Where Every Scroll is a New Adventure
thinking about them with a super productive girlfriend.
our lazy boys who sleep until noon and don't get out of bed until they're absolutely starving or have plans in 30 minutes, meanwhile their pretty little girlfriend has been up since 6:45 and has; worked out, showered, made a good breakfast (and saved some for him too), cleaned up the kitchen and living room, and is currently on a zoom call discussing the next move in her project groups big proposal. and he's just sitting across from her at the table, eating her breakfast she made, thinking about how lucky he is to have her.
★﹒₊‧ matsukawa!bf things
matching pjs, but like subtlety.. classic white tee with matching pants (green plaid, star wars, family guy..)
teaching you to skate and going to the skate park together (firm believer in skate!rat issei)
writes you songs, but he doesn't sing them rlly l, just a rlly nice instrumental on bass or acustic
LATE night drives when he can't sleep so he drives by your house to see if your light is still on. even if it isn't he calls you anyways and ofc you answer, trying your hardest to sneak out and y'all go get some food, blast music and look at the stars until you actually start getting tired
horror fanatic. he LOVES horror movies and is NEVER phased by them, it's kinda scary that you're cowering in his side while he's just casually watching it. you swear he jumped ONCE but he says it was a shiver (it wasn't)
GOSSIPY COUPLE y'all talk hella shit abt everyone. ppl just tell the two of you stuff and y'all aren't total bitches so you keep it between y'all two but still you know all about what some fangirl tried saying to oikawa and wtv else
will go shopping w you and loves to watch you try everything on
he's like ur doll, ew that's a weird way of putting it but like he will let u do ANYTHING to him. paint his nails, dress him up, apply makeup on him, face mask, anything !!
he loves to bake with you. he can't bake at all but one day he brought cupcake mix to your house and y'all just started making it, but now he likes to make everything from scratch and he's gotten pretty good over time
he really likes when you read to him. it could be the most boring ass book, his words, but hearing it from you just eases him (?)
♥︎author note: sorry this may be messy i did this in the last 10 minutes of my ceramics class
Matsukawa’s fingers have always been dangerous—long, skilled, patient. The kind of touch that never rushes, never fumbles—always intentional, always knowing exactly how to pull you apart.
And right now, he’s enjoying himself.
“Fuck, babe,” he murmurs, his deep voice laced with amusement as his fingers curl inside you just right. His other hand rests lazily against your thigh, keeping it spread while his dark, hooded gaze drinks you in. “You’re really soaking my hand like this?”
You don’t even have the breath to answer—not when his pace is slow, teasing, deliberate. Each drag of his fingers sends pleasure curling up your spine, each flick against that sweet spot making your thighs twitch.
Matsukawa just smirks. He likes seeing you like this—messy, desperate, coming undone because of him.
He drags his fingers out almost completely before sinking them back in with an infuriatingly slow roll of his wrist, the slick sound of your arousal making his smirk widen. “Hear that?” he murmurs, voice thick with amusement. “So fucking wet for me.”
His fingers work in deeper this time, curling just so, rubbing in slow, purposeful strokes against that sensitive spot that makes your breath stutter. He watches your face, reveling in the way your brows pinch, your lips parting in a desperate little gasp.
"You can take it," he coaxes, thumb circling your clit in lazy, wet strokes. "I know you can."
He starts a rhythm—his fingers thrusting deep, dragging back, his thumb applying just the right amount of pressure. The sensations build in slow waves, each motion pulling you higher, tightening the coil in your belly until it’s unbearable.
Your back arches, a choked moan slipping past your lips. He hums at the sound, clearly pleased, and then—he speeds up.
The shift is devastating—his fingers pumping harder, his thumb pressing just a little firmer, dragging you toward the edge so effortlessly it makes your head spin. He angles his wrist slightly, pressing his fingers deeper, rubbing in steady strokes that make your whole body tighten.
“Shit—Issei—”
“Yeah?” His grin is slow, teasing, as he leans in, lips grazing the inside of your knee. “You close, baby? Feels like you’re about to—”
He shifts again, pressing the heel of his palm against your clit, working you with practiced ease, and that’s all it takes. Your stomach tenses, pleasure snapping through you like a lightning strike.
You cry out as the pressure inside you snaps, your whole body tensing as pleasure crashes over you—white-hot, overwhelming, electric.
Matsukawa groans as you clench around his fingers, but he doesn't stop.
"That's it," he praises, still working you through it, his voice dropping to a rasp. "Fuck, that's so hot."
Your body jerks as another wave builds too fast, too intense—your moan cuts off into a strangled whimper as the overstimulation crashes through you, and suddenly—
"Ohh, shit—look at that."
Heat floods your face as pleasure rips through you again, liquid gushing over his hand, dripping onto the sheets. Your thighs shake, muscles spasming, your breath coming in ragged gasps as your body writhes in the aftershocks. A strangled whimper escapes you, your legs instinctively trying to close, but Matsukawa's firm grip keeps them spread. Your fingers clutch desperately at the sheets, your body trembling, overwhelmed and spent.
Matsukawa just watches—his tongue flicking over his lips, his expression damn near predatory.
"Fuck," he breathes, finally slowing his movements, letting you collapse against the bed. His fingers slip out of you, glistening, and he hums, clearly impressed.
"Didn't know you could do that, babe," he muses, bringing his soaked fingers to his lips, licking them clean with a smirk. "But now that I do…"
He leans down, voice dropping to a wicked whisper.
"Bet I can make you do it again."