chosen’.

with your arms raised above your head, brushing your hair over your shoulders, the stretched out pose accentuated the curve of your breasts, almost spilling out from the strapped confines of your bra. could he even call it that? it was all studded belt straps and buckles, that matched the thick choker-collar around your lithe neck, and it was not helping his current situation. grazing his eyes lower, a thin belt was clipped around your waist, before a sliver of skin lead downwards to the skinny, almost sheer, material of your panties. it was high waisted, dipping behind your wide hips and the teasing curve of your ass. and then your thighs, fuck how he wanted his face to be squeezed between them. thigh-high stockings dug into your plush thighs, squished out from the way you were sitting on your rug.

leaning back onto his bed, iwa was tempted to check if his heart was still beating, if he was even breathing at this point. but he did check, and he was alive; and the blood circulating his body was currently flowing straight to his groin.

the sight of you, so fucking pretty in pink, was burned into his mind forever.

under his palms the prickling sensation spread across his fingers, itching to relieve himself. one hand trailed across the panes of his abdomen, while the other grabbed at his phone; though it almost went flying out of his hand when it started vibrating and your contact photo flashed on his screen.

“shit.” he cursed, clearing his throat and trying to even out his breathing. he accepted the call after a moment. “hello?”

“iwa?!” at the sound of your voice he could feel his dick twitch, and he clenched his teeth together; annoyed at himself. he needed to get a grip. “oh my god, iwa, i am so sorry!”

‘no, i’m sorry that i want to fuck you so bad right now.’ is what he wants to say. “it’s...fine, y/n.” is what he manages to get out.

he hears you chuckle a bit awkwardly on the other end of the line. “shit, i’m so embarrassed right now.” you confess. “i meant to send that to the girls…”

“you don’t have to be embarrassed.” if anyone was to embarrassed it was him. he’d spent months pining after you, and now here he was lying on his bed aching to touch himself to you, towel fisted in his free hand. “you’re beautiful, y/n.” at least that managed to come out right.

“thank you, iwa...i only realised what happened when i was about to send another showing the back!” you laughing at your antics fell deaf on his ears, when the thought of your ass seized control of his mind.

how often had he admired the shape of you the past few months. daydreaming of the way you’d feel in his big hands, silky skin dug into by his long fingers, cheeks jutting out between them. he wanted to hold your ass in the palms of his hands, squeeze and tease you...his hips buck up, grinding against the cotton of the towel and a loud groan escapes his mouth.

“oh- iwa? are you okay?” you asked him, so innocently. he couldn’t take it anymore.

“i’m good...i just- something’s come up,” he hissed out, glancing down at the red tip of his cock peeping up at him. “i’ll call you later.”

“oh, of course! sorry again iwa, hehe, i’ll delete the photo. talk soon!”

his eyes shut at the sound of your giggle, free hand already rubbing himself. “bye.”

ending the call and moving the phone away from his face, he stared at the photo again, thumb hovering over the ‘save’ option, before pressing yes. he’d keep it locked away just for him, a treasured piece of you in his gallery. starting to stroke himself to your perfect body, he waited for the notification that you had deleted the photo from the conversation.

but it never came, though he did, and the photo remained buried under new food posts sent from you.

yet it wasn’t til a few weeks after that iwa began to think that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t as much of an accident as you made it out to be.

© 2020 AIIWA. please do not copy, modify or repost my work.

[crybabykiko]

Summer School

Kōshi Sugawara x Milf!Reader

Warnings: lmaooo bitch this shit hurted I can’t even get into it just know that I don’t wish to be perceived and will not be taking questions at this time. This is also not based on a dream I had and I am completely okay and sane

WC: 2.2k

A/N: Part of the lovely Miki Mouse Whorehouse collab- @undermattsun I love you I’m sorry my appendix got in the way of having this in on time. If you haven’t read the rest of the best mf porn trope collab in the universe, check out the mlist here for more hot milfs in your area that can read to you. 💕 and also ty kwis @honey-makki for the banner because y’all almost didn’t get one... she’s the real hero of the story.

The silence in the room was deafening as you sat in front of his desk. The air was thick with tension, and your palms, though sweaty, felt ice cold. He was always jovial, except for in moments like these, moments where he commanded attention. Moments in which he was serious, an ever looming presence over all his students- over the entire school.

“I assume you know why we’re meeting, right?” he said, taking a seat at his own desk, piled high with papers and discarded paper coffee cups- you could also just barely make out... an ashtray? Maybe that was only for after hours- hours like these in which he probably stayed on the school grounds half the night grading term papers and exams- as he’s not one to bring work home with him. You remembered him mentioning that from the orientation. You remembered the gentle, kind, Sugawara-Sensei with a warm smile and soothing voice; but the man in front of you was sinister.

“Final grades?” You swallowed a lump of fear and anxiety.

“They’re not good,” he scoffed, rifling through papers on his desk to pull out one riddled with red marks.

“Something like this definitely means summer school....”

He wasn’t letting up at his icy demeanor.

“That’s- it’s not an option,” you sputtered.

“I agree,” he said. “I’ve heard about your summer plans, I wouldn’t hate for you to miss out, they really seem like fun…”

Your blood was boiling over at the condescension, but it felt ice cold as it ran through your veins thinking of what you stood to lose if you protested him.

“I’ll tell you what,” Sugawara began, rising from his desk chair and crossing over to the classroom blackboard. He started erasing the day’s earlier lessons, leaving murky white streaks across the board.

“I’ll give you a chance to raise the grade, extra credit of sorts- how does that sound?”

By now he had picked up a slender wooden pointer with a white plastic tip. You had already put forth so much effort into Summer vacation, there was no way summer school was written into the occasion. But you felt yourself suffocated by the offer, a nervous twisting starting to build up in your gut as he stared at you, twisting the pointer in his chalk dust coated hands. You begrudgingly nodded.

“Great- it’s an offer you won’t be able to refuse, I know you…”

You knew exactly what he meant.

He bought the pointer to your chin, gently lifting before tracing it down your neck and décolletage, emphasizing the curvature of your breasts as he rounded the chair to be behind you.

“Let’s start with getting this off, yeah?” His hands massaged at your shoulders, gently pulling the woolen cardigan off your body, gently exposing you to the cool air of his classroom. You shuddered in response to the drastic change of temperature. Your exposed shoulders revealed the straps to your camisole and bra, Suga snapped the straps of both against your skin, a wince forming on your face from the soft slapping pain.

“Such pretty skin,” he remarked lowering his head to your neck, lips barely grazing the surface before peppered light kisses along it.

“You smell so nice too- all of this just to meet me, huh?”

You fixed your mouth to say no, but couldn’t get anything out against his advances. instead a small moan rose through the air as his kisses turned to kitten licks and a soft sucking right beneath your ear.

Sugawara’s hands were warm and soft as they lost themselves underneath the fabric of your shirt and bra, leaving a rash of goosebumps in his wake that rose almost as quickly as the heat to your face and neck. He slowly took your nipples between his fingertips, twisting gently as you threw your head into his chest.

“That’s it, it feels good, doesn’t it?” You hummed in response.

You felt him press his body into your back, the presence of his half hardened cock becoming painfully apparent as it slid against you. Suga crossed back in front of you, hands positioned at the buckle of the belt that held his pants at his waist. He didn’t bother to undo the clasps of his suspenders, slipping them down his shoulders instead. Still exposed, your chest rose and fell at the sight of him. Your eyes were locked at his waist, his own eyes growing familiar with your gaze as he slid the khakis down his waist, stopping just above the knee and leaving his hard-on fully visible.

You can’t recall when or how the straps of your shirt and bra fell from your body, but your top half was completely exposed to him as he pushed the head of his cock between your breasts, the soft pink head sporting a prominent freckle akin to the beauty mark under his eye. His cock moved against your skin, gaining soft friction as you held your tits together around it. You couldn’t resist sticking out your tongue to lap tiny kitten licks as he thrust- a soft yet lewd chortle from your own lips offered a little more lubrication, the slick sounds of his dick against your skin now rising in the sticky air. The spit glistened against the supple skin of your breasts as your hands held them together, fingertips hovering just above your pert nipples as you continued to envelop his dick with them. You started to help him, moving the mounds of flesh against him in a matching rhythm.

“Fuck yeah, just like that,” Sugawara hissed, speeding himself up. You could see the emergence of precum at the tip, tongue involuntary darting out to lick the salty fluid. His cock grew wetter, veins more prominent with each thrust against you. Your legs were presaging together in your seat, the thin panties you were wearing had started to become uncomfortably wet at this point, as you were so turned on at how turned on he was. In the back of your mind though, the heat on your skin translated to embarrassment, sickened by yourself for stooping to this level, disgusted by your need for perfection- how could you ever live with this?

No time to think about that now, though, not when he was looking down over you like this, cheeks pale pink, and strands of silver still king to his perspiring forehead. The feeling of his dick twitching against your tits weighed heavier than your pride at the moment, and you’d rather swallow several of his loads than grin and bear the stares of all those other bullshit PTA moms looking down on you- looking down on your kid. It was time to work for your bribe- just like the one you’d worked with Sugawara at the beginning of the year to get your son into his class.

Without warning, your son’s teacher thrust farther forward, pushing his dick past your lips- the signifier he was done using your tits to get off, and needed something more. You let go, moving your hand to the base of him, twisting your wrist upward as you opened your mouth wider and granted him full access.

“Very good- open up-ngh-, pretty thing,” He cooed through gritted teeth. “Want you to take this cock down your throat.”

His hands grasped the nape of your neck, pushing your head down further on his length. You gagged the first two or three passes- after all, it had been awhile since you had been adjusted to his size, or any man in general- being a single-mother does that to a person sometimes. But it took a few softer thrusts for your throat to ease up, and he was happy to oblige. He found you cute like this, so pliant with a mouth stuffed full of him. ‘Such a good mom,’ he thought, looking down to marvel at your face, nose buried in his pubes.

There was nothing more appealing to him than the idea of replacing your tight, wet throat with your even tighter pussy- than feeling the tip of his cock right at your cervix- the sensation of him filling you to the brim with his cum, and eventually seeing you swollen and round with his own child after a few months of making sure it stuck. Amazing thoughts- at least to him. But for now, he could wait; his mind telling him he’ll have all summer to wear you down since he has every intention of keeping you at his beck and call for the break, the looming thought of how much you owe him hanging over your head like the most perfect apple on a branch just out of reach.

Looking up at him from your seat like this fit that same illusion for you too. You shouldn’t feel this overpowering desire over the stiffness of your jaw and the burning of your throat- you shouldn’t enjoy the weight of his dick on your tongue, much less crave the feeling of him splitting you open. Yes these are all things you shouldn’t feel- but if it’s so wrong, why does it feel so right?

You popped your lips off of him for a second, gasping for air as strings of your saliva separated you from him. Your hand twisted at the base of his cock, pumping him with a tight grip. You could feel Sugawara shuddering under your touch, eyes meeting his to watch him stifle a moan by pulling his bottom lip through his teeth. He bought a soft hand to your cheek, stroking it lightly with the pad of his thumb before taking both hands to press your head back onto him- pushing as far down as he could fit- a harsh gag filling the room as his cock lodged itself in your throat.

His face was stained scarlet, nose scrunching and eyes creasing as he felt himself starting to slip, succumbing to his impending orgasm.

“Such a good-hhngh- such a good fucking mommy,” he said thrift gritted teeth, sending several hot ropes of cum sliding down your raw, and most likely bruised throat. You could barely hear the rest of his obscenities as he hit his high- your blood was already in your ears the moment you heard him say the word “mommy.” You couldn’t help but swallow every last drop, thinking of how much better it would’ve been if he did cum in your now drenched pussy. It was an invitation waiting for him, but your womb simply had to wait- a dull ache forming where you felt he should be.

You had several seconds to come back into reality, the fluorescence of classroom lights bringing you back to your surroundings of tinfoil planet dioramas and baking soda volcanoes among the rows of desks in front of you. You tried taking stock of how you got here in the first place, but your brain was liquefied in lust. Sugawara took a few moments to fix himself up, slicking his sweaty hair back as he readjusted his suspenders and rifled through the pockets of his pants. Pulling out a silver engraved cigarette case, pulling two out and placing one between his teeth. Handing you one, he pulled out his matching lighter, flicking it open to spark you up first. Almost as if nothing happened, he was the same, jovial, sweet Sensei that your 4th-grade son adored- the same kind, gentleman you entrusted your child to at orientation.

“Don’t tell the PTA,” he joked, a soft smile spreading across his still pink cheeks as he finished his drag, sitting back down in his chair.

“I won’t if you won’t,” you responded, rather breathlessly for having not done much work yourself.

You sat in silence for a beat or two, marveling at how he was able to turn himself on and off like this, at how he was able to continue on in the thick, sex stained air while filling out a gradebook.

“The final grade will remark as a pass,” he commented.

“I can’t give honor’s marks or it’ll look suspicious, so I’ll put in a couple extra credit points and just write it off as a book report or something.”

“Th-thank you, Sensei,” you uttered weakly, remembering just who Sugawara was- after all, he is your son’s teacher. As you stood, you picked up your purse and smoothed your skirt to leave. You slowly pulled the cardigan back over your sleeves, shuddering yet again at soft contact against your sensitive nerve endings, goosebumps still painting your body.

“You can call me Kōshi if you’d like- I’m not your teacher after all.”

“Thank you… Kōshi,” you corrected yourself.

He continued to work, not taking his eyes off the pile of papers in front of him, one by one, marking them up and down with red pen.

The click of your high heels sliced through the palpable silence as you began to leave the classroom. The voice inside of you screamed to hold your head high, not to look back, not to address him, not to crave him but that same voice fell down inside you, mind quelling its fear with a ‘you just have to tell him goodnight, it’s the polite thing to do.’

“Goodnight, Kōshi,” you called, twisting the knob of the door, pushing it halfway open before he stopped you.

“Oh, Y/N- please don’t forget to tell S/N to enjoy his summer vacation… you enjoy yours too.”

[samwrights]

Oooh no filter Friday?? 🥴 🤪 Can I get some bratty s/o headcannons? 👉🏻👈🏻🥺 I've seen you mention Iwa and Tsukki 👀 but I'm open to whoever inspires you 💜

IWAIZUMI LOVES (fake) BRATS AND NOBODY CAN CHANGE MY MIND ON THIS.

But uh, let’s get my underrated bois in this bc I feel like they all love brats.

Hanamaki—

Sure, he hardly ever gives a fuck about anything

But having a bratty s/o gets under his skin

Because he knows that you’re not a genuine brat; he knows you’re doing it because it gets him riled up for the most bomb sex.

It’s almost like a little game that the two of you play of the most filthy version of cat and mouse.

Oddly enough, the most common occurrence of this instance is when the two of you are trying to decide dinner.

Makki will literally offer up so many different ideas but you just keep whining about how you don’t want whatever he suggested.

“I’d say you can have my dick for dinner, but I think I’d rather see you starve.”

Your bratty behavior eggs on his own desire to deny you and make you became depraved for him.

His appetite focuses solely on you and the desire to have you beg for his cock for the rest of the night.

But to get there, he’s got to deny you any chance of getting off.

Which includes tying up your hands so you can’t touch yourself, blindfolding you so you can’t anticipate his next move—his torture often starts with sensory deprivation.

Delicate, ginger motions as his lanky fingers dance along your skin, skirting along the outside of your bare slit send you into overdrive.

“Hiro...touch me...please?”

“Should have been a good girl, [name].”

Ukai—

He will never admit to loving your bratty behavior.

Ever. To anyone.

But there’s a reason, a method to his madness if you will, that he makes it a point to absolutely spoil you.

Any time you want to go out and do something, even if it’s not his cup of tea, the answer is yes.

I can totally see him supporting a nasty spending habit as well.

And everyone almost feels bad for him because it seems like you’re sucking him dry.

I mean you are, but we’re getting there.

He keeps saying yes and yes to you until he’s frustrated with something entirely unrelated to you that causes him to snap.

And shit, you love that this is the dynamic that the two of you have because when Keishin snaps, you know he gonna snap that dick inside you real good.

He never has a tell, so he’s a bit more tricky to handle when the mood comes up.

The only give away is that he tells you “no” in the most concrete tone.

“C’mon, Keishin, let’s go—“

“I said no, [name].”

Huhoh, game on.

“Fine, I guess I’ll just go with—“

“You, are going nowhere you little fucking brat. Now strip.”

[star-puff]

for meg (or sasha? or sasha on meg's behalf?) i'm giving you full permission to rant about makki, please enlighten me. i challenge you to turn me into a full-time makki fan :)

ah yes, my favorite unemployed married man.

so i am not articulate At All and it will be a miracle if you can make it through this post unscathed by my brain rot induced word vomit, but honestly the best way i can sum it all up in one sentence is this: makki is the type of guy that would see you crying, freeze, tease you a lil, then take you to buy midnight ice cream (the fancy kind, like haagen daz) while you spill all your emotions to him.

we see in the Few scenes with him in it that he’s a guy that likes to be social. he’s open to talking to people and he jokes with them in lighthearted banter; he likes being friends with people! he’s approachable, he’s easy to talk to, and for me who’s an irl introvert, i tend to drift towards people who give off the energy that i can feel comfortable drifting towards :)

i honestly don’t think there’s ever a Boring conversation with him. he’s the type to Joke and Joke and Joke, not in that saccharine sweet way that oikawa does, but like. genuinely. he’s just a fun guy to be around. and i honestly think he just. cares about everyone. once he talks to you, even if you’re not Tightknit like his close friendship with the Seijoh 4, you’re still A Friend. he’s just :(( such an approachable person :((( GOD HE WOULD BE SO EASY TO CRUSH ON IRL PLS . AND BC HE’S GENUINELY INTERESTED IN WHAT YOU’RE SAYING HE ENGAGES IN THE CONVO AND MAKES YOU FEEL!! SO IMPORTANT!!! UGH

i KNOW for a fact he isn’t a dry texter. i just know it. i would send him 😫🤨🔊🙈 emojis and he would send 😪🥴🤠🗣😼 emojis RIGHT back. prbly clowns on oikawa for using 😂😂😂. AND KEYSMASHES!!! even if he doesn’t keysmash he wouldn’t be confused by my Range of keysmashes and learns to differentiate the energy of “SDLFKJSDKF” vs “JKSJDJDSKFJ” vs “HASHDFLSDKF” vs “MSDFNSDLFK” and so on.

also he has a sweet tooth Which Means i can win him over with cafe dates and bake him things to show him my love <3 BAKING DATES!! i don’t think he would enjoy my favorite activity of museum hopping very much On Its Own but i think he can make anything a fun time with his commentary and i’d like to think that he would have a good time just being with me :’) and with my fleeting interests in...various hobbies... he would listen and then one day he’d just bust out random trivia with The Boys and they’re like 😀 how do you know that?? and he’s just 😎👍

(ALSO IN A LOT OF MAKKI FICS I’VE READ THERE’S LIKE THIS THING OF UNDERLYING INSECURITY BC OUT OF ALL THE PEOPLE WHY DID YOU PICK HIM?? LIKE THERE’S ACE IWAIZUMI AND ANNOYINGLY HANDSOME OIKAWA AND TALL MF MATSUKAWA SO LIKE. WHY’D YOU CHOOSE HIM?? AND IT’S ALWAYS THIS THING OF HIM BEING USED TO BEING SEEN AS JUST(TM) A FRIEND AND NOTHING MORE AND OOOOOO HOT DIGGITY DOG I AM IN PAIN)

anyways he’d just be. a real fun person to be around. and i develop feelings Very Easily so. Yeah. there’s that. i don’t really know if this would convince you or not LMAOOO but this was just an excuse for me to brain rot while i avoid working on his fic bc i’m working on a tendou fic instead lsdkfjsdlfkd ty for this opportunity. lmk if this changes your mind 👍 (but even if you don’t that’s fine slkjdfsdl i’ll love him enough for the both of us 🔊🔊)

[ellewords]

i hope you don’t mind me sending another link to you! (oh yeah just to make sure since i’m constantly worrying about whether tumblr eats the asks i send—did you receive one from me linking a tumblr post that was kinda long? you don’t have to answer it right away ofc but i just wanted to make sure it made its way to its intended recipient :})

anyways . i saw this REALLY CUTE TWEET and i was thinking. which boys would sit with their s/o like that? i can see ushijima and sakusa really clearly as pic A, for instance—🌸💫

yeah, i got it !! i just tend to answer asks that i know i'll have a longer answer to when i have time freed up from acads hehe

anyways aaaa that is really cute pls okay okay how i think hq characters would sit with their s/o <33

a : daichi, asahi, kageyama, tsukishima, yamaguchi, kiyoko, kuroo, kenma, yaku, iwaizumi, makki, akaashi, ushijima, shirabu, semi, daishou, kita, osamu, sakusa

b : suga, noya, tanaka, hinata, yachi, lev, oikawa, mattsun, aone, bokuto, tendou, goshiki, reon, terushima, aran, atsumu, suna

eek ty for this 🌸💫anon !! the brainrot is happy <33 how are you btw :))

[sunshinetoshi]

makki LOVES getting funnel cake with extra strawberries. taking it onto the ferris wheel with you, he feeds you the sweet yummy treat as you marvel at the view.

strawberries and a strawbby boy?? my heart 🥺🥺💓💓 I LOVE THIS SO MUCH OH MY. and when he kisses you it definitely tastes like strawberries 🤭🤭

OOO ty for sending this bb <33

send some hq amusement park hcs

[ahogedetective]

" fine! you can come over; but bring every blanket, pillow and fluffy item you own. "

{ Blanket Fort Prompts- x !! }

"Y-Yay!! Thank you! I'm really happy you don't mind. I promise it'll be fun. And yes, got it: I'll bring all that!" As he continues talking to Emp on the phone, Shuichi heads to his closet to pull out a big duffel bag, so that he could begin stuffing pillows and blankets in it. He even-shy as he was to do so-plopped a couple of plushies inside as well.

And then in his bag, he packed a change of clothes for tomorrow morning, and pondered if he should also pack his pajamas, or just change into them now and just head to her house already in them. After a moment of thinking about it, he thought it’d be easier to just do the latter, to already get it out of the way. "Okay, I'm packing as much of those things as I can. Is there anything else you'd like for me to bring? I’ll bring some snacks as well if you’d like!”

[risjime]

Here for the ask game!!! First off I'm def matching you with our boy bokuto I can picture you two matching each other's energy!

For my hc:

Food, food, and more food! I just love making food for people! It's a classic way to show love and affection and super fun! I also like to practice kitchen witchcraft so I put a bit of magic into the meal!

I will send so many nonsensical memes and reaction images ghghhghhhhjg

At home pamper/spa days! Mani pedis, facials, massages, the works I live for that shit, have some scented massage candles and playlists and everything!

And requesting guys from haikyuu please!

love me some bo, ty love <33

i’m thinking either makki or tendou for you !!

[matsinko]

“I’m so in love with her/him, I don’t know what do do.” (for the sentence starter) 💖

hey anon! and ty for sending me a prompt. i already started this as matsuhana bc i was not sure if you’re gonna see my message, but i did include a small iwaoi hint for you. i’ll make sure to write an iwaoi drabble under the same prompt too though to make up for it ^^

The changing room is oddly quiet despite the win. Hanamaki can hear the showers running mutely in the distance with the last of his teammates to take a shower. The air is damp and thick with the smell of soap and deodorant, and he can vaguely hear Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s quiet conversation from the corner benches.

Maybe it’s because they were expected to win and they won–fast and quick–like ripping off a bandaid. Perhaps the weight of their last months together lingers like a thick shadow on a bright day.

Hanamaki doesn’t know how long he sits there, lost in thought. The warmth of another body settling down next to him is what forces him back to the present. 

Matsukawa lets his knee press against Hanamaki’s, warm and solid; present. “We won,” he says, and when Hanamaki looks up at him, he offers a tentative smile and his heart, the traitor, picks up at that.

Less than 3 months left with him too, huh. “We won,” he mirrors and puts on a happy mask as he replies - a big, fake, happy grin. 

And Matsukawa sees right through it. “We’ll win the next too.”

“I know.” Hanamaki is fast to answer, afraid to let Matsukawa continue speaking.

Afraid.

When did he become such a coward that he’s afraid of words, of speaking, of letting anything come close to his carefully constructed walls? It’s like his feelings are expanding, frothing like champagne in a shaken up bottle under a half dislodged cork.

And Matsukawa keeps pulling at the damned cork. 

He leans into Hanamaki’s personal space, smelling of soap and something so very Matsukawa that makes Hanamaki’s pulse pick up again until it’s loud and thrumming in his ears. His palm is warm when he places it on Hanamaki’s thigh, and he flinches when Matsukawa’s thumb moves, presses into his skin in slow circular motion.

Matsukawa isn’t looking at him, his eyes oddly fixated on where his palm on Hanamaki’s thigh, dark and unreadable. They hold intensity that he rarely sees on him and Hanamaki swallows around his dry throat. He wants to look away, he wants to get up and walk away and never come back. He thought he’d be able to hold it all in until graduation but Matsukawa is right there, right in the middle of his confusing life while he’s trying to make sense of it all; Matsukawa with his ink-black hair that curls at the nape of his neck after a shower, with his flushed skin and deep brown eyes.

“Matsukawa,” he works around the words with effort, and his voice comes low and raspy, “what are you doing?”

Matsukawa’s thumb stops moving, and he seems to freeze for a second. “I–” He doesn’t finish, just shrugs. “You seemed like you needed–ah–I don’t really know.” He finally looks at Hanamaki, and his stomach flops when their eyes meet.

“Eloquent,” he mocks, desperately trying to turn this into a joke. It’s too much, and he hates it – he hates feeling his emotions heavy like stones in his gut.

Matsukawa seems to study him for a while then withdraws his hand and gets up all at once. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” His voice is too high, and it cracks at the yeah and Hanamaki just stares for a second.

Then nods, slowly, glad at how the heaviness in his chest dissipates with some distance between them.

He packs his duffel bag hastily, shoving his thoughts down. When he heads for the door, he sees Oikawa leaning across the doorframe. He’s looking at Hanamaki with knowing eyes, his lips pressed into a thin line. He’s worried.

“How long…” Hanamaki’s voice trails off.

“Enough,” is Oikawa’s reply. “You know I need to stay back to lock up.”

“Iwaizumi?”

“He’s waiting outside.”

Hanamaki knows this is his cue, he knows Oikawa is giving him the option to talk if he wants to. He isn’t asking questions, he isn’t pushing him; he’s offering both space and a friend, whatever Hanamaki needs. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Hanamaki says, and it comes as a whisper. I’m so in love with him, is what he doesn’t voice but knows Oikawa knows. Oikawa always knows; he isn’t certain how, he just does. The sky is blue, their school is painted muted blue, and Oikawa reads his teammates like they’re open books. 

Oikawa’s face softens, the tension melts into a small smile. He doesn’t hesitate before he speaks, “You need to tell him.”

“No,” is Hanamaki’s instant answer.

Oikawa frowns a little, his sepia-brown eyes fixed on Hanamaki, always far too perceptive for Hanamaki’s feigned frivolous exterior. “He’s a good guy.”

“He is.”

“And he cares about you more than anyone else. You’d be surprised what an honest conversation can do,” Oikawa says with ease as if he has figured the meaning of life itself.

“Maybe you’d wanna take your own advice first,” Hanamaki replies before he can stop himself. Being defensive has always come easy.

Oikawa studies him for a while. “Ah, Makki-chan!” His face falls into an easy smile, all white teeth and fake glee. “Dishonesty is not a competition,” he says in his usual sugary-sweet voice that he uses with reporters and girls; his own kind of walls. 

Hanamaki knows he’s hit a raw spot and maybe that’s exactly why he said it. 

“Off you go now, little plant,” Oikawa sing songs.

Hanamaki snorts. “Ass,” he mutters without bite as he passes Oikawa.

He knows Oikawa isn’t really mad. He’s oddly patient with Hanamaki and Hanamaki appreciates their easy friendship more than he’d let on.

“I’m your captain, Makki-chan!” Oikawa yells after him, and Hanamaki smiles despite himself.

Maybe he’ll apologise.

Maybe he’ll call him and finally talk about it.

Maybe he’ll even talk to Matsukawa.

And maybe those are too many maybes for one day.

[star-puff]

Meg!!! Whatever you're going through, I'm sure you can get through it!! You're very strong and charismatic and funny and talented and amazing!! Sending you good vibes and all my love!! (Makki told me to tell you that he's cheering on you too!!)

hi owly dear 🥺 ty for your encouragements (and makki's) it means a lot ;;

[ellewords]

for ask game

aight im gonna give you minor characters hehehe — hanamaki takahiro, komori motoya and yamamoto taketora

oooh some underrated bbs hehe aight

husband : komori

one night stand : makki

best friend : yamamoto

ty for sending this in hehe

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

send me three names and I'll tell you who I'd marry, have a one night stand w/, be my best friend