#hanamaki takahiro x reader

[teamatsumu]

all eyes on you. (seijoh 4 x reader)

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

word count: 1k

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi @sleepyxxhead

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[heich0e]

18+ minors and ageless blogs do not interact!

"oh, good"—takahiro's familiar head of strawberry blonde hair pops up over the back of the sofa as you step through the door, toeing off your work shoes in the narrow entryway of your shared apartment—"you're home!"

he pushes the gaming headset he's wearing off his ears, leaving it and his controller abandoned on the couch as he pulls himself up over the back of it. his long legs carry him quickly across the width of your modest home, and before you know it he's upon you—taking your bag from your hands and helping you free your arms from your coat.

you laugh a little at his eagerness as he impatiently tugs your outerwear off. "yeah, i'm home."

"thank god," he replies solemnly, setting the bag you take to work with you off to the side. he takes your hands in his and uses his hold on them to tug you forward towards him. he peers down at you, 186cm of man with the most deceptively soft flutter of his lashes. "sit on my face?"

"takahiro!"

your protest is half chastising and half a giggle, and when you try to pull your hand from his to swat at his chest he just twines your fingers together and holds you tighter. he pouts a little at you in the wake of what he interprets as refusal.

"baby, i've been waiting for you to get home for hours," he tells you pointedly, pulling you a bit closer so your bodies are flush against each other. his hands slip nimbly to your hips, simultaneously pawing at you and pressing you as close to his body as humanly possible. you don't miss the press of something firm in his sweatpants as he holds you against him—nor do you doubt the veracity of his statement in the wake of the sensation.

"at least let me shower," you barter with him, pressing weakly against his chest in a halfhearted attempt to escape his insistent touches.

he shakes his head. "can't wait."

"hiro," you laugh, squeezing your eyes shut, "i just walked in the door."

"i know," he replies, dipping down and dotting a kiss to your temple. "you must've had a long day."

you hum in agreement, luxuriating for a moment in the soft press of his lips as they slip down to your cheek.

"so let me help you relax," he murmurs into your skin, his hands at your waist slipping further down to paw at the back of your skirt. he takes a little step back towards the couch, drawing you along with him like a dance. in no time at all he reaches the arm of the sofa, and he topples back, splayed against the couch cushions where you're sure he spent most of his day. he peers up at you, smiling wolfishly. "i've got the perfect seat waiting for you."

you sigh, but the sound is as fond as it is exasperated.

"let me at least take my tights off," you mutter. "you've ripped enough that i'm down to my last two good pairs."

he pushes himself up onto his elbows, his eyes alight with excitement. "be my guest."

you shoot him a wry look, shimmying your skirt up over your hips so you can slip your thumbs into the waistband of your nylons. makki's attention is rapt as you tug the tight, clinging material down your thighs—watching every inch of their painfully slow descent. once you've kicked them off in a heap on the living room floor, your hands move towards the zipper of your skirt.

"no, no,"—he stop you before you can begin to remove the garment—"leave that on."

you look at him with a brow drawn up in question. "why?"

he gnaws on his lip, his eyes flickering back down to the glimpse of soft, lace-trimmed cotton he can see peeking out from under the bunched up hem of your skirt.

"you look so hot in business clothes," he tells you, groaning brokenly as he squeezes his eyes shut in pleasure. "like a sexy teacher."

"you're a pervert," you remark, but you don't protest as he stretches forward and tugs you towards the sofa by the hem of your skirt.

"oh, definitely," he agrees cheerfully.

you shuffle forward on the sofa until you're straddling his face, and his hands find yours again—interlocking your fingers as you hover over him on your knees.

"hi," he remarks, a boyishly charming grin on his face as he peers up at you from between your parted thighs.

"hi," you quietly return the greeting with a light laugh, and he squeezes your fingers with his own. your legs are starting to burn from holding yourself up over him, but because of the way he's holding your hands you can't press them down into the sofa to support you.

your only option is to sit, or to suffer.

takahiro lets his head loll to the side, pressing a kiss to the soft skin of your inner thigh. he nips at you playfully afterwards, and when you hiss slightly in surprise, his tongue darts out and slides against the sting to soothe it.

"you didn't even ask me how my day was before you manhandled me over here, you know," you remark, but there's not nearly enough complaint in your tone for it to be sincere.

hiro hums, a placating, easy sound, and presses another kiss to your thigh. "sorry, baby. how was your day?"

"it was good," you say, your hips dipping ever so minutely closer to his waiting mouth. "how was yours?"

"it was okay,—" hiro answers, but his words are mostly breath.

you watch your boyfriend swallow thickly, like there's suddenly saliva pooling in his mouth. his eyes are fixed to the little damp spot you feel inking across the cotton of your panties, but they flicker back up to yours—hungrier now than they were a moment prior—before he speaks again.

"—but it's about to get way better."

[strwbrryeyes]

𖦹°｡⋆ hanamaki as a best friend

⟡ cw: fluff, friends to lovers, matsukawa and makki fake dating, lmk if i missed anything

⟡ a/n: back from the dead ig i hate school. also im only doing the main four 3rd years for now bc yeah. i'll do any characters that i missed later on.

⟡ best friend series: matsukawa, iwaizumi, oikawa, || masterlist

best friend hanamaki who you met in your first year of high school when he was sat in your seat when his seat was actually the one next to your desk.

best friend hanamaki who you got closer to when he was constantly asking for your notes. you didn't really mind though because he would get you sweets in return.

best friend hanamaki who introduced you to the rest of the aoba four one day after you kept asking him who his "boyfriend" was. apparently it was all four of them.

best friend hanamaki who got bonked on the head by you, oikawa, and iwaizumi. matsukawa actually acted all lovey dovey with him. jokingly of course.

best friend hanamaki who in your second year said that he was finally going to take his own notes. he did so for a week before he returned to asking you for them.

best friend hanamaki who would skip practice sometimes to go grab ice cream with you. this earned him a lecture from the coaches and even oikawa who just acted dramatic and told him that he was grounded.

best friend hanamaki who you and matsukawa would poke fun of after he got his haircut. during a sleepover one time matsukawa drew a pp on his forehead.

best friend hanamaki who chased you both down when he woke up the next morning.

best friend hanamaki who invited you to his volleyball games so he can brag to everyone else that he had someone watching him.

best friend hanamaki who invited you out to dinner after games they lost because oikawa always ended up paying for everyone's meals (against his will).

best friend hanamaki who didn't want to go to college so just moved in to an apartment with you and matsukawa since you both were going to the same school.

best friend hanamaki who got bored of being home alone during the weekdays so he got a job. multiple actually. mans hated working.

best friend hanamaki who would ocassionally take naps in your and mattsun's rooms while you were at classes.

best friend hanamaki who realized his feelings for you when he realized how much he adored the scent of your room and of you in general whenever he was near you. not in a creepy way though, he just found it comforting.

best friend hanamaki who told mattsun about his feelings one weekend while you were away visiting your family.

best friend hanamaki who internally died when the first thing mattsun said to you when you came back was "makki's in love with you"

best friend hanamaki who took a while to process what just happened before finally telling you that it wasn't a joke after you thought it was for aminute.

best friend hanamaki who dramatically hugged mattsun instead of you when you said you had feelings for him too. this was because he probably wouldn't have told you himself.

best friend hanamaki who properly asks to be your boyfriend after mattsun goes for a walk to give you guys some space.

best friend hanamaki who is now boyfriend hanamaki who staged a 'breakup' with matsukawa when he came back because his heart now belonged to another.

[haezen]

how he apologizes 

suna, makki

haikyuu!!  genre: hurt/comfort

a/n: they’re so silly and i’m in love with them (heheehehahaha) if you guys like this, show it some love.  (i love seeing you guys reblog with # ! i read them and they make my day!)  maybe i’ll do sakusa and atsumu next :>

dedicated to my lovely best friend @nami66m !

HOW SAKUSA APOLOGIZES

masterlist

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

SUNA

Rintarou is unbearably stubborn. 

He says things that he doesn’t mean and his words are venomous. When the two of you got into a fight over something that didn’t even really matter, you are shocked when he spits your biggest insecurity back in your face. He will never forget the pained expression that washed over your features and almost instantly, he regretted ever saying it in the first place. 

You held your head up high, trying to ignore the lump forming in your throat and the tears threatening to spill, before heading out of your shared home. He could tell that you were heartbroken to hear something you told him in confidence thrown back in your face. He knew that he fucked up, but yet he stood there unmoving like a statue, too afraid to move a muscle or utter a word. As he watched you storm out, he told himself that he never wants to see you leave out that door, running away from him again.

He stood in that same spot for a while, frozen. Why did he say those things? What were you even fighting about in the first place? How can he fix this?

He doesn’t know what to do. Before, all he did was run from his problems and avoid people he wronged like the plague. He’d ignored their texts and calls. He’d act like he wasn’t home when they’d knock on his door, begging for an explanation on why he went ghost. He’d even act like he didn’t know them when seeing them in public. 

Rintarou doesn’t know how to admit he’s wrong because he believes that if he admits it, then you’ll find somebody better. You deserve somebody who wouldn’t hurt you in the first place: someone who acknowledges their faults and overcomes them with humility. And he has never done that — he doesn’t know how to. 

So as he sits on the couch with his head in his hands and unbecoming tears streaming down his face, he decides that he needs to drive to the only person he can trust to ask for advice: Osamu.

You finally come home at midnight. Your cheeks and nose are red and he instantly realizes you’ve been walking out in the cold. 

But when you open the door, you’re greeted by the warmth of the fireplace, candles lit everywhere you look, and Rintarou standing right in the kitchen like he’d been waiting there for hours. He offers you an uneasy smile, one that doesn’t reach his eyes. He smiles like he’s unsure of what to say or what your reaction will be. 

Deep down, he wants to run and hide like he usually would. He’s afraid that you will leave him first because you’ve seen how ugly he can be.

He gestures to the kitchen island, and you see he’s made you your favorite food. It’s not perfect and the display looks awful, but the hopeful look in his eyes is begging for your acceptance and validation. You know he’s never done anything like this before. 

The gesture makes you want to cry all over again, but you’re hesitant to forgive him so easily. When he’s met with silence, he continues.

“I made it all myself.” He explains, “But...I had to ask Osamu for help because I didn’t know where to start.” He admits, voice a little lower than before.

You step into the kitchen to take it all in  — the kitchen is a mess, the sink full of dishes and it looks like he spilled something all over the stove. But you know he’s trying, in his own stupid way, to make it up to you.

He approaches you carefully, scared that you’ll storm out again. To his surprise, you await his embrace. He wraps his arms around you while you hesitantly wrap yours around him.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers for the first time, “I didn’t mean what I said.” 

You think he might be crying.

“I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.” 

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

MAKKI

He hates to think that he could’ve done something wrong in the first place. 

Because it was only a joke.

You had invited your family over for dinner. While all of you are having a good time and getting along for once, Makki decides to make a joke in an attempt to make your family like him. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the time or the place for this particular joke —   it’s inappropriate and borderline offensive, especially to you.  You, most out of everyone, are appalled and shocked that he’d even bring something like that up. It makes everyone stiff and the aura is suddenly uncomfortable; the air is stuffy and no one knows what to say in response. You excused yourself from the table, dragging Makki outside to the balcony by his ear. He groaned in complaint and once you left the table, everyone shared knowing looks. By the time the both of you returned inside, everyone had already finished their food and was ready to leave, eager to leave the tense atmosphere. You were beyond embarrassed and disappointed that the night had gone awry.

You pointedly ignored him for the rest of the night because you decided that you were too upset to fight. You cleaned up by yourself despite Makki’s protests to let him help you. You shouldered him off and he didn’t know what to do. He was starting to get frustrated, but he knew not to say anything in retort. 

Unfortunately, like most men, Makki has his pride. But, he realizes that he would much rather admit he’d done something to upset you rather than sit, brood, and refuse to apologize. Of course, since it is Makki, he has to put a fun and exciting twist to it.

He’ll usually give you your space for a few hours, acting like he is oblivious to the silent treatment you always give him when you’re upset. He looks past all the harsh glares you throw his way and he ignores the scoffs you make when he walks past you in your shared apartment. He even gives you a flippant, ‘bye!’ when you leave to get some fresh air because the tension is so thick that the both of you feel like you’re going to suffocate.

While you’re gone, he scrambles to get things ready as he prepares to build a blanket fort for the both of you. It might be childish, but the two of you have never been afraid to indulge in ‘kiddie’ activities. And he knows how much you love to watch movies together. He even makes the quickest trip to the convenience store in his life – rushing to get you your favorite snacks and drink. 

He barely makes it home before you return. He's putting the final touches when he hears you unlocking the door.

 As he whips around, you walk in and your eyes go wide.

“What’s this?” You question, eyeing his guilty expression. 

“I’m sorry.”  Is all he says.

You scoff for probably the hundredth time today. As you unlace your shoes and shrug your coat off your shoulders, you hear him messing around with the television. Your heart is racing as you try to decide if you’re still upset at him. 

“Do you know how uncomfortable you made everyone? You’re so–” 

“I shouldn’t have made such a stupid joke.”

“You think?” 

You fail to realize that your boyfriend has closed the distance between you two. He sweeps you off your feet, strong arms picking you up to hold you bridal style. 

“Hey!” You scream.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs with a soft smile, before he playfully throws you inside the fort, your back hitting an array of pillows. You squeal in response and he is quick to follow you inside. You look around and he’s put a lot of effort in – he even used the bar stools so that you’d have more room. He sits beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulls you to his side. 

“Please forgive me.” He whispers into your ear, kissing all over your face and neck as you protest. 

“‘Hiro!” You laugh, trying to fight him off but it’s fruitless. You enjoy his proximity and even, you recognize the fact that he’s doing his best to cheer you up.

You can’t help the giggle that bubbles up from your throat as he restlessly starts attacking you with his affection.

 Then, you forget why you were even mad in the first place.

[sunfish-studies]

Small Talk

✄・・・ Crisp Leaves [Aoba Johsai Manager Series]

➜ Pairing: Aoba Johsai x Manager! Reader

➜ Warning: none

➜ Notes: Manager in this story will be portrayed as a girl. She will be tall, around 170.5 cm.

↷ SUMMARY ↶

Yes, they were wondering about your almost nonexistent love live.

“Hey, [Nickname]-chan, I’ve been thinking about this really hard,” Oikawa drawled after swallowing his favorite milk bread, cheek resting on top of the desk.

“Knowing Oikawa is thinking hard, must be something stupid,” Hanamaki commented.

“Why did you say that so casually!?” sure enough, the slander managed to revive the captain from his slump–shooting out from his seat almost instantly.

Currently, it was lunch and the third years were hanging out at Iwaizumi and your class–pushing your desks together and pulled up a few chairs to accommodate five people at the same time. While you packed your own lunch and Oikawa brought his milk bread, the rest was taking a short journey to the cafeteria for food.

“I couldn’t help but agree,” Matsukawa added, hurting the boy’s pride even further.

“[Nickname]-chan!” of course, the best way for him to be out of this misery is to call out for your help.

“What is it?” you decided to indulge him this time because the captain seemed to be invested in this certain topic each minute passed.

Oikawa pointed at you before moving to gesture Hanamaki, Matsukawa, and Iwaizumi along with him including. “You are surrounded by boys.”

Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, you answered nonetheless. “…I can see that.”

“A lot of boys for more than three years!”

“Well, I am the manager of the boys’ volley club if you forget.”

“What are you on about?” Iwaizumi deadpanned, not liking how this certain topic stretched out–the ‘ridiculous alarm’ in the back of his head was ringing, signaling that indeed this conversation went from least normal to weird in an alarming rate.

“Don’t you see, Iwa-chan!?” Oikawa gasped dramatically, pointing towards you in earnest. “[Nickname]-chan is surrounded by boys for more than three years! You bound to like some at some point! Why have I never heard about this!? I thought I’m your best friend!”

There’s a pregnant silence before Hanamaki broke it by remarking, “You really are a moron.”

Oikawa pressed a hand upon his chest, faking as if an arrow just stabbed through his heart–not believing this sort of betrayal. “I’m hurt Makki!”

“But he does have a point,” Matsukawa, with his saving grace, decided to take this into his account for once. He looked at you for a moment and hummed. “I mean, everyone has been through that phase somehow. Wanna share?”

“Thank you for making my point valid!” Oikawa harrumphed in triumph, which earned him a disgusted gaze from Iwaizumi.

You sighed in resignation, finally getting into conclusion. “To put it simple, you want to know about my nonexistent love life?”

“I’ve seen you getting confessed to by a senior so it’s not really nonexistent.” Hanamaki commented, pulling up a lazy smirk as he rested his chin on his palm–successfully dragged out another resigned sigh. And how did he even know that was beyond you.

“Well, what do you want to know?”

“Did you have a crush on someone during middle school!?” Oikawa exclaimed–the ruckus he caused managed to gather pairs of curious eyes diverting their gaze towards their table, and received a heartful smack on the back of his head courtesy of Iwaizumi.

“I did.” Your quick answer without a hint of hesitation made the four taken aback–definitely not expecting it. They were more ready with lots of stutter, reluctancy to reply, and flaming red engulfing your face as you confessed to them–the usual routine if someone ever dug other’s deepest secret.

“That was fast,” Matsukawa remarked, shoulders eased up a little. True, even though you’re practically under the spotlight of sudden interrogation you didn’t feel the need to be nervous or flustered–which kind of intimidated them a bit. Contrast to it, they were actually the ones who were tense with whatever answer you had in store–maybe this is what you called an anticipation.

They would declare themselves a hypocrite if not once they thought of you as someone who’s not attractive–considering you were getting attentions from others especially during official matches. They’re the opposite gender so of course they took it to their mind at some moment.

“So, who is it?” Hanamaki asked, rising a brow.

“Tooru.”

“…Please tell me you’re joking.” If short-circuiting is capable to happen in one’s brain, then Iwaizumi had that undoubtedly. You? Had a crush on Oikawa during middle school? At this moment, snowing in tropical regions would likely be more possible than your statement. Even Hanamaki and Matsukawa found themselves rendered speechless by your revelation.

“Sadly not,” all of his hope was crushed in an instant. You then directed a bored stare towards the said mentioned person. “To be honest, I’m questioning myself too. Do my taste really stooped that low?”

“Y-You’re mean, [Nickname]-chan!” Oikawa protested. “But it’s nice knowing my charms works on you!”

“Thank goodness you’ve opened your eyes for the truth, [First Name],” Matsukawa sighed in relief, incurring another series of protests from the brunette and a satisfied firm nod from Hanamaki.

“I’m assuming you’re not currently?” the pink-haired boy added which earned him a nod.

“I’m over it, it’s an old story after all,” You took a short second for swallowing before continuing, smiling playfully. “Knowing he’s vowed his unending loyalty to volleyball, I know when to back off.”

“You are a good person,” Hanamaki hummed in understanding. It’s difficult to recover from heartbreak or backing down from a certain feelings, you managed to do that for Oikawa earn another respect point from him. You thought of the brunette thoroughly unlike the girls he’s been with, you respect and fully support him instead of telling him to tone down his ambitions for aiming higher in volleyball.

“That, I can agree.” Unexpectedly, it came from the mentioned captain. His playfulness vanished as he moved to rested his chin on top of the desk. There’s solemn reflected on his eyes which you couldn’t quite decipher; was it guilt?

“If you’re thinking on apologizing then don’t,” Stating firmly, you placed your chopsticks down to emphasized. Because there’s nothing for him to apologize. Not with things which wasn’t in his control to begin with. “I can’t choose to who to like, and it’s my own decision anyway. If I felt hurt, it’s on me. You’re not responsible for any of it, Tooru. Besides, either it’s romantic or not, I still love you.”

People would take it as cringe worthy or too dramatic in modern era such as currently. However, that’s how feelings worked; sometimes extremely hard to put into words, sometimes it didn’t even need to be vocalized. Your words held honesty–no matter what, you cared for Tooru, Hajime, and the others immensely.

“[Nickname]-channn!!” As usual, there’s fake waterworks involved as soon as Oikawa successfully comprehended. As usual, he bolted from his seat to threw himself on you. Though, you keep it to yourself when you took a notice on how his hug was firmer than the usual playful ones.

Then there were more hands joining in; one settled on your head, one resting on your shoulder, and a little finger intertwined itself with yours. It was quite a sight to see, but you couldn’t care less.

You love your boys.

[starjaeyun]

PINK !

— hanamaki dyes his hair pink when he finds out that it's your favorite color

includes! hanamaki takahiro x fem! reader

warnings! profanity, the seijoh 4 are in their 1st year in this

note! i'm not too sure whether or not pink-brown is hanamaki's natural hair color but i came up with this little delusion and i invite all of u to join me in it 😘😻❤ and i definitely did not write this because i am obsessed w/ pink hehehehehe 🥰

friday

hanamaki hates the color pink. and the whole volleyball club was well aware of this, especially his fellow 1st years. he made sure to remind them how much he hates that color whenever they told him that he would look good in it.

"makki! are you still considering to dye your hair? there's a new salon that just opened up recently! we should check it out, i read great reviews about it online!" now that oikawa brought it up he remembers that he was yet to pick a color to dye his hair into

"yeah, i am. though i'm not sure about the color yet" he explains, "and no i will not dye it pink" he adds upon seeing the similar expression the other three had

"i don't blame you for not wanting to dye it pink" iwaizumi starts, "i heard pink is a hard color to look good in"

oikawa raised his brow, "and where did you hear that? knowing you, you're not the type to look such things up"

"y/n told me about it"

of course, they were also well aware of hanamaki's huge crush on iwaizumi's classmate, whom he met on their first day of volleyball practice when she gave iwaizumi his water bottle that he left in their classroom

"nice try, not gonna work this time" hanamaki flashed him a sarcastic smile and continued munching on his onigiri

"i'm not kidding though. that woman is obsessed with pink even i'm starting to think her blood is pink and glittery"

monday

hanamaki makes his way to the gym, still sleepy and not fully awake for morning practice. he hears a group of people, obviously the rest of seijoh, talking so loudly inside. he yawns, "why do they sound more energetic than usual?"

and it was like he was showered with ice cold water when he opened the doors. because what the fuck were you doing there? and happily chatting with the coaches?!

"YOU DYED YOUR HAIR WITHOUT ME?!" oikawa's loud and annoying— as described by iwaizumi, matsukawa and hanamaki— voice echos through the gym

matsukawa and iwaizumi bursts out laughing, "and don't you hate pink?" oikawa, who was now pouting, adds

at his words, you let out an offensive gasp, "hanamaki hates pink?!" now you were starting to walk towards him along with the other first years, "but why?! pink suits you! i told iwa-chan many times that pink would suit you!"

hanamaki doesn't know where all his nervousness went but he was thankful that it decided to leave, "ah...i don't really hate it, i think it's alright"

the trio looks at him with a raised brow, "you told us last friday that you hate—" hanamaki coughs to interrupt matsukawa's sentence and as if luck was on his side, coach mizoguchi called for you to come over the benches

"what's she doing here?" he asked as he watched your retreating figure, "she applied for as our manager" iwaizumi explains while still giving hanamaki a judging look

"could you guys quit looking at me like that?!"

hanamaki hates the color pink

"we've been convincing you to dye your hair pink for more than a month and one mention of y/n-chan loving pink was all it took for you to actually dye it pink?!" oikawa's complains fell on deaf ears as they walked to their teammates

hanamaki hates the color pink. but if he had to dump pink paint all over himself for you to notice him, he would gladly do so

© starjaeyun on tumblr | do not steal, copy, translate or repost

[splitontendo]

pairing: takahiro hanamakki x f!reader

synopsis: having no money and the worst job leads you to dark places, answering a strangers roommate ad. leading you to meet the roommate from hell, who happens to have the solution to your problems and isn’t too bad at giving head.

09 | hole pic tmr tho??

masterlist | previous | next

fun facts!

makki doing anything to get you out his mind..😆

you two have been so busy and have different schedules so haven’t properly met one another :/

hiro followed you back on twitter 🩷

[sugawarassoulmate]

📢 get Maki laid with a Maki-lovesick filthy rich girl!! have him show her off to the other 3 and get them to shut up 😤

he definitely is the kind of guy that doesn't argue lmao it's always "whatever you want mama" LOLLL

he would totally end up with a mean, spoiled rich girl that keeps him to dress him up and to parade him around at social gatherings.

and homie is INTO it. he asks no questions, just tells you what size pants he wears and what time he needs to be ready by we STAN.

[heich0e]

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.

[rintarousgirl]

HAUNTING ME

a hanamaki takahiro smau <3

❀ - SYPNOSIS

y/n and hanamaki are best friends, or at least, you were in high school. growing up, you always had the biggest crush on your childhood best friend hanamaki takahiro, but after an unfortunate fallout between the two of you, you promised yourself you wouldn't let your feelings be toyed like that again. that is, until you run into him years in the future. now, you're both very successful models, stuck in the same PR photo shoot. after being featured on the cover of multiple fashion magazines, fans love the dyanmic between you two and your managers set up a pr relationship. how could you deal with hanamaki takahiro, your cruel ex from high school, now butting into your career? simple answer is, you couldn't.

❀ - WARNINGS

there will be alcohol and some suggestive stuff throughout the fic, but there will be warnings before each chapter for sensitive stuff relating specifically to that chapter. overall the fic deals with toxic relationships as well.

teasers

teaser 1 \ teaser 2

profiles

"people on magazine covers (+ y/n)" & "makimaki's stalkers"

chapters (note: chapter titles are submit to change!)

PART ONE: ghosts of my past 01. y/n's girlies 02. keeping up with maki 03. lights, cameras, action 04. stars shine 05. can't believe it, won't believe it 06. subtly 07. about whispers 08. out of my hands 09. keys to my heart 10. won't say i'm in love

PART TWO: don't leave me like this (not planned yet) 11. pretty when you cry 12. hold my hand 13. forgiveness 14. things i cant ever say 15. hurts like hell 16. nobodys daughter 17. could've, should've, would've 18. 19. 20.

please request, comment, or dm to be added to the taglist !! to be removed, do the same :))

a/n:

so, i'm starting another series, but this time it's with a lesser-liked character! i'm not gonna start it till after i finish "i wanna be yours" but i will drop teasers and what not. i hope this is well received because i know hanamaki is liked as a character but i havent seen anything for him so i really REALLY hope i can show y'all how cool he is. i wanna say a thanks to @idlerin who inspired "i wanna be yours" and "haunting me". hell, this masterlist is heavily based of theirs!! thank you so much for inspiring me, and i know SO SO many others agree <3

[mymegumi]

THAT BOY’S A MUNCH! ˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙‧̍̊

comes home for work and practically begs to eat you out on the daily. could spend hours eating your pussy out n making you come over and over again. asks you incessantly to sit on his face, insists that even if you do crush him, he’ll die happy cause ‘he suffocated in that pussy’. will rut and grind his poor cock into the bed, his hand, the floor, anything just to get off at the same time as you but doesn’t want to fuck you just yet. gets so turned on when you smush your thighs against his head cause the feeling of his tongue circling your clit is just too much for you. would rather spend hours eating you out than fucking you, just because it turns him on so much to see you come just from his mouth.

hanamaki takahiro, NISHINOYA YUU, tanaka ryuunosuke, hinata shoyo, haiba lev, koganegawa kanji, BOKUTO KOUTAROU, MIYA ATSUMU, hirugami sachiro

[sixosix]

Hii❤️❤️ if you’re taking requests, may I ask for a drabble (angst ofc) where the rest of seijoh 4 convince yn to break up with iwa bc his ex who they think is his soulmate is back in town? They look like they can be mean 🥹🥹

( ! ) angst w iwa :(, hurt/comfort, fluff w the three <3

( & ) also idk if u meant ‘mean’ by iwa’s ex or the boys so i did neither bc i didnt want to write yanderes 💀

𝐎𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐔

his finger slips under your chin, raising it enough for you to instinctively meet his eyes. “hey,” he murmurs.

“not now, t’ru,” you sniffle, tipping your chin away from his grasp. you probably look ugly right now, nose stuffy and eyes aching, but tooru doesn’t even question it.

“i know,” he sighs, “sorry. i heard what happened.”

ah, so that explains everything.

usually, tooru isn’t ever this gentle. he dives in face-first and doesn’t look twice. he breaks, but he mends himself back together again stronger than before—you wish you could be like him right now.

“you’re okay,” he coos into your ear. “you’re good. it’s not your fault. i’m sorry it had to happen this way.” he keeps going—too soft for even you to understand sometimes.

you chuckle, a wet and pitiful sound. “isn’t—isn’t haji— iwaizumi your best friend?”

tooru, observant as ever, lifts a brow at your switch of name. “between you and him, who do you think would need someone the most? i may be loyal, but i’m not an ignorant asshole, y/n-chan~!” he sings, smiling.

“screw them,” tooru exclaims, resting his forehead against yours, “you have me from now on, alright?”

you wonder if he means it in more ways than one.

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀 𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐈

at the sound of footsteps, you scramble to grab your belongings and wipe away the tears on your stricken face.

but issei is faster. he catches your wrist and peers down at you with his usual face—save for the curious glint that sparks in his eye.

“we were only joking around when we said they were like soulmates,” issei states rather bluntly, faltering only slightly when your lip wavers at his admission.

“it still,” you sniffle, “still hurts. seeing them like that. thought i was— thought i was good enough.”

“you are,” issei says, and his earnestness almost catches you off guard. “iwaizumi’s ex is… a lot, you know. nothing like you.”

“is that a good thing when i got broken up with?” you laugh bitterly, warmth seeping from where he’s still holding you.

“if you think they’re meant to be, then wouldn’t you also be meant to be with the right guy this time?” issei quirks an eyebrow, a little playful. it’s always a glimpse of something when it comes to him.

“so you’re saying i should just—”

“let him go, y/n.”

for a guy that holds an expression as expressive as a blank paper, his presence is rather comforting right now.

“i’m glad you’re here, issei,” you mumble, and he pats your head. usually, you’d swat his hand away and stick your tongue out, but you can’t help but close your eyes and smile at the touch.

“anything for you,” issei whispers, and it turns into him running his fingers through your hair.

𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎

“break up with him.”

you scrunch your nose, “takahiro—”

“i’m gonna be honest, y/n, i really don’t give a fuck about what excuse you’ll have for them,” he says, and though his face is carefully drawn away from any telling emotion, his words are like acid to the ears.

“i still… love hajime, i can’t just ignore that,” you tell him, frowning in confusion at the hostility so rare in takahiro’s voice boiling over.

“if you’d want to put up with someone’s ex who said that ‘you can’t compare’ just to be with him, that’s not love,” takahiro says, gently knocking his knuckles on your arm. “at least, not from iwaizumi, who didn’t do anything.”

you can’t help but grimace, nearly falling over from exhaustion. but takahiro catches you and lets you rest your head on his shoulder.

“it’s hard.”

takahiro sighs, “if you don’t break up with him, i will.”

you snort, a sound that surprises the both of you, “t-that’s not how it works, makki.”

you never called him that before, usually reserved for oikawa. but you must be a little too out of it to catch your slip.

“is this you trying to say ‘i’ll be here to help you’ in makki language?” you ask. it’s supposed to be a joke to make him laugh, too, but you’re too drained to let it hit.

his warmth is a blessing in the chilling air that’s been hanging heavy since you and iwaizumi fought. you lean closer and he lets you.

you two sit there, on the floor of the gymnasium, but neither of you pull away for even a second of hesitation.

his eyes soften impossibly. “looks like you already know the answer.”

𝐈𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐄

“do you believe in soulmates?”

hajime’s face sours—whether it’s from guilt or contemplation, you wouldn’t know. he seemed like a completely person yesterday when they walked in the room and demanded his attention without a word.

but it’s not his fault. fate does not lie. red threads do not deceive the truth—just like you and iwa.

“i do,” he says, slowly, “but they’re not always right—”

“i don’t,” you say, eyes hazy and faraway, as if you can’t even hear him right now. “because i thought it was us.”

hajime’s fists tremble, the only betrayal to his strangely still composure. “it doesn’t mean anything,” he grits through a pinched expression as if he’s hurting himself as he says it.

“you may be breaking my heart right now, but that doesn’t mean you should also do it to them, iwaizumi,” you say, and he falters.

“i really did believe it, y/n,” iwaizumi says, but it’s hard to tell if it’s answer to your question or whatever was between the two of you.

but that doesn’t matter.

( & ) SORRY if this has mistakes i literally wrote this in one sitting. or well, lying. i’m still on my bed (^з^)-☆ reblogs and comments r soso helpful if u like these <3

[youmarin]

I Don't Like You | Hanamaki Takahiro x Reader!

Word count: 5,462

Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro x reader (enemies to...) Oikawa Tooru x reader, Iwaizumi Hajime x reader and Matsukawa Issei x reader (all platonic)

Another day, another class, another occasion for Hanamaki Takahiro to disrupt it with the ruckus he and his best friend Matsukawa had going on at the back of the classroom. You rolled your eyes. 

You’ve known the strawberry blonde ever since middle school. He was slightly popular with being on the volleyball team and everyone saw some sort of charisma in him that you failed to appreciate. To you, he was just a class clown who liked attention. An insufferable, dumb jock. 

Then you were first year highschoolers. You almost cried while you read the lists of your assigned homerooms when you stumbled upon his name. One thing was just bearing with him in the hallways, but now he was your classmate? 

“Sorry, my bad. Dude, stop fucking pushing me.” He absentmindedly apologized to you as his dark haired friend nudged him to make way to the front line before the bulletin board. 

“How?” You heard Iwaizumi exclaim. 

“Did you two bribe the principal or something?” Oikawa chuckled. “How is it that you ended up in the advanced courses?”

“What? What are you talking about? We wouldn’t be so dumb to do that.” 

“Well, apparently you aren’t as dumb as to not make it into first class.” 

“No wonder we couldn’t find ourselves anywhere else.” 

“I heard the advanced English teacher is hell.” some other student said, and they picked it up. 

“Oi, is that true?” Matsukawa asked warily.

“A lot of people have said that. They said a lot of upperclassmen used to complain about her.”

“But-But these are optional right? You can change to regular classes if you don’t like where they placed you.” Hanamaki asked not so confident.

“Sure. But you can validate these as college courses. If you plan to go.” Hajime explained. “You should give it a try either way.” 

“If by midterms you’re failing you could switch up. Or find a tutor.” Oikawa advised. 

“How is it that you’ve been in advanced courses all this time? Honestly, I never saw you as the smart type outside of a volleyball court.” Oikawa was triggered and offended, to say the least. 

“FYI, I’m very smart. Also I work hard and that pays off.” He adjusted his glasses.

“And y/n has saved his ass countless times.” Added Iwaizumi knowingly. 

“Y/n?” Hanamaki asked curiously, “That name rings a bell. Is it that nerdy girl with glasses who makes out everyone else is stupid and thinks she’s hot shit?” 

“No. How dare you confuse my sweet y/n with that meanie. She’s bitter because y/n always beats her and is first in our class. Wait, there she is. Y/n-chan!” Oikawa called out to you and Hanamaki followed his gaze ‘til he met a girl: average height, long, wavy black hair, cinnamon kissed skin, full lips, small nose and dark eyes. You smiled at Oikawa and at Iwaizumi who was by his side. But when your eyes landed on him and Mattsun you became serious. 

“Huh. Smart, pretty too. But, ” Matsukawa said, looking at you as you made your way over to them. “she looks quite scary.” 

“She can be.” Iwaizumi agreed, “but she’s good.” 

“How is a shrimp scary?” Hanamaki snorted, making fun of his friends.

“Who are you calling shrimp, My Melody?” you bit back. 

“Oh.”  Yeah, Mattsun still found you scary.

“Just so you know, that’s a compliment.” He smirked at you. “Bad bitches look good in pink.” 

“Okaaay off to a rough start I see.” Oikawa made a survey of the situation. “Y/n, you’re making me look bad.” 

“Huh, I thought that was just how you looked.” Iwaizumi pondered, making you laugh. Okay, she laughs, Makki thought.

Oikawa glared at his spiky haired best friend “Whatever.” He plastered a smile on his face addressing you, “I wanted to officially present to you some new classmates.” He gestured towards the duo, “Meet-“

“Hanamaki Takahiro.” He cut Oikawa off. 

“Matsukawa Issei.” followed the tall, black haired boy, throwing an arm over the former’s shoulders. 

“Oh I know you two.” 

“Keeping tabs about us?” 

“Rather staying clear of you.” 

“Tōru, I think your friend chose to be sour today.” 

“I… Hope we can get along. Someday.” Matsukawa said awkwardly. 

Back to the present, you were now in your last semester as second years and to your surprise he’d managed to stay in the group - barely making it yet somehow- and you still thought the same way about him. 

“Is there something you two want to share with the class, Mr. Hanamaki and Mr. Matsukawa?” 

“Uh, not really, sir. You see, this is a private conversation.” Takahiro answered, gesturing between Mattsun and himself.

“Then why don’t you take your private conversation to somewhere more private, like the principal’s office?” The teacher said.

“I wouldn’t want to bother the principal, sir.” You noticed how the rest of the class held back their smiles. Your teacher sighed, asking for patience from the heavens to deal with a brat. 

“Alright. I'll humor you too. In fact, class, thanks to Hanamaki you’re all to hand over the exercises from pages 67 to 72 in their entirety. They’ll be part of your grade for a surprise test.” If anyone had a trace of a smile on their face it had vanished now, and the entire class erupted in complaints, some throwing nasty looks at the culprit, remarkably his other two friends. Iwaizumi and Oikawa turned on their seats and muttered something to him. 

“Nice job, dumbass.” 

You gathered your things when the teacher dismissed the class. In fact, you just had to review your notes and the material from your textbook. You had already done the exercises from the workbook in advance, given that March was approaching and with it your finals. You had tons of homework assigned already, and you didn’t like to pile them up. 

“Y/n-chan.” You heard his singsong voice. Almost everyone had left the room besides the four volleyball team players and you. The teacher had held Makki and Matssun back to reprimand them. 

“Let me guess. You want the answers to the exercises.” You told Oikawa knowingly. 

“I don’t think the answers will be enough.”  Oikawa grimaced. “I would like to understand what he’s talking about if he’s going to make us pass a test.” 

You smiled a bit amused, “So, study session?” 

“Of course! Have I told you you’re an angel? 

“Yes, you have. Every time you use flattery to make up for what you asked.” Iwaizumi looked at him disgustingly. 

“I don’t know, she seems more like a demon to me.”  Hanamaki shared as he walked over to the rest of you, Matsukawa following him. 

You glared at him before dismissing his comment and addressing Iwaizumi, “You’re joining?” 

“Uh- Sure. I could use a little help too.” He gave you a small smile, feeling a little embarrassed. 

“Oh you’re making a study group?” Mattsun asked, interested. Makki wished he could take back his latest comment. While Oikawa saw the opportunity and grasped it. Hajime saw his intentions clear in the brunette’s eyes. 

‘Oh, yes! It’s perfect. Why don’t we all study together?” He suggested. It was a great plan where you could sort things out with both class and Hanamaki. It was hard for him that his friends didn’t get along -for whatever the reason was- when you spent most of your days together during class and rather often outside. He could try to make Makki be a little gentler with you and if he managed to convince Hajime to do the same with you he was sure it’ll work out. 

“Uh I don’t know…” you looked over indiscreetly at Hanamaki. 

Makki was about to respond “Wait. Me? With you?” He made a face. As much as he could use your help he’d rather die on the spot than asking you. But Tooru kicked him slightly, making him yelp in surprise, stopping him from finishing whatever he planned to say. “Okay, okay. If you don’t mind.” He muttered throwing foul looks at Oikawa. 

It was Monday, the volleyball club’s day of rest, so the group walked together straight to your house when school was over. You walked ahead with Iwaizumi, the air still cold in the mid February twilight. Your cheeks were turning slightly rosy, and you could see your breath when you exhaled. You wished you had brought your scarf. 

As you all agreed to stop at a coffee shop, Oikawa threw a look at Makki and gestured something before he left with Hajime to order. He didn’t understand what the former wanted, “What?” he mouthed.

Tooru almost groaned. This is why girls say chivalry is dead. 

Matsukawa picked up the message instead. “Here.” He said, getting your attention. Taking off his black scarf, he didn’t lose time to gently place it around your neck, not giving you any time to protest nor reject his gesture. 

“Thanks.” You welcomed in the warmth the soft fabric brought, and Mattsun took that as a win. Sure, he’d felt that during the past months you had at least become acquaintances and had been polite to each other. Things between you weren’t as hostile as when it came to Hanamaki, who finally rolled his eyes as he understood what the brunette meant. He’d lost the opportunity. Mattsun gave him a sorry look, but soon Makki brushed it off. Why did he have to be nice to you when you were the one who acted like you had a stick up your ass every time you were around him? He never did anything to you. 

“We’’ll go to my room so as not to disrupt my parents.”  

“Is your mom home? I'd like to greet her.” Your mom had already met Oikawa by the countless times he’d been over. She loved him and needless to say she would plan your wedding if you so much as told her you liked him. But to her dismay you were just friends. Your dad didn’t like him though. He said pretty boys like him must be looking to break your heart. Also Tooru was scared of him. 

“She’ll be here later.” You told him as you guided them through the hallway and to your room. 

“Would like to know where she gets her attitude from.” Makki said under his breath. 

“Oikawa would say from his dad because he doesn’t like him.” Hajime confided and they snickered, making fun of the brunette. 

Tooru sneezed, then turned to both of them at the same time you did, “What are you two going on about?” 

“Nothing.” 

You had gone out of the room for a moment, telling the boys to make themselves comfortable, feeling a little mortified to let into your house and into your room a boy you supposedly hated his guts. 

Oikawa jumped in your bed while Iwaizumi got your desk chair, and Mattsun sat on a bean bag chair on the floor. Hanamaki inspected your room, seeing several posters of your favorite musicians, a CD player laying on your bed that Oikawaa had grabbed, bookshelves, drawings on top of your desk, pictures - Mostly of landscapes but there were also family pictures . He recognized you with Iwaizumi and Tooru on a couple -, some paintings on the wall and some on the floor waiting to be hanged. 

“It’s a nice bedroom.” he commented, and everything was going fine, until he opened his mouth again, “I remember this girl that took me over to her place and she had this collection of creepy porcelain dolls on one big shelf that covered the wall opposite her bed. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to get i-”

“Okay,” you came back in time to cut him off, carrying another bean bag chair in for him, “Thanks for the compliment on my room but I don’t need to hear that.” 

“Right. Sorry. Forgot you probably have never gotten laid, or either kissed someone.” 

“Ugh, Makki, please shut the fuck up.” Oikawa shook his head and Hajime brushed a hand down his face. He was unbelievable. 

“Not that is any of your business, but I do have kissed someone.” You said calmly as you took your notebooks out of your bag and sat next to Oikawa. 

“That’s a shocker. Who?” He said, plopping down on the chair as he finished his tea. 

“Why do you care?” You raised a brow and Oikawa smiled down at his hands. In any other moment he would be harassing you about the subject in question to know but he was being real quiet. 

“I don’t but since you’re dropping information like that you could just share the whole thing.” He shrugged. “Does he go to Seijoh too?” 

“Yes.” 

“And?” 

“And what?” 

He smirked, as if realizing something, “Nah, wait. Bet it was some weird ugly ass kid and that’s why you don’t want to tell.” 

Now if he wasn’t able to speak, you four would’ve witnessed a miracle that evening, “Excuse you?! Who the hell you dare call ugly. If I may say I’m the prettiest male in the room.” Oikawa came clean and you smacked him right in his chest so hard he lost his breath for a moment. 

“Oh great.” you muttered, a hand covering your face. 

“No fucking way.” Makki started with a chuckle, staring at Oikawa incredulously.

“You didn’t know?!” Mattsun asked Iwaizumi given his expression.

 Hajime shook his head, “No wonder you weren’t curious.” 

“Really? This guy?” Matsukawa continued. 

“What does that mean?” Oikawa whined. 

“Fine. We were in middle school and were what? 15?” 

“Yeah I had just turned 15. And you were still 13.” Oikawa smiled as he recalled. 

“So you dated?” 

“Not really. We’ve always been good friends. It just happened, everyone was doing it and we wanted to know what it was like.” 

“We just figured at that moment that if we wanted to have our first kiss there wasn’t anyone better than us.” You chuckled, flustered. It was a little embarrassing, and you basically had forgotten what led you to this conversation. 

“Wait, so,” Hanamaki kept in interrogation mode, “you haven’t kissed anyone else since him?” 

“No.” you shook your head, “What are we doing? What am I doing? Grab your notes and let’s start studying.”

*

Spring brought new beginnings, a gentler breeze, slowly beginning to bid farewell to winter with soft sunny days and much livelier nights. 

Your eyes captured the pretty pink veil made out of cherry blossom trees, which flowers rained down as their branches danced with the gusts of wind. It was very romantic walking under the pink snow. 

Hanamaki was walking to school that morning when he saw you as he turned in the curve and got to the main road. He didn’t live far from your house, so sometimes - when he wasn’t late- he saw you. The couple of times you’d noticed him, you’d just nodded in acknowledgment and continued your way, walking with him just a few steps back. He wondered if he should greet you. Thinking about that time at your house it wasn’t that bad between you two. Hopefully you might think the same. 

He debated with himself and at the end chose to go for it, words dying in his mouth when he saw you stop to take pictures. Makki wondered how many cherry blossoms were in your camera roll by now. He waited as to not interrupt you, and that’s when it happened. He saw you slip as you were about to resume walking, and before he knew it he was running to catch you, under the risk of slipping on the blossoms himself and breaking something. 

You had screamed and closed your eyes tightly, accepting your fate, but the fall didn’t come. Instead, you felt a pair of arms engulfing you in a secure grip. You opened one of your eyes and were met with a worried Hanamaki looking down on you. “You okay?”  Having not recovered your speech yet, you nodded hastily. Then, grinning, “Falling for me?” 

“Shut up.” There it was. “Going to help me stand up?” you shrieked as he made it to let go of you while he laughed. 

“You really thought I would drop you after all?” Some of the flowers had gotten on his hair. He did as you said when you just remained silent looking up at him and his smile, and got you back on both feet safely. 

 “You could’ve hurt yourself.” You said, avoiding looking at him. 

“So you mean to say I was supposed to let you fall?”  you shrugged and he scoffed. Makki took a look at you: your hair had gotten a bit messier, hands buried in the pockets of your jacket, expression serious and rosy cheeks. He wouldn’t lie, he thought you looked cute. “Or by any chance you’re worrying about me?” 

“I’m not.” you quickly protested, frowning. “But I don’t want to be the reason you miss volleyball club.” 

“Of course. It’s just that.” He raised a brow, amused as you nodded along. You still weren’t looking at him. “A “thank you” would’ve been enough for me.” 

“Thanks.” 

“You’re very welcome.” he smiled, pleased, but it quickly vanished as you turned to keep walking. “Wait, hey- Wait up!” He hurried to fall into step with you, careful not to slip, “We can walk to school together since we’re here.” 

“No, thanks.” you spoke back to him.

“I thought we just had a moment back there.” he gave you a side look. “And back at your house you had to admit it wasn’t so bad.” 

“Yeah, after I cut you off before you could talk about sex.” 

“Jealous?” 

“Ugh, this is what I’m talking about.” you stopped and turned to him, irritation clear on your voice and in your features. “You’re so unserious. “I’ll be surprised if you actually cared about something.” 

A look crossed his eyes you couldn’t quite grasp. Did it actually hurt him what you said? No, whatever you said couldn’t possibly matter to him. You continued walking, thinking he wouldn’t say anything but then he spoke up, “Okay, you can think whatever you want. Even if you barely know me.” 

When you reached the school gates, he spoke up again, “Honestly, I think you could be nice. Maybe if you weren’t so worried about everything and guarded all the time… I don’t know. I think you could use some unseriousness.” Then he went ahead, leaving you to take a deep breath to get your cool back and reflect on what he had just said. 

Maybe… Maybe you’ve gone a little too far. 

*

 It was the day of the opening ceremony and you were about to begin your last year of high school. 

“Oi! Sour Patch kid.” You heard him call you by that nickname he’d picked for you. Makki was waiting for you at the entrance of the hall. Ever since that conversation you had, your behaviour around him had improved. He wondered if it had something to do with whatever he might’ve said - he’d forgotten most of it by now-. But he wasn’t complaining, and neither were the rest of the boys. At least now you could stand in a room without throwing comments at each other. It was a sort of silent truce. 

“Where are the others?” You asked, looking around for them. Still, it felt awkward to be left alone with him.  

“Oikawa was held back somewhere by a bunch of girls and Hajime went to the rescue. Mattsun is saving our seats.” You nodded.

“They let you inside like that?” You signaled. 

“Oh. That. We avoid the principal and the teachers.” He shrugged. He gave a step back and threw his hands up as you stepped over to him. “Woah, what the hell are you doing?” 

“You could at least button up your shirt.” You started to fix it up for him under his nervous gaze. “And where is your tie?” 

“I didn’t- I didn’t bring one.” He stuttered an answer and you shook your head. 

You fixed his collar without it. “There. Looks much better now at least.” You smiled, satisfied with your work, until you looked up at him. He was staring at you intently. You hadn’t removed your hands from his shoulders. 

“Sorry for being late!” Oikawa shouted and sighed as if he had been running for miles, breaking whatever spell you had fallen under and startling you both, “What were you two doing?” 

“Waiting for you. What else?” You crossed your arms defensively.

“Did our homeroom teacher see you?” Iwaizumi said to Makki and snorted. “You look like a model student for once.” 

When you three walked inside, Mattsun waved you over. “Makki, you look… pink. And I’m not talking about your hair.” He spoke to his best friend who was blushing furiously. 

*

One of your new teachers had thought that by moving Makki to another seat far from Mattsun or the other boys she was doing something. What she didn’t know was that the strawberry blonde was capable of making conversation with almost anyone. 

“From now on you’ll sit next to y/n.”  Your eyes widened and you gave her a pleading look. She glanced at you understandingly yet you could see her asking for your cooperation. Mattsun looked dramatically devastated as Hanamaki grabbed his stuff and switched places with the boy beside you. Iwaizumi and Tooru looked at each other. Things were either very convenient or about to go to hell. 

“Hello, partner.” He smiled at you while you merely gave him a look before turning your attention back to the lecture as the teacher took over where she had left. Hanamaki then attempted to start a conversation with the guys sitting behind you, yet they seemed a little apathetic. Turning to his side, his intentions were quickly discarded. No way in hell he was speaking to that Yui girl. So he propped his head in his hand as he tried to keep his attention on what the teacher was saying. 

After she gave the instructions for the day’s class work, you started to complete it diligently. By your side, Makki looked over at the board, then back to his notebook, turning his pencil on his hand and back again. To be honest, he had no clue about what he was supposed to do, yet he gave it a go. You threw glances now and then to your right, and seeing him erase something for nearly like the tenth time, you spoke, “Do you need help?” Iwaizumi perked up at the sound of your voice and nudged Oikawa, pointing towards you two. 

“Me? No. I’’m doing great. Easy.”  Oikawa smacked himself on the face. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, just… Peachy.” 

“Okay.” You went back to your notebook. Glancing around as lost as he was, he looked back again: notebook, board, you. 

He sighed, “Okay, I lied.” he admitted, “ I could use a little help.”  

You did the rest of the work together while you explained it to him. Makki swore no one had ever explained to him something as easy as you made it seem. Every day during that class you two worked seamlessly together, and needless to say everyone was surprised, and each time Hanamaki caught himself staring at you more. Noticing your small smiles, the small frown etched on your face as you focused, how you pushed your hair back from falling over your notebook until you gave up and tied it up in a messy bun instead, how you explained the things he didn’t understand. 

One day during practice, Mattsun caught him staring at you while you chatted with Oikawa sitting on the benches. The setter had sprained his ankle and was out until he recovered. They had a practice match soon, so his mood wasn’t the best, but you keeping him company kept his thoughts from spiraling. He laughed at something you said, making you smile. 

“You think Oikawa might like y/n?” Makki found himself asking as they practiced underhand passes. 

Hajime, who had paired with Kyōtani and was beside them, snorted, “He’s simping over his girlfriend so that’s out of the question.” 

“Didn’t they break up?” Mattsun asked. 

“Almost. They’ve been arguing a lot lately.” Iwaizumi clarified, then turned to Makki, “Why do you ask anyway?” 

“Unbelievable.” Matsukawa let the ball drop, “You like her.” 

“Doesn’t she hate him?” Kyōtani brought up and the trio stared at him. 

“Of course I don’t. That's ridiculous.” He brushed Matsukawa’s statement off as if it was the most absurd thing he’d ever heard. “And you,” he pointed at Kentarō, “are wrong. We hate each other.” 

“Oi! I’m still here and watching you all. Why are you stopping? Quit gossiping and get back to practice!” The captain yelled at them. “We have to crush Karasuno with or without me. But hopefully with me.”  You shook your head as he smiled, pleased with simply the idea. 

“Hate each other my ass.” Matsukawa called him out, “You’re always searching for her.” 

“That’s not true.” 

“So you fell for her but she hates you?” 

“Shut the fuck up, Kyōtani.” 

“What if I don’t?” 

“Well things have gotten better between you two but I can’t say from her part.” Iwaizumi thought. 

“Y/n/n,” Oikawa started, his demeanor changing all of a sudden, “Do you think I’m a shitty person?” 

“What? Of course not!” you laughed, yet you were confused, “What made you even think that?” 

“I don’t know.” He was looking down, fidgeting with his hands. Suddenly he resembled a little boy being lectured, “The way I act sometimes…” 

“That doesn’t make you a shitty person, Tōru. It just makes you a human being.” you smiled at him even though he wasn’t looking at you, “And I don’t think you really hate Tobio or Ushijima. You two just have this rivalry and it’s because you care so much for what you do. Well that’s how I see it. You’re great, don’t let anyone make you believe you aren’t.”

He nodded, finally turning to look at you with a smile. “Do you know I love you?”

“I love you too, stupid.” You laughed as he threw himself at you and kissed your cheek, “Be careful.” Then he laid his head on your lap and you brushed his hair as he looked up at you. “How’s stuff with Aoi?” His girlfriend that clearly disliked you.

He sighed, “We’re back talking but… She’s being distant.” He feared she might break up with him after all. “But let’s not talk about that.” 

“Then what?” you said expectantly. 

“How about you and Makki?” 

“What about him?” you looked over to the court and your eyes found him. 

“You don’t seem to hate him as much.” He chose his words carefully. 

“I don’t.” And that was what he called progress. “I still think he’s weird and a pain in the ass though.” But remember: don’t count your wins too soon.

“You’re not exactly the definition of normal.” you smacked him and he laughed. 

“Neither are you.”  

“Thanks.”  . . . “But do you find him attractive?” 

“What are you on now?” you said with a scandalous face that wasn’t not funny, but you were blushing. Oikawa took that as a yes.  

“Nothing. I was just asking.” 

“I don’t like him if that’s what you’re assuming. And I’m sure he doesn’t like me either.”  

“Want me to ask him?” 

“No. What for?”  

*

Next morning, you were a sight (not in a good way). Somehow, Hanamaki Takahiro had made his way into your dreams, startling you awake in the dead of the night. After that, you tossed and turned but weren’t able to go back to sleep. Finally, you had lost it, you thought. You blamed Oikawa’s absurd questions.

“Are you okay?” The brunette dared to ask when he saw you, “You look a little…” 

“You look terrible.” Hanamaki cut him off bluntly. You glared at both boys, and they backed off as you walked by over to your seat.  

Iwaizumi smacked both on the back of their heads, following you. “Way to go, idiots.” 

Needless to say, during class you were struggling to not doze off. After doing a pretty good job during morning periods, it was during your last class that you finally succumbed. Thankfully, since Iwaizumi was sitting in front of you, the teacher couldn’t notice from his spot in front of the class. 

Makki was sitting next to you too, and when he glanced your way he found you asleep. His gaze became softer seeing your relaxed features, your head lying on one of your arms folded on top of your desk. 

Later at home when you sat at your desk and took your things out of your bag to begin your study session, something slipped out from between your notebooks. Stranged, you picked it up, and saw the note stuck to the papers. “Notes from litt. class. Get some proper rest later. No use messing with someone who can’t talk back.” - Hanamaki 

You read the words over and over, and you couldn’t help but smile a bit. 

*

“It’s weird, y/n’s still not here.” Iwaizumi mentioned. The day of the practice match had come, and you were always there early to wish them good luck before you went to find a seat at the stands.

“There’s still a few minutes.” Mattsun allowed. “Makki’s not even here yet.” 

Aoi had come to see Oikawa and he’d gone out of the locker room for a moment to meet her before the match, otherwise he would be complaining about your unusual tardiness. He certainly would later. 

You were hurrying towards the gym at the same time the other team arrived and was about to go inside, getting the attention of some of them. “Look, it seems like Seijoh got a cute manager too since the last time we met.” 

You were wearing your PE tracksuit pants with the school t-shirt so thinking back you should’ve known that was what caused the misunderstanding. A dark haired boy you recognized as the libero stood in front of you. 

“Hey there, Miss manager.” He gave you a smile. 

“Hello,” you started politely yet the look in your eyes showed you were confused, “Manager? I’m sorry I’m not-” 

“What’s your name?” He barely let you get a word in. The captain was about to interfere, knowing where things were going but Sugawara stopped him. 

“I’m Y/n. But I’m not-” 

“Are you going out with someone?”  

You shook your head, “I-” 

“Sorry, man, she has a boyfriend.” your eyes went wide, as you heard none other than Makki - who was late- speak up. Standing now behind you, he leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek, leaving your cheeks burning, “You okay, love?”  Love?  Then he looked over at the boys seriously. 

Sugawara snorted. 

“Boyfriend?!” You two bursted into the locker room. “What the hell was that?!”

“Well, it worked. None of them will bother you now.” He seemed amused rather than bothered by what he just did unlike before when he saw that guy flirting with you, although he was blushing too now that you came into the room with some of the boys still inside shouting about what happened. Being a sweetheart, as always, he thought. 

“You do tell, please.” Matsukawa smirked, “What are you two lovers quarrelling about now?”  

“Your friend just told the whole Karasuno team we’re a couple.” 

“What the hell made you do that?” Iwaizumi asked before he started laughing. His friend was an idiot.

“Same thing I’m asking.” 

“Some guy was bothering her so I told them we’re together to get him and anyone else off her.”  which Mattsun translated as I was jealous in his head as he looked at him biting his tongue to not call him out on his bullshit. 

“They found out before me?!” Oikawa screamed by the door, entering the room. 

“It’s not true!” 

“Not yet.” Mattsun muttered to himself, “But you’ll have to play along, right? Otherwise they’ll think you’re both liars.” Speaking up as a proper best friend and wing man. 

“What?” you looked at him, then towards the strawberry blonde, “It’s not like they’ll be paying me much attention.” 

“But my girlfriend should cheer for me.” He shrugged his shirt off and you looked away, flustered,  while he put on his uniform. Then he grabbed the extra one he had and threw it your way.  His club shirt. With his name, and the number three stamped on both sides. 

“How are you so calm about this?” You stared at the piece of fabric, then nervously up at him. “Everyone at school will think we’re together. Are you really okay with that?” 

“I don’t care what they think. Do you?”

A/N: Another example of terrible fic names for you! First time writing for my Seijoh boys. Oh I love them so much and hope you like the interactions between them and with y/n. Was going through Makki brainrot again back in December but also had to show some love to my Oiks <3. Also this had like 5 extra pages on my docs. buuut I wasn't entirely sure with how it was going and I still don't get a good scene to end this story lol. Until next time! -Youmarin

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[splitontendo]

pairing: takahiro hanamaki x f!reader

synopsis: having no money and the worst job leads you to dark places, answering a strangers roommate ad. leading you to meet the roommate from hell, who happens to have the solution to your problems and isn’t too bad at giving head.

10 | the baffoon

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fun facts!

you don’t know makki got fired-

semis being petty cause u ignored him but he hasn’t tried reaching out again since last chapter :/

cora followed makki’s main </3

you would’ve technically still gotten free laundry beforehand too 🤭