Iwaizumi Smut - Blog Posts

How long are Haikyuu boys’ dick in inches?

A/N:This has been sitting in my drafts for almost a year lmaooo let me get rid of it

Seijoh Four

Iwaizumi + Oikawa + Hanamaki + Matsukawa

Oikawa’s dick is so pretty. It’s long slender but definitely packs a punch. He is around 7 inches. His dick is so smooth and feel like absolute heaven sliding into you. The tip of his picklocks so pink and pretty especially when its dripping with pre-cum. He always keeps the hair around it short because he likes a neat clean cut. This man has an entire set he uses to shave and trim the hair. He likes to cockwarm your mouth with his dick. He just get a thrill off seeing you hot and ready practically begging him to fuck your mouth. Once he’s fucking into your mouth there’s no stopping him. He wants you to take all 7 inches of him until he’s spurting warm cum down your throat.

Hanamaki’s dick is everything. It’s so pretty and veiny His dick is around 6.5 inches and he definitely knows how to use it. This man could have you shaking with just one stroke. He’s so cocky about his dick because he knows it’s pretty and he knows he can make you cum. This tip of his dick is so thick and pretty, he can fuck you with just the tip and have you creaming.If you’re wondering, yes the drapes match the curtains. Hanamaki definitely doesn’t shave as much as he should but it’s not an unruly mess but, it’s a pink forest down there. He definitely fucks you nice and slow with it because he want you to feel every inch of him. He needs to see the way your eyes roll back every time he dips the tip of his dick inside of you just to tease you because we all know he likes to be a little tease.

Iwaizumi’s dick is so thick and long. This man has a veiny dick that looks so delicious and it will definitely stretch you out. He’s around 7.5 inches. At first he definitely had some unruly hair but Oikawa made him buy trimming tools with his and now he keeps it down to a decent cut. He doesn’t like the bald look. The tip of his dick is so thick and pink and practically always drooling with precut. He’s so thick and long he doesn’t mind having to hold your hips in pace because he knows how hard it can be to take all of him. Don’t expect him to go soft on you though because he shows no mercy, his dick is big and he’ll show you exactly how he puts it to use

Matsukawa’s dick shouldn’t even need an explanation. He’s so thick and big its almost unbearable…almost. This man is around 9 inches maybe more. He is definitely touching the cervix without even being fulling in. He’s so thick and veiny and has god sent sex skills. The way this man can leave you trembling and begging for more without even fully having his dick inside of you is like magic. Matsukawa is cocky because he knows his dick is big and he doesn’t need anyone to tell him that. He is an absolute menace. He likes seeing your face scrunch up when he’s stretching your hole. He likes to make you look at yourself while he fucks you just so you can see how fuck out of it you get because of his dick so of course that means mirror sex.

— lap dances

various x fem!reader

synopsis ; you’re gonna run your poor boyfriend dry with the way you move your hips

includes : oikawa t., iwaizumi h., kuroo t., akaashi k., bokuto k., tendou s., kenma k., suga k., suna r., sakusa k., matsukawa i., nishinoya y., ushijima w., atsumu m., osamu m.

nsfw; 18+, aged up, lap dances, dry humping, mentions of choking, intoxication, some slight degrad, praise, slight voyeurism

I didn’t proofread I’ll do it in the morning

oikawa : promiscuous by nelly furtado

Oikawa clapped as you spin dramatically, whipping your hair every which way and mouthing the words to your song as if your life depended on it. Everything started innocent at first, but innocent isn’t a good look on Tooru. You jumped as he gripped your chin, making you look up at him as he sang some of the words back to you. Your hips began to sway as you pressed your body against his. “I want you on my team...” you whispered, letting yourself get lost in his chocolate irises, looking for any emotion you could get your hands on.

Neediness? Maybe he was desperate? What was it? Something clouded his vision and you soon realized it was lust. Your pussy throbbed in your shorts, hand trailing down his torso to grip his cock over his sweats. Your breathing became heavy as he pressed his forehead against yours. “So does everybody else.”

iwaizumi : desire by meg myers (the hucci remix is 10x better js)

Now that you think about it, maybe you like the attention. You like the feeling of Iwaizumi’s iPhone camera framed right on your dancing form, maybe the flash gives you an exhilarating boost of confidence. Whatever it is, it makes you stalk over to him like a slut, and he shudders as you run your hands up his abs underneath his shirt.

“Getting carried away there, precious girl,” he teased, admiring the view of your ass bouncing in the air as you felt up his muscles. He pats his lap gently, signalling that your throne was awaiting you, and you happily obliged. You caught Hajime off guard as you smoothed your cunt over his bulge, made him shake so hard that he almost dropped the camera recording your entire little game.

kuroo : shake ya ass by blackbear

The lights were bright in the club, enough fast turns and shakes could make anyone dizzy if they had the right amount of alcohol coursing through their system. That’s why Kuroo’s hands were rested securely on your waist, one sliding up and cupping your breast as the other wrapped around your inner thigh. You danced on him in a smiley haze, biting your lip as you felt him harden under you.

“Take me home?” You whimpered out as he stroked your pussy with a finger, shaky hand trailing down his neck, pulling him forward slightly by the collar to plant kisses along his cheek. He had never been so turned on in his life but fuck, you were pushing it. “Please Tetsu, I’m so horny, please take me home.” Within an instant, he had an Uber waiting for the two of you outside the exit doors.

akaashi : DHL by frank ocean

Akaashi’s gaze watched as your black, thin thigh highs rolled far down your thighs with every movement of your ass, his hand going to reach out just to slap the fabric against the skin. Yet, when you smacked his hand away gently, he felt his pants get tighter.

“Can’t touch, huh?” He breathed out, lips only a mere inch away from your plump glossed ones. Your breath mixed, one leg snaking around and sitting yourself promptly on his lap. You swallowed down a hiss as your lips connected, grinding down against his cock through his dress pants. You were bittersweet and he didn’t know how to deal with you sometimes but he didn’t mind surprises.

bokuto : bus it by blackbear

“You’re so good at that,” he couldn’t help but marvel at the way you moved your hips, his hands so big that they covered your ass cheeks entirely as he massaged the skin. You were a drug to him, only feeding into his addictive personality and getting him high while he watched you, center stage and spotlight on you.

The backseat of his car wasn’t the ideal place for a lap dance, it was so crammed but it only made the intimacy of your dance heavier. Your hands roamed through your hair and you swear, you could see the hearts forming in his eyes. Ko’s eyes rolled back as you swiped your clothes pussy over his cock repeatedly, the friction making him bite on his knuckle. God, he wanted to fuck you so bad.

tendou : muse by OCAD (yes I used this song in another post stfu)

You whimpered as Tendou yanked the leash connected to your collar forward, dragging your knees against the carpet as his eyes trained on your ass. You nuzzled his thigh, sticking your tongue out to lap at his cock over his boxers. “Dance for me, doll.”

It’s better to listen to his requests rather than disobey, so like a good little puppy, you rolled your body and ran your hands across your skin, smiling everytime he raked his red eyes up and down your form. ‘Satori’ flashed in red letters, studded right on top of the leather wrapped along your throat, and you felt your thighs squeeze when he licked his top row of teeth. There is nothing he loves more than watching his girl perform for him.

kenma : freak by lana del rey

Up and down. Up and down. Side to side, usually he’s quick with following movements like this, he’s a gamer after all. But fuck, when it’s your pretty ass in a dress way too short for you, his mind goes blank. Kenma’s stray locks of hair fall in front of his face, refusing to take his eyes off of your twerking figure.

But when you begin grinding on top of him, rubbing your pussy against his cock like it’s fun to you? So hard, it’s so hard to keep back the moans, the whimpers, all of the embarassing noises that he wants to avoid making. “S-slow down,” he murmurs, kissing your hand as you bring it up to stroke his cheek.

suga : trust by brent faiyaz

Your hips swayed side to side, and goddamn, he had to loosen his collar a bit at the sight of you moving with the rhythm. The other fellow third years sat in their respectful sides of what was supposed to be a sleepover and embarassment showed through your burning cheeks. A dare is a dare, right?

“Fuck,” you could just barely catch Suga’s comment, eyes straying slowly to the side from your seat on Daichi’s lap. His eyes were dark, focused on your ass as you rocked against his best friend’s hard-on. That coy smile will kill him, surely, and he gulped the hardest he ever has as you strut towards him.

suna : uber by arizona zervas

You thought you were slick when you dropped to your knees in front of Suna, in front of his spot on the bed of your hotel room. You thought you were sneakily sexy as your ass swayed with every crawl closer and closer to him, the bell on your neck ringing softly and skirt hiking up with your skirt. You thought you were clever, so fucking clever, snaking a hand up his thigh and palming his cock, eyes pretty and pleading as they met his slanted ones.

But no. Rintarou was always a step ahead of you, that’s why he wasted no time pinning you to the mattress, face down and ass up. You really thought he would sit through a lap dance, baby? Not when you’re so wet that your slick is dripping down your thigh, no, he’s gotta take care of you in his own harsh way.

sakusa : I like being by sybyr

You had expected Kiyoomi to stray away from your idea of a good time, but he was always good at putting up with your bullshit. Your ass pressed up against his groin and he warned you, he fucking warned you, that you’d get in trouble if you kept moving so carelessly. Of course, the threat only made you back your ass up on him more and he yanked you by the waist so that you were sitting nice and pretty on his lap.

“You think this is fucking funny?” He questioned, shoving a hand down your panties and not hesitating to rub your clit so fast that it almost felt like a personal attack. You shaked in his tight hold, although you figured he’d put you in your place for acting up. “Gonna be the death of me, filthy whore.”

matsukawa : jealou$y by the neighbourhood

“Shh,” the tip of your finger fell against his lips, his words suddenly only a forgotten memory as he watched your hands roam across your body, past your hardened nipples, down the chains connecting your bra to your panties. “Enjoy the show, yeah?”

A smirk graced his face, eyes hooded per usual, cheek resting in his palm while he watched his personal exotic dancer do her thing. He wouldn’t tell you, but he could tell you were begging to be touched as you shook your ass in his face, so he only gave you what you wanted.

nishinoya : wrong by MAX (ty kai my fav noya whore)

Getting drunk with Nishinoya was always a tossup between getting your shit rocked by the end of the night or simply just passing out with bottles in your hand. This night? This night, your playlist was booming through your shared apartment, this night you were shaking your ass and showing moves for your lovely boyfriend.

Anyone watching could see the sexual tension, could feel it even as you threw your ass back in front of him, bending over and moaning so slightly when he’d push your ass against him to feel his hard cock. Once you rose back up, he grabbed you by the throat, bringing you oh so close just to tell you how sexy you are. How he’s gonna fuck you so hard your pussy will be ruined, “wanna watch you shake that ass while you ride my cock.”

ushijima : buttons by the pussycat dolls

The last time Ushijima Wakatoshi felt this infatuated was when he met you for the first time, often comparable with his very first volleyball match. He can admit to himself that he doesn’t appreciate your body enough, and he can only clench his jaw as you strut to him with that pretty lingerie he bough you clad to your body. His eyes widened up just a little as he watched you drop to the floor, stopping just enough to strain the back of your legs and he resists the urge to bite his lip as you spread them wide open.

“You wanna touch me, don’t you Toshi?” You mumbled, eyes locking onto his, hand ghosting over your pussy. He nodded subconsciously, shifting ever so slightly in his seat, thinking of all of the ways he could get you to say his name. You giggled as he pulled you into his lap, jumping on the light slap he left on your thigh before letting him roll you onto your back.

atsumu : maria I’m drunk by travis scott

As much as you wanted control of the situation, Atsumu never failed to make you melt under his touch. Thick fingers gripped your hips, thumb stroking the sensitive skin as you backed your ass up against his hard dick. Kisses ran up and down your neck, slow and steady, unlike the fast pace of your grinding.

“Prettiest fuckin’ girl,” he bit your earlobe, chuckling as you arched your back against him. His t-shirt draped and pooled onto your thighs, proudly wearing the number 13. A hand running through your scalp caught your attention, eyes fluttering as he held your head in place so he could watch you drink the spit he dropped onto your tongue. “Sexy lil thing.”

osamu : re-up by anders

Heat rose to your face as you felt Osamu’s hands brush up past your breasts, soon finding purchase in their hold on your throat. Nothing could stop the feverish grind of your hips, you were desperate to be so close to him. If he were honest, he doesn’t think he’s seen anything hotter than his pretty baby dancing for him, all for him.

“You’re all mine, right?” He loosened his grip on your neck only by a little, his eyes rolling slightly back at your breathy ‘yes.’ He began moving against you, applying more pressure to his thrusts in hope of making you cum from dry humping alone. You started this game but after being Atsumu’s twin all his life, he couldn’t resist a challenge.

streets

pairing: hajime iwaizumi x reader

genre: smut

warnings: 18+ nsfw, mentions of alcohol consumption, oral (male receiving), choking, dirty talk, daddy kink, slight size kink, slight praise kink

summary: you give your boyfriend top at the red light

you sigh as you climb into the passenger seat of the car, your body feeling heavy because of how tired you were. as you settle into the seat you hear the door of the driver’s side opening. your head lolling to the side, you see your boyfriend. you catch iwaizumi’s eyes and with a small smile he leans forward pecking your lips.

after pulling back, he begins to put his seat belt on and breaks the comfortable silence, “i hope tonight wasn’t too much. i know you don’t really like parties.”

oikawa had thrown a little new year’s kickback as a celebration of not only the new year but him finally being back in japan. he had invited a majority of the seijoh boys and of course iwaizumi. being oikawa’s closest friend, iwaizumi knew he had to show up or else oikawa would whine about it for the months to come. truth be told, hajime was looking forward to spending his new year with you cuddled on the couch while some random countdown special played in the background. clearly that wasn’t the case. the both of you had went and hajime had made it known that he didn’t feel like drinking tonight but he had no issue if you wanted to. you had decided not to drink too much because you didn’t want your boyfriend to ring in the new year by holding your hair up while you threw your guts up in the toilet. although, you knew that if that were to happen he would have no problem with it. a couple beers and a shot or two later, you and hajime decided to take your leave early in hopes that you two could make it home before the clock hit 12:00.

leaning your head back against the headrest you close your eyes and smile, “no, it’s okay. i had a lot of fun. nothing beats seeing makki and mattsun doing drunk karaoke.”

hajime begins to reverse the car, placing his hand on the back of your headrest as he looks back. he shakes his head, “yeah but hearing that shit is awful, i almost went deaf.”

he looks at you briefly before directing his attention to the road in front of him, “are you okay though? you need me to pick up anything?”

you were always able to handle your liquor fairly well so you don’t feel anything more than a slight buzz. you open your eyes to look at your boyfriend, slight smile still on your face, “i’m okay, just wanna be home.”

Keep reading

ok so iwachan is the type of boy you bring home to show your fam, the type that has you and your fam wrapped around his fingers *literally*. imagine bringing him home for dinner one day and he reacted when you asked “daddy” to pass you the pepper??? AND CUES SOME NASTY SHIT HE WILL PULL. make it nasty

A/N: “make it nasty” man you are really putting a lot of pressure on me here (x

Warning: fingering, panty thieving, daddy kink

You were almost, no, you were certain that your parents liked your boyfriend more than they like you.

To think that the thought of your boyfriend having to win them over even crossed your head when you brought him home for the first time, how foolish of you. Credit where it was due, Iwaizumi was a great guy. Respectable, reliable, with his feet on the ground and held all his words with weight. But still, it didn’t stop your saltiness at how your parents almost wanted to hand you off the moment they met him.

You wondered how they would feel if they knew that their perfect son in law was secretly a bit of a freak. But that wasn’t entirely fair, after all, the gap in his demeanor the moment the bedroom door closed had you weak in the knees.

He could probably get away with most anything when it comes to your parents, let’s be honest. But it didn’t stop you from feeling the dread when he casually reached over the table the moment you absent-mindedly asked for “daddy” to pass you the pepper.

Everyone froze in place, and you could see the brief panic in his eyes when he realised what he had done. The smile on your face was stiff as he handed you the jar, hoping and praying that your family would not get the connotation of the phrase. You wanted to die when you see your actual father opened his mouth as if he was hesitant to say something but before he could even articulate his confusion, your boyfriend rose up from his seat and filled your father’s glass with a smile that was too earnest for him to even say anything. 

You were supposed to be relieved that your father was immediately grinning and patting Iwa’s shoulder at his thoughtfulness, but you could feel shivers running up your spine when he sat back down and shot you a meaningful glance.

He really, really could get away with anything.

You tried to brush it off when you felt his hand on your thigh, looking over to your side to see him grinning at something your mother said. The clink of your chopsticks falling onto the ceramic made everyone snap their heads to look at you, and your face was burning as you tried to pretend like you totally weren’t caught off guard by your boyfriend’s finger dipping into your panties.

“Are you feeling alright?” he asked with a tone of concern, leaning over to place his palm on your forehead. Your hand was immediately clutching his forearm as the movement allowed him to press his fingers down onto your clit, biting your lips so that you would not make a sound.

He had his back to your parents, and you were the only one who could see the slight smirk on his face.

“I’m alright,” you said, trying your best to hide the way your voice was trembling as you pushed your chair back, abruptly standing up. Iwa was eyeing you in amusement as you chuckled nervously, “it’s just a bit stuffy in here, I’ll be better once I go splash some water on my face.”

You took a deep breath the moment you were along in the corridor, trying to calm yourself down. You were not going back in there until your skin stops burning up and the goosebumps on your arm eased. Your thighs clenched together was you walked, cursing at yourself for how the ministrations he did on you had such an effect.

“Baby girl.”

You jumped at the voice that was low by your ear, his hot breath tickling your senses as he cornered you. The way you rubbed your legs together as he approached you didn’t go unnoticed and you knew you were in for it when his eyes darkened.

“Hajime, what are you-”

“Just then out there, you nearly embarrassed me in front of mom and dad,” you loved and hated the way he addressed your parents like that, “you know how I feel about you using that word...”

You wanted to argue that it was a reach, that it was unintentional but your voice came out as nothing more than a squeak when his hands slipped under your skirt to tug at the elastic of your panties.

“Off.”

The sheer dominance in his voice had you weak in his hands. Looking around to make sure no one was watching, you shuddered as he peeled the fabric off your legs, stuffing it in his jean pocket.

“Now that’s a good girl,” he was quick to return to his usual demeanor as he took your hand in his before walking back out to the dining area but not without leaning down to whisper in your ear. The gravel in his voice made you shiver. “behave, or else daddy will get very angry at you.”

The food was delicious, but your sense of taste seemed to betray you as your mind was not able to ignore how bare you felt. You hoped no one noticed that you were shifting in your seat but he sure did, ever so attentive as he was. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, nothing suspicious except for the fact that his hand was inching towards your now naked core. Your hand was gripping at the table as he traced your folds, collecting the leaking arousal at the pad of his fingers. “Hm?”

“Nothing!” you managed to choke out, quickly biting your cheeks so that nothing would slip out as he eased two fingers inside your walls, slowly scissoring them.

“You have been acting very strangle today, are you sure you’re alright?” you mother asked, “maybe you should go home and take some rest.

You could only force yourself to nod as the bolts of pleasure shot up your spine, the feeling of him gliding in and out of you painfully prominent.

“No worries, I’ll take care of her.” 

You wanted nothing more than to glare at him for managing to sound so sweet, so caring as he toyed with you. The tingling on your scalp as he pulled away was enough to keep you on edge and you could feel your arousal gushing out at the sudden lost of friction.

“Of course we won’t worry, we know she is in very good hands!” There it was, your parents’ near painful oblivion as to what was going on

“It’s nice to know that we can always count on you!”

Your mother’s voice rang by your ear as he walked you out of the restaurant with his arm holding you up. You were glaring daggers at him the moment you were out of their sight. “Hajime-”

You gasped when you felt his hand grabbing your ass roughly.

“Sh... daddy will take very good care of you tonight.”

Thinking of Iwaizumi coming home after a day of training and fucking you to sleep with his big cock <3

Iwaizumi, Rivals, part 3, nsfw..? Please 🥹 only if you have time ofc.. but like.. please don’t leave me hanging.. the cliffhanger… please..

You ofc, don’t need to do it. It’s totally up to you. Also please remember to drink water & eat full meals!

Just posted (read here) after eating a full meal and drinking all my water :D I hope you enjoy the spice eheheh thank you for the ask lovely <333

Rivalry: Iwaizumi Pt. 3 (NSFW)

The overhead lights in your office buzzed faintly, casting a sterile sheen across your desk, your tea, your meticulously arranged files. Every folder sat aligned at a perfect angle, every spreadsheet tabbed and color-coded to hell and back. You had done it all this morning, trying to distract yourself—trying to settle your mind with clean lines and predictable logic. The problem was, your hands weren’t moving. Your cursor blinked on the empty field of the player report form, waiting for an input that wasn’t coming.

You were still in last night’s gym.

You could feel it—his hand at your waist, his breath ghosting along your neck, the focused burn in his eyes like he’d been trying so hard not to look and failing anyway. That single brush of his fingertips over your lower back had lingered longer than it should have. You’d felt the press of his palm even after the janitor’s voice startled you both apart.

You clicked your pen hard against the desk, leaving a dent in the paper beneath it. No. You are not spiraling over Iwaizumi Hajime’s fucking triceps. This wasn’t high school. You didn’t have a crush. You had standards—and a job to do.

So why the hell couldn’t you stop replaying how his eyes had dropped—not to your clipboard, not to your notes—but to your mouth, right before the door opened?

Another sharp click. Another unfinished line of text. The memory flushed through your chest like static, and you were just about to stand and walk it off when a knock sounded on your door.

It was brisk. Familiar. Firm.

You barely managed to school your features into something neutral before the door cracked open—and there he was.

Iwaizumi Hajime, looming like a storm cloud, his Olympic-branded laptop tucked under one arm. His shirt sleeves were rolled to the elbows, veins tracing his forearms like tension maps, his jaw tight, unreadable. He didn’t say anything at first, just stepped inside your office with the restrained efficiency of a man too used to high-stakes situations.

“I’ve updated the training program,” he said, voice rough and clipped, as if last night hadn’t happened. “Based on what you showed me yesterday.”

He moved toward your desk, tilted the screen toward you. The moment the spreadsheet opened, your eyes skimmed the rows—and your stomach tightened.

Komori’s lateral sequences had been scaled down. Hyakuzawa’s overhead load was decreased. Flexibility modules were individualized. The wording was precise. The ratios were accurate.

You couldn’t believe it.

“It looks… solid,” you said, cautiously. “You actually listened.”

Iwaizumi’s mouth quirked. “I always listen.”

“You just don’t usually believe me,” you muttered, fingers tapping the edge of the keyboard.

He shrugged. “I believe you when you’re right.”

You were about to fire back when the door slammed open.

“Whoa—no yelling?” Bokuto’s voice rang out with playful disbelief as he peeked in, already grinning.

Behind him, Yaku gave a nod like he’d seen this coming from a mile away. “Told you they’d mellow out eventually.”

You crossed your arms, glaring. “What the hell are you two doing?”

“Seeing if the explosion already happened,” Bokuto chirped, eyes darting between you and Iwaizumi. “But this? You’re practically cozy. Suspicious.”

“Get out,” Iwaizumi growled, his voice all grit and warning.

“Wait, are you two—” Bokuto began.

“Absolutely not,” you cut in, sharp enough to decapitate.

Yaku raised a brow. “You’re denying it a little too fast, Doc.”

Iwaizumi’s glare could have melted iron. “Say one more thing and you’re benched for the week.”

“Okay, okay!” Bokuto backed up, laughing. “Damn. Just saying—it’s new energy.”

You stood, jaw clenched. “Out. Now.”

The two Olympic players exchanged a final glance before Bokuto tossed over his shoulder, “If it does happen, call me for the wedding.”

As the door shut behind them, you exhaled sharply. “They are insufferable.”

Iwaizumi rubbed the back of his neck, sighing. “Because we let them be.”

He turned toward the door, laptop still under his arm. Before leaving, he hesitated—just for a beat—and looked at you over his shoulder.

“Seriously. You were right. Yesterday.”

The words landed heavy. Too heavy.

“…Thanks.”

He nodded once, then walked out. Door closing on his way out.

And you didn’t move for a long time.

Not until your pulse calmed and the sound of his voice stopped buzzing in your ears.

--

You’d barely made it back to your office from your lunch break and shut the door behind you before there was another knock. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was. That rhythm was far too obnoxious to belong to anyone else.

“Doc!” Atsumu Miya strolled in like he owned the place, grinning with all the charm of a cat who’d just knocked something off a counter. “Got a second? My shoulder’s actin’ up again—figured you’d be thrilled to poke around in it.”

You rolled your eyes, but gestured toward the exam bench anyway. “Sit. Shirt off. Keep the commentary to a minimum.”

“That’s no fun,” he mumbled, but obeyed, peeling his shirt off with the practiced flair of someone who knew exactly what his arms looked like in fluorescent lighting.

You slipped on your gloves, moving around him with practiced ease. “Still some impingement from the inflammation?”

“Mmhm,” he replied, rotating his arm slightly. “Worse after I sleep on it wrong.”

You pressed gently along the front of the shoulder, assessing the rotation with subtle shifts. He winced once, which you noted.

Then, predictably, the smirk returned.

“Ya and Iwaizumi-san looked cozy earlier,” he said casually, not even trying to be slick. “Should I be worried?”

You froze for half a second, just enough for him to catch it.

“Worried he might kill me?” you deadpanned, fingers still pressed to his deltoid. “Absolutely.”

Atsumu huffed a laugh, but his eyes narrowed, too observant for your liking.

“I was thinkin’ the opposite,” he mused. “Didn’t look like hate to me.”

Your brows twitched.

You narrowed your eyes. “Did the rest of the team put you up to this?”

Atsumu’s smirk deepened. “What? Can’t a guy notice things on his own?”

You scoffed and reached for his shoulder again. “I’m going to press deeper into the joint now.”

Atsumu, still grinning, relaxed his shoulder—and immediately yelped when your fingers dug just slightly harder into the inflamed tissue.

“Still tender, I see?” you asked innocently, lifting a brow.

“Ow—damn, Doc!” he hissed, rubbing the area as you pulled back. “That was a low blow.”

You offered a thin smile. “Consider it a reminder to keep your theories to yourself.”

He winced, stretching his shoulder slowly. “You wound me. Here I am, bringin’ you a little entertainment in your dull clinic, and you repay me with violence.”

“I repay you with diagnostics,” you replied coolly, stepping around to the back of his shoulder. “And unsolicited opinions get the treatment they deserve.”

“Don’t know why you’re actin’ like this is such a scandal,” he muttered. “Half the gym’s been waitin’ for you two to snap and jump each other.”

Your glove-clad fingers stilled mid-rotation.

Atsumu grinned like a shark. “C’mon, you mean to tell me ya don’t see it? All that arguing—feels like foreplay.”

"It is not in your best interest to continue that train of thought."

You moved to the back of his shoulder and rotated the joint again, this time met with less resistance.

But your heart was suddenly in your throat.

Atsumu didn’t push further—blessedly—but his silence was far louder than any teasing remark. He watched you finish the check-up with a strange sort of calm, the air between you humming with something unsaid.

“You’re good,” you said finally, peeling off the gloves and tossing them into the bin. “Still keep the compression sleeve on when you’re not on court. I’ll send you some updated stretches.”

“Thanks, Doc.” He hopped off the bench, slinging his shirt over his shoulder. But just before he stepped out, he paused at the door.

“Y’know,” he said, almost too casually, “it’s kinda wild. Iwaizumi’s been here for years, and I’ve never seen him look at anyone like that.”

The door shut behind him before you could ask what the hell that meant.

And you hated—hated—the way your face warmed.

--

The lights in the hallways were dim, the soft hum of the facility settling into its nightly lull. Most of the staff had already cleared out—offices darkened, doors locked, the echo of your footsteps the only thing keeping the silence company. You rolled your shoulder, spine aching after another long day of meetings, treatment notes, and dodging the smug glances Atsumu kept throwing you every time he passed your office.

You were halfway to the exit, bag slung over your shoulder, keys in hand, when something made you stop. A dull, rhythmic sound. The muted clang of weights meeting padded flooring.

Your eyes cut to the side.

The training gym was lit only by a single overhead bulb in the far corner, flickering slightly above the racks. Inside, shirtless, sweat-slicked, and visibly focused, stood Hajime Iwaizumi. Alone.

You didn’t mean to stop. But your feet planted themselves anyway.

He was mid-lift—some kind of upright barbell press—and the curve of his back shifted with every rep, sweat rolling down between the muscles that flexed and released with practiced rhythm. His sweatpants clung to the powerful line of his hips, and a notebook sat open beside him on the bench, filled with scrawled corrections and diagrams. He wasn’t just working out. He was testing.

Your breath snagged, and before you could stop yourself, your hand reached out to gently push the door open.

Iwaizumi looked up.

He didn’t pause. Didn’t blink. Just kept lifting, jaw tight, eyes catching yours.

"You just gonna stand there," he said, voice gravelled with fatigue and something warmer, "or you planning to come in?"

Your heart gave an inconvenient lurch.

You stepped in. Slowly. The door clicked shut behind you, the echo bouncing off the gym walls like a warning shot.

"Didn’t think you’d still be here," you said, keeping your voice neutral.

He lowered the weights, rolling his shoulders back with a grunt. "Didn’t finish the work. That thing you won’t stop nagging me about."

Your lips twitched. "Right. That thing."

A beat of silence. Thick and heavy.

You moved closer, eyeing the open notebook.

"You’ve changed a lot," you said, voice quieter.

He arched a brow. "Excuse me?"

You pointed at the program updates. "The circuits. You adjusted the progression intervals. And you finally stopped overloading the endurance drills."

A shrug. "You were right."

Your eyes flicked up, surprised to hear it from his mouth.

"Don’t get smug," he muttered.

"Wouldn’t dream of it."

The corner of his mouth quirked, and for a moment, the silence between you was less heavy. Just taut. Like a pulled wire.

You pointed to the bar. "May I?"

His brow raised, but he stepped aside. You brushed past him—just barely—but the heat that rolled off his skin followed you like static. You wrapped your fingers around the bar, adjusted your stance.

"Like last night," you murmured, reaching back with your hand, brushing your palm across the taut muscle of his abdomen. "You’re still tensing too soon. Posterior tilt’s off."

He let out a rough exhale. "You always this picky?"

"You always this stubborn?"

He caught your wrist. Not hard—just firm enough that your eyes snapped to his.

"You know what you’re doing."

Your pulse jumped. "Do I?"

His mouth crashed into yours before you could answer.

Everything went hot and messy.

His lips were rough, desperate, teeth scraping your lower lip like it was a grudge he meant to settle. You gasped into his mouth as his hands found your waist, calloused fingers digging into the soft give of your skin like he could anchor himself there. The gym’s cold air was a distant thing, barely felt beneath the furnace of your bodies colliding, friction turning tension into fire.

You didn’t remember moving, only the wild clutch of your limbs and his, the stumble of your shoes across the floor. One step. Two. Then you were walking him backward toward the center mat, his chest rising beneath your touch. He was tugging your shirt up, shoving it over your head with a grunt of impatience, and it hit the ground somewhere behind you. You didn’t care. You needed more—needed his skin under your palms, needed to feel him, solid and hot and here.

"You’re such a pain in my ass," you growled, teeth flashing as you wrestled with the waistband of his sweats.

"Yeah?" he rasped, his hand already sliding past the waistband of your leggings, fingers curling possessively around your ass. "Then why do you keep showing up?"

You shoved him. Hard.

He hit the mat with a thud, breath whooshing out of him—and still he grinned like the bastard he was, even as he yanked you down on top of him.

Your thighs spread across his hips as you straddled him, your palms braced on his chest, feeling the flex of muscle beneath each ragged breath. You kissed him again—slower this time, deeper. Your tongue slid against his, your hips beginning to roll, teasing friction where your bodies met. His cock strained against his sweats, thick and hot and barely contained.

"Take them off," you muttered.

He obeyed. Sweats shoved down, boxers next, and his cock slapped against his stomach, flushed and ready. You stared for a beat too long.

"What?" he panted, eyes dark and glassy.

"Nothing," you lied. "Just shut up."

Clothes hit the floor in a trail of skin and fabric. Your leggings. Your panties. His shirt. Everything discarded in your frantic need.

He sat up just enough to run his hands up your sides, thumbs brushing the swell of your breasts, then down to your thighs as you shifted above him. You held his gaze as you reached between you, guiding him to your entrance. Your breath caught at the first stretch—then you sank down, inch by inch, until he was fully seated inside you.

You both froze.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, your body adjusting to the thickness of him. The sensation was overwhelming—stretching you open, the slow drag of every inch sending a shiver down your spine. It had been too long since something felt this good. Since someone felt this good.

He groaned, hands trembling against your waist, gripping you like he might come undone.

"Fuck," he whispered. "You—"

"Don’t talk," you snapped, breathless.

You rocked forward, and he moaned. A sound from deep in his throat, guttural and raw. You did it again—slow, dragging circles with your hips, feeling every ridge, every inch, the way he filled you so completely you could barely breathe. The pleasure curled through you hot and tight, blooming in your belly, liquid heat spreading with every thrust.

His mouth found your neck, tongue tracing the line of your throat before he bit, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to make you whimper.

"You drive me insane," he muttered against your skin, and this time, you didn’t argue.

You set a rhythm, your hands on his chest, his hands on your ass, guiding you down harder, deeper, every motion building heat in your belly. Sweat slicked your skin, your thighs trembled, and every thrust sent sparks up your spine. The tension climbed higher, unbearable, addictive.

He met you thrust for thrust, rising to meet you, hips snapping up as you dropped down, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing off the gym walls. You felt yourself unraveling around him, muscles tightening, your body shaking.

"You like this, don’t you?" he growled, voice low and fucked out. "Being in charge. Getting your way."

"Shut up, Hajime."

He grinned—and flipped you.

You hit the mat with a gasp, his body heavy and hot above you. He braced one arm beside your head, the other slipping under your thigh as he pulled your leg higher around his waist.

"Not gonna let you win everything, Doc."

Then he was pounding into you, unrelenting, deep and fast, and your fingers clawed into his back, desperate to hold onto something as pleasure overtook you. Each thrust filled you to the hilt, your walls fluttering around him, slick and tight and aching.

You cried out, eyes fluttering shut, hips canting up to meet his every thrust.

"There," you gasped. "Right there—"

He didn’t stop. Not until your back arched, legs locking around his waist, and you came with a broken moan, pleasure snapping through you like lightning. You pulsed around him, body locking up as ecstasy tore through you.

He followed seconds later, groaning into your neck, his body trembling with release.

For a long moment, all you heard was breath. Harsh. Labored. Yours and his.

He didn’t pull out right away. Just stayed, forehead pressed to your shoulder, his hand tangled in your hair.

You stared at the ceiling.

Oh, fuck.

What now?

Thank you to everyone who got me to 500 likes!

Favourite Positions: Iwaizumi

Of all the positions Hajime loved you in, you on top riding him was definitely his favourite.

Maybe it was because he loved the way your tits bounced, how a quick pinch of your nipple would make you squeeze his cock in all the right places. Or maybe it was the way he could grab your hips, ass plush and perfect for smacking.

But if he really thought about it, it was probably because he adored your face when you rode him. No matter how many times you get on top, your reaction is always the same.

“Haj-Hajime…” You panted, face flush pink with effort as you repeatedly slammed yourself down on his thick cock, slight drool leaving the corner of your lips. Your hands were gripping the headboard for support, knuckles whitening as you used your full strength to roll and ride your hips against his, purposefully grinding right against that spot that made you see stars.

He loved watching you lose yourself in him, the once respectable and cohesive woman he fell in love driving herself rabid. All just for him.

Your movements, once smooth and consistent, start to falter with exhaustion, sweat beading down your lower back. Still, you don’t stop, lost in pleasure.

Seeing you like this always drove him wild.

“Can’t get enough, can you?” Hajime rumbled, his hand moving from your ass trailing up your spine in a way that gave you shivers. He stopped at your neck, to which he grabbed and pulled you with a newfound vigor, pulling you so close that your breasts were flush against his chest. He had the chance to look at your eyes, so lost in lust as you panted hotly in his face.

“My turn now.”

With that, his other handheld down your hips as he began to thrust up into you.

Hard.

Drool hit his neck, and Hajime began his own rhythm, with you either trying to form words or a sentence, he isn’t sure. Your moans emphasised with each thrust, mingling perfectly with his grunts. You call out his name, hands moving from the headboards to his shoulders, your fingernails pressing sharp crescent moons into his skin.

“Please, please, please!” You yell, and Hajime immediately understands you. His hand moves from your neck down to where you two become one, as he rubs your clit masterfully. It only takes a few seconds till your whole-body tenses with nirvana. He feels your walls clench around him, milking him to his finish right as you come down from yours.

With a few messy thrusts, he’s left with a soft cock, your juices all over him, and a very sleepy and happy you.

Oh, yeah. Definitely his favourite.

Favourite Positions: Iwaizumi

Of all the positions Hajime loved you in, you on top riding him was definitely his favourite.

Maybe it was because he loved the way your tits bounced, how a quick pinch of your nipple would make you squeeze his cock in all the right places. Or maybe it was the way he could grab your hips, ass plush and perfect for smacking.

But if he really thought about it, it was probably because he adored your face when you rode him. No matter how many times you get on top, your reaction is always the same.

“Haj-Hajime…” You panted, face flush pink with effort as you repeatedly slammed yourself down on his thick cock, slight drool leaving the corner of your lips. Your hands were gripping the headboard for support, knuckles whitening as you used your full strength to roll and ride your hips against his, purposefully grinding right against that spot that made you see stars.

He loved watching you lose yourself in him, the once respectable and cohesive woman he fell in love driving herself rabid. All just for him.

Your movements, once smooth and consistent, start to falter with exhaustion, sweat beading down your lower back. Still, you don’t stop, lost in pleasure.

Seeing you like this always drove him wild.

“Can’t get enough, can you?” Hajime rumbled, his hand moving from your ass trailing up your spine in a way that gave you shivers. He stopped at your neck, to which he grabbed and pulled you with a newfound vigor, pulling you so close that your breasts were flush against his chest. He had the chance to look at your eyes, so lost in lust as you panted hotly in his face.

“My turn now.”

With that, his other handheld down your hips as he began to thrust up into you.

Hard.

Drool hit his neck, and Hajime began his own rhythm, with you either trying to form words or a sentence, he isn’t sure. Your moans emphasised with each thrust, mingling perfectly with his grunts. You call out his name, hands moving from the headboards to his shoulders, your fingernails pressing sharp crescent moons into his skin.

“Please, please, please!” You yell, and Hajime immediately understands you. His hand moves from your neck down to where you two become one, as he rubs your clit masterfully. It only takes a few seconds till your whole-body tenses with nirvana. He feels your walls clench around him, milking him to his finish right as you come down from yours.

With a few messy thrusts, he’s left with a soft cock, your juices all over him, and a very sleepy and happy you.

Oh, yeah. Definitely his favourite.

You Can't Be Serious NSFW (Reader x Iwaizumi)

High school is an extremely short era in people's lives. The choices you make don’t really matter, and the friends you made in that time usually wash away in the memories that overtake you in the cruel hours of early morning.

For most people at least.

In life, you’d guess that the world was split in two with these drastically different, but equally true opinions. But for you, it’d definitely be the first one. Had you not randomly joined the Seijoh High School boys' volleyball club on a whim as manager in your first year, you were very sure that your life would be completely different than it is right now.

You wouldn’t have four best friends that you keep in contact and chat with almost every day, and even more so, you wouldn’t being engaged at this very moment.

Yes, you were in fact engaged to your first crush and one of your very best friends. You weren’t high school sweethearts, and it wasn’t love at first sight, but more of a gradual thing that had started by the start of college and grown into something that you wouldn’t trade for the world. The ring adorning your left hand was a weight you’ve gladly grown accustomed to, having the ability to make you smile whenever the glimmer of the diamond caught your eye.

Of course, smiling to yourself in a random café was a little embarrassing, but hell if you couldn’t stop yourself. Instead, your smiling turned from the ring to the man you called out your name. You wouldn’t' be surprised if the people sitting in nearby tables thought that the man coming towards you, seemingly intimidating with the number of piercings and tattoos he had, however canceled out with the lazy grin slapped on his face, was your husband-to-be. But you both knew better.

“Hey there, Iwaizumi-san.” Matsukawa’s voice is light and teasing as he approaches your table, with you standing to greet him properly, head shaking slightly at his antics. You give him a quick hug, smiling up at him.

“You don’t have to call me that Issei. Though I will admit it does have a nice ring to it.” He hums as you both go to sit at the table again. “Also, you’re twenty minutes late. What’d you do, crawl here?”

Matsukawa clicks his tongue.

“I came here as fast as I could. It takes a lot of effort to look this good you know.” His arm raises to gesture at himself, jacket slipping down a little ways down his wrist where you could see the beginning of his most recent tattoo that you were against him getting. (What, 14 aren’t enough for you?) You snort.

“Believe me, I know.” He raises his pierced brow at you.

“Hey, it's just chance Hajime got to you first. I could’ve had you if I wanted you.” Its’ your turn to raise a brow.

“Issei... You’re gay.” His response is immediate.

“And he’s goddamn lucky I am. You would’ve fallen for me in an instant if I turned it on back then.” If this wasn’t considered a nice place, you’re sure he would’ve put his feet up on the table, confidence and pride just oozing off him, in the way you admittedly loved.

“Really now? Well, I’m sure my personal trainer fiancé would love to hear that.” A beat of silence hits the table.

“You play dirty.”

You shrug. “Where’s the fun in playing fair?”

“You gotta point.” You chuckle, finally looking at the menu given to you when you were first seated at the table. Matsukawa had actually invited you to lunch, for what you had assumed would be a mini celebration of yours and Hajime’s engagement, but only problem is...

Hajime wasn’t invited. In fact, you were told not to tell him you were going at all.

And, to your knowledge, he was a supposed to be a pretty important aspect of the celebration. When you had initially asked the reason to this impromptu lunch, and why you were told to keep it a secret from your fiancé, Matsukawa had been danced around the question, saying something along the lines of ‘What, I can’t ask one of my best friends to a random lunch? What is up with this society?’

Needless to say, you were suspicious.

You conspicuously look up from your menu, watching Matsukawa as he read his casually. As though this meeting was truly innocent, like there was nothing up his sleeve.

You’d known this man much too long to think for any second he’d do anything with innocent intent.

A server comes and takes your orders quickly and tells you that your food should arrive shortly. In this time, you figure out a proper strategy to try and find out what the hell this man is planning.

“So...” You start, fingers lightly circling the wooden table separating you two. “Mind telling me why you brought me out here so suddenly and why I was sworn to secrecy?” Matsukawa looks to you with half lidded eyes like he usually does, smile light and playful. Truly, an amazing poker face. Had you known him any less you

would’ve been none the wiser, but thankfully, you knew him all too well.

“I can’t take some time out of my very busy work life to see my favourite person in our ragtag group? Do you trust me that little?” You deadpan.

“Yes, I trust you that little. And what busy work life? Takahiro literally just told me you went out and bought as many RubberDucks with sunglasses you could find two days ago. For fun.” He scoffs.

“Well, excuse you, my work is very tiring. I need to find some ways to relax.” You can’t stop the roll of your eyes.

“You work at a funeral home and part time.”

“One could argue I’m doing the Lord’s work.” You fail to mask your face with the veil of annoyance, letting your smile take away any intensity you might’ve had. Chats with Matsukawa definitely didn’t get old.

“Then being the Lord’s helper, don’t you think you could cut the bullshit and tell me what it is you want from me?” He snickers, then goes silent. His face turns deadly serious in an instant, and his eyes meet yours. His stare was so intense you started to get a bit frightened. Was there actually something going on?

“I’m pregnant.” The tightening you felt in your chest was lifted as your tired sigh filled the air surrounding you. You wonder if this lunch was actually worth your time, in the moments that Matsukawa tries to contain his laughter to small chuckles.

“Issei...” He raises his hands in the air in surrender.

“Fine, fine. I brought you out here because I wanted to give you a little engagement present.” Your mood significantly lightens up at his words, mostly because the tiny anxieties in the back of your head of something bad really happening was finally put at bay. The sound of a ruffled paper bag hits your ears as he pulls your present from under the table and on top. (Really, how did you not notice it earlier?)

But you were still a little confused.

“And Hajime couldn’t know because?” Your question trails on as you grab the bag, peering over the table to a smaller white box in the bag. The box was unmarked, and you wondered what it could be.

“He’d beat the shit outta me.” Matsukawa said matter of factly. “He told us no gifts, remember?” Come to think about it, you do remember that. After he announced that you two were engaged to Matsukawa, Hanamakki, and Oikawa you vividly remember Oikawa over video crying about the things he could send from Barcelona, and Hajime saying that’d he punch him the next time they met if he did.

Hajime didn’t really like gifts all that much and it was understandable. He was the kind of guy who appreciated your company more than materialistic objects, which is something you did find really sweet. And he wasn’t alone in his opinion either, since you didn’t really like gifts either, but your reasoning was much shallower; In all honesty, having to remember who gave what and try to reciprocate the level of quality that person had given you before is a hassle.

You’d rather just be given money and be done with it.

But you would be lying to say that it didn’t feel nice to have someone go through the trouble of doing this.

“Aw, Issei... You didn’t have to...” He smiled again, slightly more genuine than the last. “It’s not a problem.” You thanked him, before enthusiastically looking at the box, attempting to open it.

“Actually, I’d refrain from opening it now.” He stops you dead in your tracks, and you look up confused.

“Huh? Why?”

“Let’s just say it's something you definitely wanna open alone.” Your expression makes him laugh but he doesn’t say anything further. You have half the nerve to throw caution to wind and open it anyways, but something deep inside your conscience tells you to listen to him. You hold your slightly concerned gaze, as you gently place the box back into the bag.

“Alright then...” You say cautiously, putting the bag next to your chair. “Can you at least tell me what it is?” His grin turns Cheshire.

“I’m bound by the law of my own unwillingness, and it has extremely strict regulations. So, unfortunately, I’m unable to tell you at this current moment in time. You’ll just have to see for yourself.” He says causally as he watches you slump back in your seat like a child with a laugh. You give him a side glance.

"So, you really just called me out here to give me this?”

“Yup.”

“With no other allterior motive?”

“Nope.” You sigh again, right as your food is being delivered. You both give a quick thanks.

“And you couldn’t have told me this over the phone?”

“What fun is that?” He says, mouth now full of food. You scoff as you begin to eat

your own, still slightly annoyed for being worried over seemingly nothing. Matsukawa notices.

“Aww, are you mad? What can I do for you to forgive me?” His mock pleading voice makes you smile again despite yourself. You click your tongue.

“You can start by treating me.” And with that you drop it. _________________________

The rest of the meal was quite pleasant, with Matsukawa paying for your meal just like you asked and congratulating you once again. You make plans to have lunch again with him and Hanamakki sometime soon, then finally leave for home.

During the meal, you mostly forgot about the present Matsukawa got for you. Sure, the delivery was weird, but Matsukawa was just weird in nature, so you didn’t really think much of it. You loosely held the bag in your hand as you took the train ride home. Your walk back was calm, and everything was ordinary until you returned to the small one-bedroom apartment that you and Hajime shared.

“I’m home!” You called out, taking off your coat and shoes. You hear no response. You crinkle your nose. Hajime should be home by now. You walk into the living, looking for your fiancé, to find a small note on the little table you have your meals on.

Had to pick up someone's shift at the gym, so I’ll be home late tonight. Don’t worry about food I’ll get some on the way. Love you, Hajime

You feel warmth race through you at the note. You always teased him about stuff like this, saying that he should text you instead, but he still did it anyways.

Not that it matters anyways, he knows you like it.

You let a little exhale as you place the note back down. Looks like you're on your own for the rest of the evening. You decide that today would be the perfect time to do nothing but lazy around, since you haven’t done that in a long time and it’s a Friday night damnit. Living an adult lifestyle can be so tiring sometimes, and you deserve a break.

You nod to yourself and prepare for a day of relaxing, throwing your clothes into your hamper and taking the necessary items for a long hot shower. You take your time, letting the warm water ease your tense muscles, and calm you down entirely.

By the time you finish, the bathroom is full of steam, and you know that you’re going to cringe at your water bill this month, but at the moment you didn’t care. You wrap

yourself with your towel and exit filled with bliss. Mind free of all ailments. At least until your eyes land on that paper bag.

You stare at it, and you swear it stares back at you. Every second that passes, you feel your curiosity peak more and more until you can barely stand it.

“Let’s just say it's something you definitely wanna open alone.”

Matsukawa’s words bounce around in your head, and it is his words that make you grab the bag and move to your bedroom, setting it on the bed before removing the unmarked box from its confinements.

You’re eager yet weirdly cautious as you open the box, seeing nothing but coloured tissue paper on the surface. Removing that you find a smaller package. Picking it up you instantly recognize it as the weight of clothes.

Seems normal enough. Why would I not want to open this in public?

You rip the packaging open, to be met with the reason as to why he didn’t want you opening this in public. Your jaw dropped.

It was the sluttiest lingerie set you’d ever seen, in fact, lingerie would be an overstatement.

Lingerie had more fabric than this monstrosity.

It came with a thick light pink collar, and you wish that the was the worst of it. The top was completely pink mesh, made to show everything except the nipples, which even then didn’t do that job correctly because you knew there was no way that would be covering anything properly with this material. The panties, if you could even call them that, were just three pink strings, not even covering what underwear was supposed to cover.

And of course, there were some thigh highs. Because why not add more to this shitshow.

Your face grows more and more red as you stare at the ‘clothes’ in your hands. You stare and stare, and stare... Until your embarrassment of holding such an item turns to pure rage and bitter resentment towards the person that is Matsukawa Issei.

You dial his number in anger and shame, getting more pissed for every ring you hear. Finally, he answers. You don’t even give him time to say hello.

“You perverted son of a bitch.” There’s a pause.

“Hi, you’ve actually reached the boyfriend of the aforementioned ‘perverted son of a bitch’. Can I be of service to you?” Hanamakki’s tone is mockingly serious, amplified over the crispness of the phone audio, and you’re really not in the mood.

“Where the hell is Issei?”

“I’m afraid he’s occupied with a couple dozen RubberDucks and a bath. Perhaps I can solve your issue?” You scoff.

“My issue is that your boyfriend is a sick fuck.” You practically spit. There's another pause.

“Didn’t we establish this? Like a long time ago?” You let out an exasperated sigh. You don’t know why you’re even bothering at this point, there are two peas of the same pod; they were practically made for each other.

“Takahiro, I’m serious. You won’t believe what that rat bastard gave me as an ‘engagement present’.” You use the term present lightly. Like anyone would ever want this.

“Yeah, I know. Can you believe I owe his dumbass a 1000 yen now?” Your eyes narrow in confusion, letting out another scoff unintentionally.

“You knew?”

“Please, I was the one who picked it out.” You tried multiple times to make sensible sentences, but your frustration was getting the better of you. Hanamakki listens to you stumble over your sentences patiently. You take a couple of deep breaths, not wanting your blood pressure to rise.

“Why?” You stress, after realizing that you wouldn’t be able to form anything coherent.

“I’ve actually prepared a whole presentation on this subject matter. It mostly concentrates on, ‘Why the hell not?’” He snickers.

You could swear you saw read.

“Takahiro.” Your tone is clearly conveying your current emotions because you swore you could hear Hanamakki gulp nervously. “Look, it was only a gag gift. No harm, no foul. If you don’t want to use it-” You cut him off with another of your scoffs.

“I’m sorry, ‘Use it’?! What on earth would I use this abomination for?!” There's a beat of silence between you two.

“...Do we really need to have this conversation?” Your nose unintentionally wrinkles.

“You’re not really saying, that either Hajime or I would enjoy this?” You raise the items in your hand, as though Hanamakki could see.

“You, maybe not. But Hajime, most definitely.” You blink, once, twice, slowly.

It’s you who doesn’t say anything for a while, as you stare at the lingerie in your hand.

Hajime would like this? Really?

You could hear Hanamakki sigh on the other end.

“I can practically hear you contemplating your life choices. I am actually sorry if it made you uncomfortable.” You narrow your eyes.

“Are you really?”

“No, this conversation has been really fun. But,” You roll your eyes. “What I’m telling you is true. That thing is maddening I’ll say that much.”

“Yes, because your advice on me and my fiancés' sex life is much appreciated.” You hear his laugh.

“I’m only saying that if Issei came out in something like that, we wouldn’t be leaving the house for days-”

“Ew, ew, I’m hanging up now.” You abruptly end the phone call upon the images of your best friends doing things in certain outfits infiltrate your mind.

You sigh heavily, all the work you put into relaxing dissipating into nothing after a single phone call. You lay back on your bed, eyes trailing to the fabric still in your hand.

That thing is maddening I’ll say that much.

You wince at the fresh memory bouncing in your head, unable to think about anything else.

You sit up straight, a newfound sense of frustration and throw fashion’s version of the spawn of Satan back in its box.

You had more self-respect than this. You had more pride than this.

You would never, ever, put yourself in a position where someone could ever see you like that. It was gross, weird and something you’d never do.

Never, ever.

_________________________

You can’t believe you’re doing this.

Your head is bowed in shame as you slide the thigh highs on your legs. For as shady as it looked, the material felt surprisingly good.

Whether you liked it or not, Hanamakki knew his shit.

You gave the socks one final tug before standing up and slowly looking at yourself in the mirror, full of fear and distaste that you caved into the words of your idiotic friends.

Your eyes widened at what you saw. You quite literally couldn’t believe it was you.

The bra seemed to fit you perfectly, and you had half a nerve to call up Hanamakki and ask him how he got it so accurately, but a part of you felt it was better to not know the answer. The underwire fit directly into the contours of your breasts, knowing exactly how to push them up and close, creating more cleavage than you’d ever seen on your self. Of course your nipples were showing from the transparency of the fabric, and sheer lack of it showed the bumps of your buds, leaving nothing to the imagination. The underwear hugged tugged your hips downward in the magical ratio of accentuating your waist, really showing off your figure. The string that went directly down your ass also somehow managed to make it look nicer, and you aren’t even sure how.

All in all, you were shocked to say the least. You couldn’t take your eyes off yourself, and you completely understood what Matsukawa and Hanamakki were talking about.

But obviously that didn’t mean showing this to Hajime. You have no idea how he’d react, and honestly, you’re too much of a coward to try and find out.

But apparently, you wouldn’t have much of a choice.

You jump from your trance at the sound of a door opening and closing, your heart jumping up to your throat in pure anxiety.

“I’m home.” You hear Hajime call out from the living, and you immediately start to panic, the sound drying up in your throat. Truth be told you weren’t the best at handling things under pressure, and while there were dozens of possible solutions to your problem, none were coming to mind.

Your name is called in question, your fiancé used to having you welcome him home. You squeak, stumbling to the door.

“I’m in our room, Hajime! I’m just trying something on!” You yell out, all the while

hopping on one foot trying to remove the socks as quickly as possible.

“Oh? You went shopping?” Your heart sinks. On any normal occasion, you’d show him what you’d bought if you did go shopping, so it’d look even more suspicious to hole yourself in your room.

“Oh trust me, this isn’t something I’d ever buy. Ever.” You chuckle nervously.

“What is it?” His voice was clearer now, you could tell he was on the other side of the door. For some reason, you stop undressing.

This thing is maddening I’ll say that much. There’s a pause, but before you know it words are flowing out of your mouth. “Nah, you don’t want to know...” Hajime hears you mumble, embarrassed. He was intrigued.

“Then why would I ask?” A silence follows, consisting of you finding the courage to actually show him this abomination. “You have to promise to not get mad, okay?” Hajime raises a brow.

“...Alright?” You take a minute to get the nerve.

“Issei and Takahiro got us a gift for the engagement-Well, not really it was more of a joke, a gross joke-But I just got curious and-“ You realize that it’d be more embarrassing to explain it rather than show it, so you take a deep breath, hike up your socks and slowly turn the knob. You cautiously open the door to find Hajime standing there, eyes widening the second you came into full view, his breath stuttering. You couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Please don’t laugh.” You sigh out, defeated.

He didn’t say anything, not being able to see his face but peeking high enough to see his Adam’s apple bob.

A couple of seconds felt like hours, and when there was absolutely no response, with your anxiety rising, you quickly tried to diffuse the situation.

“This was clearly a mistake. I’ll just go take it off—“ As you go to turn around, Hajime grips your arm.

Almost desperately. Without a single word spoken. You turn back around, scared and confused.

“Hajime?” You’re barely able to get his name out before he kisses you. Hard enough to make you stumble back into your shared bedroom, almost falling over. He’s quick to catch you though, hands immediately reaching to grab your ass, pressing so firmly

you’re sure it’ll leave marks. His mouth hasn’t left yours, completely dominating you as his tongue licks yours, making your whole body shiver. Your bodies are pressed firmly against each other, with everything happening so fast you don’t realize he had pushed you to the bed.

When his lips finally leave yours, they don’t go very far, travelling down your neck only to lick and bite at it. You could already feel the bruising happening, trying to get a word out before his fingers rubbing over your thinly clothed nipples rendered you unable to talk, only letting out surprised moans and whimpers. He plucks at them until they’re at straining attention, so sensitive you can’t stop the quakes going through your body. You start to feel hot, feeling his warmth come off in sudden waves as you feel the pressure of his chest against your stomach, realizing that he’s travelling downwards.

You aren’t given any warning before the flat of his tongue licks you. You jump up, yelping your fiancé’s name, immediately gripping his hair. This only seems to spur him on, a growl ripping through his throat, vibrating against you as he licks and sucks at your clit with such intensity. You can barely hold yourself together, grip only getting tight and you only getting louder. When he started to point his tongue to make figure eights on your pearl, you swear you began to see stars.

“Hajime—“ You whined, not being coherent enough to say anything else, beginning to feel yourself get closer to climax. With Hajime most likely sensing this, he stops, giving you the first proper look at him.

He looked crazed. More crazed than you’ve ever seen him.

His hair was destroyed (mostly your doing), eyeing you like you were a piece of meat waiting to be devoured, his mouth covered in the essence of you.

“I didn’t say you could cum.” His voice was coarse, his adam’s apple bobbing intensely and you felt yourself shiver.

Something tells you you’re going to be sore in the morning. _________________________ Hours had passed, and the two of you had finally gone to bed. At around 6 in the morning when you both had been fucking since 8 pm.

Needless to say, you were both sleeping rather soundly, in each other’s arms as the afternoon sun shone through your bedroom windows, when Hajime stirred awake from a buzzing,

Groaning, he blinked his tired eyes as he annoyedly searched for the source of the noise, finding your phone on the nightstand, buzzing in a rhythmic tune, and seeing a rubber duck appear on the screen.

Immediately, he knew who it was.

He reached over you, grabbed the phone and answered, only slightly pissed off.

“What do you want?” Issei chuckled. “Man, your morning voice is really rough [Name],” Hajime only grumbled. “You woke me up and almost woke her up. What do you want?” He repeated. Course, Issei only asked the questions that were bound to annoy Hajime. A specialty of his.

“It’s almost 1 pm, what’re you guys doing sleeping in this late?” Hajime went to answer, before going red, looking down next to you sleeping peacefully, covered in hickeys and blemishes. All caused by him.

His silence was all Issei needed.

“Enjoying our gift? Maybe we’ll grab you guys a different pair for your honeymoon?” Hajime turned red, but of course he didn’t want Issei to know that.

“Shut up.” Was all Hajime said before hanging up. Issei chuckled, looking back to Takahiro, also very amused. “I told you they would. You owe me.”