Rabid.

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。HANDS — ITOSHI SAE.

sae doesn’t understand the purpose of holding hands. it’s a bit annoying to try and move around while you’re practically chained to someone else, it feels a bit odd to have someone’s hand lace with yours and keep it occupied, and it just draws this unwarranted attention that he doesn’t like.

he doesn’t hold hands, and you don’t seem to mind, so it’s never really been a concern of his.

not until today at least.

“are you nervous?” you ask, standing next to him as you stare out at the field. it’s a large stadium—there’s a bigger audience here than you’ve ever seen at any of the last few games you’ve been to.

it makes sense, you suppose. you’ve really only been to a handful of sae’s games—and even if you haven’t dated long, you’re well accustomed now to the occasional mic in your face as they as you how you feel about your boyfriend’s win. but now that he officially doesn’t play for a youth team anymore, now that he’s in the big shots with the adults, there’s bound to be more people, right? it makes you a bit nervous, all the eyes on you, but it doesn’t keep you from standing next to him as he waits with his team just minutes before starting the game.

sae only raises a brow at you, looks at you like you’ve grown two heads, “what do you take me for? they’re lucky to even play against me,” he mutters.

from a distance, you can hear a few amused chuckles and a few scoffs of disbelief from his older teammates. for the youngest on the team, sae has the largest presence. he’s already the talk of the hour—you can hear reporters buzzing for an interview and fans chanting his name already.

but he’s unbothered, sipping on his water bottle like it’s child’s play he’s preparing for.

“i know, baby,” you mumble, “you’ll crush them but…there’s just so many people,” you mumble. “what if you trip and fall? that’ll be so many people seeing.”

“i’m not gonna trip and fall,” he grumbles, lips twitching into a small frown that’s almost—almost—a pout, like the fact that you think he’d do something like that is an insult to his pride.

“oh my gosh,” you gasp, “i think someone just took a picture of us,” you ramble, not even paying attention to him. “what if i looked ugly?”

he wants to tell you there are a lot of people taking pictures, and that it’s a dumb thing to say—since when have you ever looked ugly? even your bad angles are better than the average person’s best, but before he can even say anything, your hand tightly grasps his.

he looks down, furrows his brows, opens his mouth to say something when you cut in.

“don’t be nervous, sae,” you babble away, “you got this, okay? there’s not even that many people here, they look like ants from down here anyway. you won’t even notice them.”

and then your hand squeezes his tightly, like it’s for reassurance, like it’s to tell him it’s okay, i’m here. except, he’s sure you’re doing it more for yourself than him—since he’s quite literally fine, quite literally standing here with as bored of an expression as always.

“i’m not nervous, idiot,” he mumbles.

and sae doesn’t like holding hands. your hands are a bit clammy and cold and they’re squeezing a bit too tight for his liking and he can’t move around as freely now. but your thumb is rubbing circles into the back of his hand and…it’s nice. for some reason, it’s kind of nice and he likes it.

he gives your hand an experimental squeeze, and when you squeeze right back, he finds that oddly enough, it’s kind of comforting to be able to communicate with you like this without actually saying words.

it’s okay. i’m here. you’ve got this. i’m not going anywhere. i’m proud of you. you’re all i need. you make me happiest. did you see that? i think that was another camera flash. i’m scared. i believe in you. it’s almost time for you to go. play your best. i love you.

i love you. i love you. i love you.

every tightening of your hand and every small squeeze tells him something that he finds he can understand for some reason—even without words. even without looking at your eyes or your face or seeing your expression. it’s so simple—so easy and…and he likes it.

why does he like it?

“good luck, baby,” you whisper, turning to face him, giving him a look that’s so nervous, yet so filled with conviction, he almost feels that to not play better than his best is of a disservice to you.

“thanks,” he murmurs, tugging you a bit closer by your hand. he finds that’s also a nice added perk of holding your hand—being able to pull your body impossibly closer whenever he wants. “but i won’t need it.”

“no,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “because you’re mister itoshi-sae-the-best-ever-who-never-gets-nervous. my bad.”

he huffs a small chuckle, gives your hand a squeeze and lets out a small sigh of content when he realizes the circles you’re rubbing over his knuckles have turned into hearts.

“don’t be nervous,” he says quietly, “‘s just us. everyone else’s background noise.”

“i know, but—”

“and don’t answer any reporters till i come back, okay? don’t need you having a breakdown on national television.”

“sae!” you whine, “that doesn’t help.”

“see you after my win,” he grins ever so slightly. it’s the biggest smile any of his teammates have ever seen from him—a few of them even gape in shock, but he pays no mind. he contemplates for a small moment before he decides—brings up your laced fingers and presses a small, short kiss to the back of your hand.

“see you after your win,” you agree, giving one more squeeze to his hand.

i love you.

he squeezes back. i love you too.

and then he’s off, and he almost hesitates before he lets his hand leave your grasp while he runs onto the field. he glances back at you, sees the way your hands are clutched tightly together to your chest as you stare at him with hope in your eyes and awe in your expression.

itoshi sae has never liked holding hands—but then your hands hold out his entire universe, and how could he not change his mind?

hi everyone. pls take this very self indulgent and very me coded reader as they overthink sae’s entire game more than he even thinks about it 💀

Fly on the Wall

PAIRING: yan!timeskip!Sakusa Kiyoomi x fem!reader

GENRE: smut | dark content (18+)

Minors DNI

TAGS + WARNINGS: yandere themes, noncon, stalking, somnophilia, semi-public masturbation (m), nipple play, fingering (with leather gloves), dacryphilia, cum eating, creampie, size kink, breaking and entering, panty stealing, basically Sakusa is a perv

Let me know if I missed anything.

WORD COUNT: 8.7k

SUMMARY: The new Black Jackal’s manager catches Sakusa’s eye. Unfortunately, whatever distance, physical or otherwise, is between you two, is too far for his liking. All characters are 18+

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Not meant to be a Christmas gift, but my timing does wonders, I guess :/

© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

The Black Jackals getting a manager didn’t excite him the way it did his teammates. The idea itself didn’t bring him dread, of course, but the knowledge that certain players may get distracted–or worse: rowdier–brought more stress to him than he’d appreciate. 

Bokuto and Hinata were already babbling on to each other about what you might be like, reminiscing their high school days when they both had two managers on their respective teams. Atsumu joined in, whining that Inarizaki wasn’t as lucky to have a girl manager, let alone two attractive ones. He also bet that you’d be cute—Sakusa could only roll his eyes at the exchange.

Keep reading

WE'RE ABOUT TO WITNESS THIS!!!!!

Hey love, I’d like to request a prompt #10 with either tsukishima or sakusa if that’s alright

hello, love! yes ofc it’s alright! i’ve chosen sakusa, hope that’s okay?

prompt 10: “tell me i’m wrong.” “i want to.”

warnings: angst babyy (haha i wrote this at 3 am last night and it made me sad. so very sad.)

The worst part about falling in love with someone, is that one day, one of you may fall out of love.

Your biggest fear was that one day, all your habits, your flaws, your unconscious actions, the very reasons someone fell in love with you, would be the reason that they fall out of love with you.

You could tell that Sakusa no longer loved you the way he once claimed to when he didn’t laugh at your corny jokes anymore, or when he started becoming more serious when he was at home.

You knew that Sakusa fell out of love with you when he looked at you and you felt ugly. He no longer looked at you like you had hung the stars in the sky.

So as you stood before him, hands clenched together and tears rolling down your cheeks, you confronted him. You never truly know distance and loneliness until you share a bed with someone who doesn’t love you anymore.

“You don’t love me anymore.”

It was a statement. A realization. A heart breaking truth.

Sakusa stood in front of you. His long arms awkwardly limp beside him. His black wavy hair seemed to understand the situation better than he did, as it was flatter and droopy.

Sakusa could see that you were in pain. Years together had made him fluent in your emotions and indicators. He wanted to feel bad, but instead, Sakusa felt... nothing. He didn’t feel love for you, nor hate, nor anger, not even sadness.

One day, he had woken up and just didn’t feel... anything. It was like his heart had found sanctuary in oblivion, and he no longer cared. He didn’t think of you, didn’t care for you, he didn’t feel for you.

“Tell me I’m wrong, Kiyoomi.”

Sakusa shut his eyes. This was painful for you, he knew it, and deep down, he was sure it was painful for him too. There had been a time where Sakusa loved you, he had loved you so much that the stars and the moon had sung for you.

“I want to, y/n.”

Your breath hitched, and you stared at him. This was the man that had fought his insecurities just to ask you out. This was the man who once yearned for your touch after he avoided everyone else. This was the man who promised you the moon, even when you told him you were fine with a star.

This was the man you had promised to love.

And you did. You loved Sakusa, even now, but he didn’t love you. Now, it was your insecurities he got tired of fighting. It was your touch he began to avoid. It was your fault he would never look at the moon again.

You wiped your tears and cleared your throat. There was no point in crying, not in front of Sakusa at least. You looked at your left hand, hating the ring that sat on your finger. With shaking fingers, you slipped the ring off your finger, holding it tight in your palm.

“Is there another?” You had to ask. You wouldn’t have been able to live with yourself if you hadn’t asked. Immediately, Sakusa shook his head.

“No, no,” Sakusa’s quiet voice came out, “it’s not like that. I did love you, y/n, and then one day I woke up and I just...”

You didn’t know that your heart could hurt anymore than it already did, but you were wrong. It hurt, god it hurt so much.

“I just didn’t.”

You nodded, pretending like you understood. You did, in a way. No one was obligated to love you forever. You only wish he had.

You walked up to him and dropped the ring into his palm. Your eyes met his black ones one last time and if you cared about yourself, you wouldn’t have done it. You wouldn’t have pressed your lips gently against his. But you did. The kiss was short, it was a goodbye, and it was the last piece of comfort you needed.

And when there was nothing but coldness, you quietly pulled away, and walked past him.

The worst part about falling in love with someone, is that one day, one of you may fall out of love. And the person who falls out of love gets to walk away. They get to wake up the next day feeling nothing, while the one who is still in love, wakes up the next day and wonders if they could’ve done something different.

sakusa i can’t believe you’ve done this.

taglist: @h-grangerstudies @elektrosonix @snoozless @iwasumi @ackerpotato @asterroidd @rinrinniesstuff @bokuatsubro @literaleftist @howcanyoubreathewithnozaire @addicedtoeverythinganime @felixsamour @megumeee @oracleofdin @aghashiii @fail-big

requests are closed.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁ “MY BOYFRIEND IS GONNA KICK YOUR ASS !”

WINDBREAKER BOYS PROTECTING YOU FROM PERVS. ft. kaji ren, togame jo, umemiya hajime, sakura haruka, hayato suo, toma hiragi, kiryuu mitsuki, & kyotaro sugishita x f!reader

sfw. wc: 2.6K. oh how i’ve been wanting to write this since i finished the manga! but individual warnings are below <3

KAJI REN.

referred to as she/her, ‘my girl,’ comments about your outfit

“my boyfriend’s real scary y’know,” your voice falters a bit as you take another step back, hands coming up defensively. “and he’ll be here any moment.”

it’s a lie that you hope sounds convincing— because kaji coming to save you today may be nothing more than a desperate wish of yours. how would he even find you in a place like this? you’re not sure exactly how much time has past by since you’ve started running, but you’re certain that by now, you and kaji should have already been inside the bakery, finally getting to taste test the new fruit pastries you’d been dying to get your hands on.

it started off as just a loud whistle your direction, then led to an uncomfortable conversation about how you’re not interested— and that you have a boyfriend. one thing led to another, and somehow you’ve ended up here, out of breath from speed walking and completely lost— and to top it off, the only person near you is the one you’ve been running so desperately from.

you wish kaji was here already.

"oh yeah?" the man in front of you takes a step towards you, lips contorting into a sick grin when he sees your hands trembling, "i don't see him."

your lips tremble a bit when he reaches you, towering over you with ease. “don’t you dare touch me,” you warn, “my boyfriend will beat your a—” you yelp as you’re suddenly pulled to the side, stumbling into someone’s chest as they pull you flush against their chest.

the familiar scent of candy melts away your fear in a split second.

"kaji!"

you can tell when you glance at him just once that he isn’t happy. his forehead is damp with sweat, and he looks disheveled, chest rising up and down with labored breaths— he must have been running around trying to find you this entire time.

your boyfriend clicks his tongue in annoyance, eyes narrowing as he sizes up the man in front of him. “problem?”

he rips off his headphones, letting them hang around his neck as the man feigns an apology, unapologetic eyes looming over your figure again seconds later. “but y’know man, you should be keeping a closer eye on your girl,” he points to you with a smug smile, “she was practically begging for me to say something with the way she’s dressed.”

“i wasn’t!” you protest, face burning as you tug on ren’s coat. you thought your outfit was cute— and definitely not anything crazy— you double checked. you really did. but he’s pointing at you now, rambling on about how you wanted this— and you can’t help the way tears start to blur your vision.

"huh?" kaji snarls, head tilting to leer at the man. the arm around your waist pulls you tighter against his chest, and you hear the angry thumping of his heart. "what'd you say?"

“okay, okay, i’m leaving now,” the man chuckles in defeat, “i was just joking. wasn’t gonna actually do something to your girl,” he waves him off. “you should lighten up—”

he chokes when kaji grabs a fistful of his shirt, pulling him off balance before knocking him backwards, your pursuer falling roughly onto the floor as he winces in pain. “then get outta here already,” kaji glares, a stark contrast to the gentle way his hand is pressing against your lower back to guide you away.

“and don’t let me catch you looking at my girl again.”

TOGAME JO.

referred to as she/her, ‘my girl,’ you wear his jacket

togame gives you a sleepy smile as he watches you from miniso’s entrance, excitedly sorting through the newly restocked blind boxes. he was resting his back against the wall behind him when he caught his first glimpse of that guy.

he’s wearing a dark hoodie, head turning back to shamelessly stare your direction as he passes by slowly. it’s enough to get togame back up on his feet immediately, quickly heading your way just as the man reaches to get a feel of your thighs—

“how shameless,” togame laughs, big hand squeezing painfully into his wrist. “tryna bother my girl?”

in any other situation, togame would chuckle at your obliviousness, your headphones cancelling out any noise as your eye catches the cinnamoroll section, letting out an excited gasp as you head that way. you really had no idea.

“m-my bad man,” he stutters, ripping his arm from togame’s grasp, “just thought she was my sister— was just gonna tap on her back to grab her attention.”

togame raises an eyebrow at the lazy excuse, leaning down until the man takes a nervous step back, eyes darting to the side to avoid togame’s glare. “sister? that’s my shishitoren jacket she has on, no?”

the man feels heavy beads of sweat roll down his face when togame’s hands curl into clenched fists. “you mean to tell me your lil sis is from shishitoren?”

“i said it was my bad,” he repeats, chuckling nervously. “it won’t happen again okay? i won’t bother her again.”

togame’s hands return to his pockets. “won’t let you off so easy next time,” his voice is low as he steps aside to let him off, “so you’d better keep your distance.”

UMEMIYA HAJIME.

referred to as she/her, ‘your girl’

umemiya instinctively perks up when he hears two voices behind him, momentarily tuning out your gushing about how cute the little plant kits at barnes and noble are.

"….she's probably taken."

"is that her boyfriend behind her? think she's talking to him."

there's a chuckle between them. "doesn't matter. go tell her what you just said to me when she's alone."

"what," the man laughs, "ask her if i can grab a handful of that ass?"

more laughter.

umemiya’s jaw clenches, eyes darting back at you in a flash, and he’s relieved when he sees you’re still gushing about the flower kits— completely oblivious to the two men just beyond this aisle. he’s by your side in an instant, arms wrapping around your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“oh,” you turn to press a quick kiss against his temple, smiling when he melts into your touch. “hi, ume. did you find a book?”

"nothing here," he sighs dramatically, his embrace around your middle tightening just enough for you to barely notice, “but we can grab some of those flower kits.”

"really?"

“of course—”

“hey,” a familiar voice interrupts him with a stifled laugh, followed by a tap on his shoulder. with the roughness, it’s more like a jab— but he lets that slide.

“ah— your friend, ume,” your voice comes off as a mix between a question and a statement.

“hey, my friend has something to ask your girl.”

ume’s jaw clenches again, and your eyes widen a bit at the sudden change in the atmosphere. the first friend’s hand is swat off of ume’s shoulder in a split second, ume straightening back up to look back at them.

their first thought is that he’s a lot taller than they had pictured. a lot more muscular too— and they take note of the way his muscles bulge against the fabric of his shirt. “what, you have business with her?”

they flinch at the tone.

“ah— sorry,” the second friend stutters, “we got the wrong person.”

SAKURA HARUKA.

“ah— what happened?” your hands delicately cup sakura’s face, ignoring the way his cheeks instantly turn into a deep shade of scarlet. “n-nothing happened!” he weakly swats at your hand, a futile attempt to dissipate the heat spreading through the tips of his ears.

“i was only in the bathroom for five minutes,” you laugh, “how’d you manage to get into a fight so fast?”

he stiffens when your arms come to wrap around his bicep, resuming your ramble about some recipe you wanted to try tonight. macarons…or something. he doesn’t pay much attention, because he knows whatever you end up making will be good anyway.

“—are you listening, sakura?”

the clueless look he gives you confirms it. “so you weren’t. i had a feeling— but it’s okay,” you giggle. “but you didn’t answer my question from earlier either. how’d you get into a fight?”

his eyebrows furrow deeply as he decides whether or not he should tell you. “they were….” he clicks his tongue angrily, “they were talking about you when you walked by.”

you can feel his muscles tense as he deepens his scowl, still trying to fight off the blush plastered across his face, “i just gave ‘em what they deserved.”

HAYATO SUO.

referred to as she/her, mentions of how you’re dressed

"what a bitch. she was totally asking for it.”

"i know— dressed like a whore."

suo stands up from the bench outside your local convenience store, hands dusting off the dirt on his pants. you had asked him to wait outside earlier because 'you wanted to grab him a super yummy snack that he will definitely love!'

he had a feeling the two dirty men who entered the store minutes later were bad news, so he was already on high alert before listening in.

"that whore— you mean my girlfriend?" suo's voice comes out calm, a stark contrast to the sickening anger and pressure he feels building up inside his chest.

"huh—oh. yeah," one of them chuckles, jutting their thumb at the entrance, "that bitch inside your girl? you let her prance around with her tits hanging out for everyone to see?"

he's calm and composed as they size him up, their chins tilting up to look down at him. "she's pretty, isn't she?" and suo fails to stifle the chuckle that escapes his lips, "did she reject you too harshly for your liking?"

one of them balls his fists, muttering profanities under his breath as he leans closer to him. "now how'd you know that? you should really teach that bitch some fucking manners," he reaches forward to grab suo by the collar, eyes blinking in confusion when he finds himself spun behind suo seconds later, feet struggling to find their balance.

“—the fuck did you do?”

"it's a bad habit of hers," suo continues, "i understand it though, not wanting to be around a pathetic thing like you," the edges of his lips tug into a faint smile.

the other man's eyebrows twitch, spitting empty threats as he he throws a wide swing, only to find himself reduced to his knees seconds later. "t-the fuck..." he grumbles to himself— he could have sworn he could practically see his fist connect. what happened?

"you'd be better off looking for someone to protect yourself the way i do for her," his tone is mocking as he heads towards the store's entrance, "and— it'd be really unfortunate if i see something like this happen again."

TOMA HIRAGI.

"h-hiragi? what are you doing?"

your lips are pressed in a nervous line as your hands come to shyly rest on his chest, sucking in a breath when his arms come to roughly cage you against the train's walls, strong body towering just over yours.

“do you…need more space?” you mumble, heart racing at the proximity. you can smell his cologne so well at this distance.

hiragi simply shakes his head, distracted gaze shifting between you and something behind him every few seconds. "it’s okay."

he swears his stomach isn't churning like this without good reason. it’s not just a coincidence that the same person who he had noticed eyeing you at the boba shop had gotten onto the same train. he could let it go at that, but the same man had been slowly worming his way through the crowd to get closer to the two of you. and while he’s not certain, he thought he saw the man take out his phone and try and angle it beneath you, but not before jolting and dropping his phone onto the floor when hiragi's hands abruptly slammed against the wall beside you.

the train suddenly rocks, sliding his phone to the other side of the train, and you’re knocked off balance, face slamming against hiragi's chest. "s-sorry!"

“it’s okay,” he smiles, hand coming to cradle the back of your head and pull you closer, “you okay?”

"i'm okay..." you mumble, rubbing the bridge of your nose, "your chest is hard.”

he responds with a light chuckle. it’ll be okay like this, he thinks. he’ll protect you with his body for now, and figure out what to do with that guy later.

KIRYUU MITSUKI.

‘pretty thing’

"it's no wonder she doesn't like you," kiryuu sighs, "you're gross."

your mouth is ajar as you stare at the state of the man who was harassing you only moments ago, his unconscious body resting neatly against the wall after kiryuu had dragged him there.

"sorry you had to watch that, pretty thing," his hand comes to gently interlace with yours, "but he didn't leave me with much of a choice, did he?"

"it's okay," you whisper, "that was so cool of you."

his eyes widen a bit before his lips curl into a small smile. "you think so?"

"mhm. i don't know what would've happened to me if you were there..." your voice trails off a bit.

you really don't know what would have happened, because it's not like you know how to fight or anything. getting hit on is enough to make you nervous, so a pushy guy like that was too much— you froze up as soon as he started spitting threats after you expressed your disinterest.

there's a light squeeze around your hands, and you're reminded of this gentle warmth that kiryuu always brings with him. "don't worry about it," he says with a small smile, "i'll just need to accompany you more often when you go out. it’s no problem.”

KYOTARO SUGISHITA.

“you’re like a bodyguard, kyo.”

you giggle at the huff beside you. “how’d you even react that fast?”

it all happened within a second. you were walking beside him, stopped for a brief second to bend down and peer at the plushies lining the shop window, not noticing the man approaching you— his grimy fingers coming to take a peek under your skirt. before you had even registered the feeling of the cloth moving, there was a loud crack, and the man was on the floor, groaning with his hands covering his bloodied face and a very angry sugishita on top of him.

“he made me angry.”

of course he would be. and if you weren’t with your boyfriend, it would be a different story. you’d bring along your assortment of self defense items, ranging from pepper sprays to taser lipsticks— and you’d be a thousand times more cautious, paying extra close attention to everything around you.

with sugishita, however, it’s different. you think of it as being able to turn off your brain… or something like that. whatever lets you truly relax and enjoy your time with him, and it’s always okay because your boyfriend is there to protect you. “well, don’t be so mad, cutie,” you muse, your fingers reaching to interlace with his as he tenses at the nickname.

“everything is okay— i’m okay. i’ll get us smoothies to help lighten the mood.”

he lets you drag him to your favorite smoothie shop in silence— still fuming about the incident. he wonders why you’re not shaken up. if he had been one second later, that piece of shit would have lifted up your skirt. in public. his jaw clenches at the thought, angry eyes darting at any anyone who dares look your direction.

“why’re…” his voice trails off, remembering what ume said about toning down his choice of words around others, “…why’re you so happy?”

“hmm? i’m not too worried,” you chuckle, “you’re my bodyguard right? nothing will happen if you’re here.”

note: wanted to add endo & some others but hit the 10 photo limit, so pls let me know in a reblog / ask if you’d be interested in a pt 2 <3

Set My Heart Ablaze

Pairing: Matsukawa x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Non-Con/Dub-Con, Creepy Matsukawa, Obsessive Behavior, Public Train Sex

Prompt: Chikan/Trains/Public Sex

Summary: Neither of you can deny the mutual spark of interest between the two of you, but Matsukawa takes the matter of turning that spark into a fire into his own hands. Only time will tell if that fire will provide you warmth and comfort or burn you alive.

A/N: This is my submission for the HQHQ NSFW Collab! Masterlist can be found here. Be sure to check everyone’s content once the masterlist goes live tomorrow night~

The train doors open and Matsukawa briefly glances up, smiling to himself as you step onboard, looking left and right for an open spot despite how you always end up in the same corner of the moving vehicle. He doesn’t know anything about you, not even your name. Yet he finds himself drawn to the normalcy you bring, the comfort of knowing you’re a clockwork fixture of his everyday life.

It hadn’t always been like this.

Matsukawa is just a man at the end of the day and he doesn’t deny that he took note of you long before you became so ingrained in his life. But it had been no more than a man observing an attractive woman and he doesn’t give you another passing thought as he returns to gazing out the train windows.

But working with death on a daily basis makes you look at life differently.

He prides himself on being a practical and level-headed man and despite the heavy nature of his profession, he never thought he’d get too bogged down by the environment, by the grimness of his business. Sure, maybe someone like Oikawa would freak out within hours, if not minutes, of being in a funeral home surrounded by corpses and coffins. But he’s not Oikawa (thank God for that). It’s just a job to help keep a roof over his head and food on the table.

But the longer he’s surrounded by caskets, the more grieving and sobbing families and friends he has to comfort yet professionally guide through catalogs and brochures and price tags, he can slowly but surely feel the weight of his daily work resting heavy on his shoulders, digging deeper into him with every corpse and tragic story he reluctantly becomes privy to. Matsukawa finds a new appreciation for life, for every tiny and minute detail, and suddenly you aren’t just another stranger who happens to share his train route.

You’re a reminder that he’s still alive, that despite the curveballs life throws at some, he’s still blessed to enjoy the routine and monotony of it. Life looks different, clearer, as he begins to really pay attention, appreciating every moment he has.

Maybe he’s paying too much attention. He doesn’t know when he begins to focus so intently on you, shocking himself with the realization that he’s observed you so closely when he nonchalantly notices that you’re using a different tote bag than your usual one. When did Matsukawa Issei become someone who notices the details of a woman’s outfit and accessories?

He knows it’s not right, knows even Hanamaki would crinkle his nose in distaste if he found out Matsukawa was creepily studying a random unknown female on a daily basis. But he can’t help himself, his realization only seeming to make him unconsciously focus on you even more. He notices what hand you use to hold your phone. He memorizes every expression you make as your mind drifts off, lulled by the machinery of the train.

But looking from afar only satisfies him for so long and he finds himself creeping closer to you, adjusting where he sits to be closer to your preferred corner of the train. He always tells himself just a little closer, but it’s never enough. And although he’s now standing right beside you, close enough to see every eyelash, every pore of your skin, it’s still not enough. He needs to hear your voice, feel your body against his, know everything about you inside and out.

He understands the irony of the situation he’s found himself in, reminiscing on how Hanamaki and him had gagged at how disgusting men could be as they watched older businessmen grope and grab at poor unwilling female passengers on their way to and from school. He knows how wrong it is, how like an uninspired porno this is, but when the train conveniently rattles, he jostles his body into yours, “accidentally” bumping into you.

Acting isn’t Matsukawa’s forte, but he thinks he damn well deserves an award for the performance he’s putting on as he profusely apologizes to you, hiding the groan of satisfaction he feels from the brief contact he’d had with you, from the way your attention is solely focused on him, from the way your voice seeps into his ears like the loveliest melody he’s ever heard. He doesn’t even know what he’s saying, meaningless small and polite talk leaving his lips as his mind focuses on what’s more important, mentally recording every syllable and movement you make as you continue conversing with him. But whatever words are spilling out of him seem to be working and something hungry and possessive stirs in him when your face lights up as you board the train the next day, making a beeline towards where he stands as you cheerfully greet him.

Maybe it’s foolish of you to so easily trust and warm up to a complete stranger. But he’s tall, attractive, and interesting, which is more than you can say for most of the men you’ve met and your friends and family are always telling you to put yourself out there more. Is there really much of a difference between finding a random stranger on the countless dating apps you’ve installed versus connecting with one in person? You’d even argue that there’s something whimsically romantic about how the two of you met, even though you don’t know for sure if this is really going to lead to anything. But at the very least, your daily commute becomes more exciting.

You’re everything and more compared to what Matsukawa had imagined and if he thought he was infatuated with you before, he’s completely and utterly obsessed with you now. You’re all he can think of, all he can see in his mind’s eye, even hours after you’ve parted ways on your morning commute, even as he lays in bed in the middle of the night. And as his hand slips underneath the hem of his boxers, wrapping around his aching cock to his imaginations of what you’d look like writhing underneath him, how you’d sound moaning his name, he knows he needs to have you.

After all, as pretty as a meal can be, it’s ultimate purpose is to be devoured.

You giggle when the train shakes and you feel a long toned body shift into yours, squishing you against the wall you’re leaning against, sighing in bliss at how right, how good it feels to be in Matsukawa’s embrace even if it is just for a fleeting moment, a little accident all too common on jam packed trains. But your face heats when you continue feeling his warmth, when his body seems to press even further into you until you can feel the expanse of his body against yours, not even an inch of space left between you.

“Matsukawa-”

Your words are caught off by a gasp as Matsukawa buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, lips and tongue mouthing and licking the sensitive skin there. You’re confused, scared, and aroused, hands reaching up to clutch at the lapels of Matsukawa’s suit, unsure whether to hold him tight to you or push him away. And your humiliation only increases when a nearby elderly couple scowls at the two of you in disdain, clearly unamused by the scandalous gestures of what they believe to be a young couple in love.

Yet you can’t help how your heart beats faster, wondering if this is proof of Matsukawa’s attraction to you, wondering if your hidden feelings for him are returned. But this isn’t the time or place for that conversation and you fervently whisper in his ear, begging him to stop, telling him people are watching.

“Is that the only reason you want me to stop? Because people are watching?”

You grow flustered at the implied meaning of his words, shame filling you at how much you’re enjoying this, hating how your neck arches for more attention as he straightens up once more, his body hiding yours from view as he stands in front of you, still pinning you to the wall.

“Better be as still and quiet as you can, sweetheart.”

You don’t have time to register his words before your mouth opens in a pathetic whine as a calloused hand trails under the hem of your shirt, sliding across the stretch of your stomach, mapping your torso before finally shoving your bra above the swell of your breasts, kneading one of your mounds, tweaking and swirling around your hardening nipple. It feels so good and you almost succumb right then and there, lost in the predatory lustful gaze he pins you with.

But when the train makes its next stop, the conductor’s voice jars you from your trance and you clutch at Matsukawa’s forearm, silently pleading for him to stop with desperate eyes despite the way you quietly mewl when he just quirks an eyebrow and pinches your nipple in retaliation.

“We can’t- We shouldn’t-”

Your hand trembles, jaw going slack when he slides one thigh between your legs, digging his hard muscles into that already dripping hole only protected by the fabric of your pants.

“You’re not very convincing. How about we play a game? If you can tell me you don’t want this without moaning like a bitch in heat, I’ll stop.”

There’s no room for disagreement as he abruptly begins grinding his thigh into your aching cunt, flexing and relaxing his muscle in a pattern and rhythm you can’t keep up with. It takes every last bit of will power in you to not wantonly ride his leg and hump against him like the lewd slut he had just accused you of being.

“I don’t want-”

You cry out in agonized pleasure as his fingers still hovering near your breasts begin to roll your nipples between calloused tips, his thigh never losing its momentum. And under the dual points of attack, your resistance crumbles. Matsukawa’s eyes widen in awe as you bounce and roll your hips against his leg, hiding your face in his chest as you try to muffle the lewd sounds slipping past your lips in the fabric of his jacket.

You’re gorgeous like this, a needy, lustful mess. But as much as he loves to see you suffer so beautifully, there’s only so much time before your stop and he decides to have mercy on you, to reward you for being so honest, so good for him. Your face snaps up to stare at him with pupils blown wide as his hand reaches underneath the waistband of your pants and panties. He groans when his fingers are instantly soaked in your arousal, your panties sticky with your fluids and his digits slip inside of your tight wet heat with no resistance at all.

He wants nothing more than to push the pesky fabric out of the way and lay you bare for his viewing pleasure, to have easy access to thrust in and out of you. But he’ll save that for another day. Instead his fingers slip out of you, tips circling your swollen clit, rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves as you resume humping his leg, body trembling, drool beginning to trickle from your lips as you frantically chase your end. And as the train stops once more, passengers trickling in and out, you silently scream, body convulsing as he brings you over the edge, pleasure washing over you and leaving you exhausted as you shiver and slump in his arms that are quick to embrace you and hold you steady as the train begins to move again.

You submissively let his fingers coated in your essence enter your mouth, obediently sucking and licking him clean, finding strange comfort in the action as you remain rested against him. But you keen in confusion, cheeks still hollowed as you mindlessly continue sucking while he guides one of your hands to the bulge in his pants.

But although Matsukawa is a man of few words, his desire is clear despite the silence and your face heats in embarrassment as he unbuttons his trousers, bringing your hand to the waistband of his boxers, dark eyes expectantly staring down at you. You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. Not when you can literally hear the other passengers surrounding the two of you, only Matsukawa’s tall frame hiding your illicit activity. But your body has a mind of its own and you greedily slip under the fabric barrier, moaning around his fingers at how large, hot, and heavy he is in your hands.

You hate how badly you want to see it, to feel it inside you, splitting you apart. Your pussy clenches, leaking in interest once again despite having just found blissful release mere minutes ago as your hands curiously trail up and down the shaft, trying to memorize how every bit of it feels against your skin, trying to visualize what it looks like. But you whimper as Matsukawa finally pulls his fingers free from your mouth, squeezing your jaw and giving you a warning look.

“Don’t tease me, doll.”

Your fingers wrap around the length and it’s your turn to stare up at Matsukawa with eyes full of hunger and awe as you watch his Adam’s apple swallow, as you feel a pleased groan reverberate in his chest with every stroke of your hand. Up and down. Up and down. Your hands are slick with pre-cum and you know it’s just your imagination, but you swear you can hear the lewd wet sounds of his sticky essence coating his shaft with every movement of your palm against the velvety skin. You’re so mesmerized, so lost in the experience that you startle when something hot and thick spurts onto your hand, mixing with his pre-cum, making an even bigger mess of his boxers and you.

You stare stunned at the hand you pull out from between his legs, gazing at the white and transparent fluids that coat your flesh. But before you can even think about wiping it off or scavenging around for a spare napkin or paper in your bag, a large hand grabs your wrist and brings your stained fingers to your mouth. You try to resist him, the spell he had you under broken now that the haze of lust isn’t blinding you. But his grip tightens until you wince and finally relent, stomach churning in disgust and shame as you tentatively lick at the bitter liquid.

He doesn’t release you, not until every last drop is coating the inside of your mouth, his taste heavy in your mouth, seemingly in every crevice of your orifice, your hand completely clean and void of your sinful interaction.

You want to hate him. You want to wipe the smug satisfied look clean off his face. But as you readjust your disheveled clothing, you’re reminded of your own body’s betrayal, your own carnal desire and pleasure, by the uncomfortable mess in between your legs. And all you can do is silently stand there and pretend that nothing has happened as Matsukawa nonchalantly tucks himself in and checks his phone.

There’s an uncomfortable silence as you wait for him to acknowledge what has just happened, only to be disappointed as he doesn’t even spare you another glance, too observed in the glowing screen in his hand. You wonder if this was just a one time thing, if he had been stringing you along all this time for one quick public tryst. And you hate the way that thought makes your chest hurt, hate how much you dislike the idea of never seeing him again, never talking to him again, never feeling and tasting him again.

But as the train pulls into his stop, your eyes widen when his face hovers by your ear, lips grazing your lobe as his voice melts into your soul.

“Wear a dress or skirt tomorrow. No panties or bra.”

He laughs as surprise turns into an endearing scowl that barely hides the apparent relief in your eyes and he just casually waves farewell as you send him on his way with a tirade of angry words about his fucking audacity. But it’s all empty heat and he chuckles at the self-conscious embarrassment written all over your face when he sees you the next morning, a pretty dress fluttering around your knees.

There’s no preamble, no pretense of what’s about to happen and he smirks in appreciation at the unobstructed feeling of skin against skin as he slips his hand under your skirt, not an inch of fabric covering the treasure at the apex of your thighs.

Omg I have a request! I just hope tumblr doesn’t eat it but I just saw a tiktok trend to see how long it takes for your boyfriend to kiss you first and I would like to see that with any of the hq boys of your choosing pls 🥺 if not that’s fine I just thought it would be funny but have a good day/night bby <3

HAIKYUU BOYS WITH TIKTOK TREND WHERE YOU SEE HOW LONG IT TAKES THEM TO KISS YOU FIRST

characters - timeskip!miya atsumu, miya osamu, suna rintarō, iwaizumi hajime, sakusa kiyoomi

a/n - omg the way i screamed when i seen this one AHHHH so much cute possibilities, i kept it to more quiet boys (except ‘tsumu) lmao

☾ ATSUMU you always greeted him at the door after practice, his bright grin always waiting for his welcome home kiss and hug — but when youd thought about this prank you decided you’d make him have to be the one to seek you out instead, as you chose to remain on the couch when you heard his key in the door. a pout was on his lips instantly when your figure wasn’t the first thing he seen, basically walks straight to the living room to start looking “baby? what’re ya doin’ am home.” you looked up at him and gave him a quick smile before you attention went back to the tv show you were watching, hearing him huff as he fell clumsily next to you on the couch with a sigh— he keeps glancing at you as his pout deepens with each time he’s not met with a kiss until he cracks “yer killin’ me here! ya forgot ma kisses, where are ma kisses ya know a need them to survive.” before smooshing his lips against yours, he doesn’t even care when you laugh at his whining cos he gets his kisses anyway.

☾ OSAMU you’d visited him at the restaurant during your break at work, waving to the staff as they pointed you into the direction of the kitchen where your husband was preparing some orders “samu?” “hi baby, how’s yer day goin’?” you noticed the way he seemed to lean his head towards you as you walked over, knowing he was expecting his normal greeting kiss you always gave him, so when you watched his eyebrows furrow when you ignored him you felt a little bad ngl. “ya alright?” “yeah i’m good, why?” “no reason.” he doesn’t want to seem annoying by asking so he brushes it off until he finally finishes one of the orders as he moved towards you “it’s yer favourite.” hand holding the onigiri just to snatch it away when you reach for it “oi first — ya owe me a kiss, al trade ya.” — he wins.

☾ SUNA you were both lying in bed, scrolling on your phone as you lay against his chest — you decided to do the prank before bed because you both always shared a goodnight kiss “i’m gonna go to bed rin, goodnight.” he was going to say goodnight but by the time his eyes landed on your figure youd already closed your eyes like you were a sleep. you stifle your giggle when you feel him nudge you in your sleep as he whispered “hey, are you mad?” you blinked at him before shaking your head and lying back down again, smile so desperately wanting to break through your lips when you hear him sigh before nudging you again, his lips placing a quick peck against yours this time when you look up as he giggle, rolling his eyes as he scoffs “you’re a brat, go to sleep.”

☾ IWAIZUMI despite what people thought due to his intimidating exterior, iwaizumi loved kisses. he’d returned home from work, dropping his bag at the door as he immediately went to look for you as he found you in the living room on the couch, he’s even got a little smile when he walks over to you to place his hands at each side of your body, face leaning in close to yours as he awaits a kiss but when you just look past him to continue watching tv— he blushes so bad cos he’s a little embarrassed but also, he wants his kisses! “hey! what’s up with you?” “huh? nothing haji why?” he was too embarrassed to ask so he just grumbles something under his breath and sits next to you, you notice how he seems to get closer and closer until you’re basically on his lap but he’s pouting the whole time, you end up turning when you hear him groan only for him to crash his lips onto yours before pulling away with a blush “you’re a spoiled dumbass.”

☾ SAKUSA you always gave him a good luck kiss before a game, so you were curious what his reaction would be — because he always complained about your kisses even though he leaned into them with a blush everytime. you met up before he went onto the court, telling him good luck before you went to wave him off and leave, but before you can go you feel a slight tug on the hem of your jacket as you turn around to a very blushy kiyoomi “uh— where are you going?” “to the stands.” “we’re not done yet.” he can’t even look at you but when he glances at the confused look on your face you swear he burns redder, ends up quickly pulling down his mask to place a kiss against your forehead before turning immediately to walk away, hearing you giggle behind him as he mutters a “shutup.” hoping you don’t see the red that’s spread to the tips of his ears and neck — but you do.

TRAINING WHEELS

pairing: step daddy!suna x fem!reader warnings: 18+, DARK FIC, age gap (reader is in college), dilf!suna, stepcest, dry humping, dirty fantasies, masturbation, oral sex, corruption kink. words: 1.8k notes: happy suna day!! <3 taglist: @babayaga67​ ​​ @galagcica​ ​​ @hotwings0203​ ​​ @kgojo​ ​​ @mangocrepe​ ​@minniberri​ ​ @coldspoons​ ​ @hawkspet​ ​ @xxrwzy​ ​ @seita #📂 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴 𝗴𝘂𝗶𝗱𝗲 #📂 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

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Suna watches you. He watches you a lot.

It’s like watching a curious puppy taking its first steps, you clumsily mix the chocolate milk, licking the spoon right after, bouncing on your feet at the sound of some pop song blasting on your headphones. 

You wear one of his shirts, white cotton against your skin stopping at your mid-thighs. He notices your baby blue panties when you reach for the cereal on the shelf, the fabric hugging your butt so cutely he almost lets out a groan. He didn’t want to scare you, but you were almost falling out of the counter trying to grab the goddamn cereal box.

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