Matsukawa Issei - Blog Posts

i forgot to post these, but seijoh 4 hanafuda set that were turned into stickers for the hq sticker book project!!

Seijoh 4!!

To the two people who wanted to see Makki and Mattsun in my style (I genuinely didn't know what to draw for them) so I hope this is fine LMAO

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.

big and bad (pt. 2)

pairing: matsukawa issei x f!reader

summary: the woods are a dark place.

genre: fantasy

word count: 2.9K

warnings: 18+, dubcon in the beginning, oral (m. receiving), vaginal s3cs, slight size kink, breeding

author’s note: here’s part 2 of my HQHQ server collab! i recommend reading part one so you have plot because otherwise this is just,, pwp LOL anyways, hope you guys enjoy!

as always, shoutout to @atsumuse and @samuslut for being real g’s and supporting me, ily guys (ew gross being soft on main? blegh)

* please blacklist #hrnybbg if you are under the age of 18!

part one.

Keep reading

big and bad.

pairing: matsukawa issei x reader

summary: the woods are a dark place.

genre: fantasy

word count: 1.6K

warnings: i didn’t have this beta’d and this was completed at 5:30am so there might be mistakes but uh, none otherwise that i can think of (but please message me to correct me)

author’s note: heyo! 🤪 I’m back with another HQHQ server collab fic! you can check out the other amazing writers’ works here! i have our dear mattsun for both collabs (and both parts are now posted)!! n e ways as always, I hope you guys enjoy! 💕

part two (18+)

Keep reading

matsukawa + mark him? >:33

KNEE DEEP IN THE PASSENGER SEAT.

matsukawa issei x reader — 2k, suggestive, marking, hickeys, kissing, friends to lovers, seijoh 4 banter

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Matsukawa groans, pinching the bridge of his nose and scrubbing a hand down his face.

He takes a peek over at you where you’re sitting beside him cross-legged on Oikawa’s living room floor, back against the couch, as if to say, please back me up here.

You shrug, looking at Hanamaki. “I mean Mattsun hates her, it’s not like we have to worry about him relapsing back into the most toxic relationship of his life because she just so happens to be going to the same party as us tonight.”

Makki groans loudly, placing his drink on the coffee table with a little more force than necessary. Iwaizumi glances up from scrolling through his phone, brow raised.

“That’s not the problem,” Makki sighs, tracing a finger through the wet ring of condensation left behind on the table’s surface from the last time that he moved his can.

Oikawa smacks his hand, and Makki mutters something under his breath before pulling down the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe it up, and Iwaizumi barely glances his way as he flicks a coaster toward him. 

“I’m not going to talk to her,” Matsukawa adds, reaching over to pick a piece of lint off of your top.

Fingers threading into his pale pink tresses, Makki glares at him. “That’s my point. You’re going to ignore her all night—rightfully so, she’s an evil witch and I will disown you if you so much as think about making her my girlfriend in-law again—”

Iwaizumi cuts him off, “What the fuck is a girlfriend in-law?”

Matsukawa blinks, “I don’t think that’s how you use that word—”

“ANYWAY, you’re going to ignore her, and she’s going to spend all night stalking around the perimeter of our group like a bloodthirsty wolf—”

“I need you to stop finding a way to insert a Twilight reference into every conversation—” Iwaizumi mutters.

“How the fuck is that Twilight? Can everyone stop interrupting me? Mattsun, for fuck’s sake. She cornered me outside the bathroom at Yahaba’s last time and spent twenty minutes trying to Sherlock Holmes her way into finding out where your dick’s been lately…” He trails off, eyes going wide as he turns to look at you.

Your heart rocks violently in your chest at the implication, and you valiantly fight the urge to cast an accusing glance Oikawa’s way. 

Because he’s the only one that knows you’re in love with Mattsun.

And if he told Iwaizumi and Iwaizumi told Makki and now Makki’s about to—

You’re going to be sick.

Probably.

Maybe.

Not right here though, because throwing up on Oikawa’s new shag carpet (despite the fact that it’s the ugliest thing you’ve ever seen) inches away from Mattsun’s feet would make this the most mortifying moment of your life.

(Not that it won’t be a record-breaking runner-up either way.)

Iwaizumi speaks up suddenly, a surprisingly thoughtful look on his face. “She was always paranoid that the two of you were hooking up.”

You steal a quick glance Oikawa’s way, and he subtly shakes his head. 

He didn’t say anything.

He might be insufferable most days, but you’ve been friends with him longer than anyone else in this room, and he knows what this secret means to you—

But still, Iwaizumi’s statement is news to you. It’s completely and entirely false and nothing more than a headline from your pathetic reoccurring dreams.

And it’s dizzying, the way your chest lurches as it sinks in.

Mattsun coughs.

“She what?” you squeak out. 

Makki’s answering grin is downright predatory.

-

Ten minutes later, you’re sitting in front of Matsukawa trying to stave off the flood of warmth that blooms in your gut under the steady weight of his gaze. He runs a hand through his hair, eyes briefly darting somewhere beyond your shoulder—probably to look at Hanamaki.

“We have to leave soon, chop chop.” Speak of the fucking devil.

You swallow as your throat goes impossibly dry. “Can’t we just like, hold hands?” you ask the pink-haired imp.

“Holding hands is easy, a fool’s errand,” he sighs dramatically. Like he’s reading a goddamn Shakespearean monologue. “A trashy hickey is forever.”

“A week, two tops,” Iwaizumi corrects him in a bored tone.

Oikawa sounds downright gleeful as he asks, “How would you know, Iwa-chan?”

Iwaizumi grunts something back, but you don’t hear him over the sound of Mattsun’s voice. “You don’t have to—”

Makki huffs in annoyance, throwing the small metal tab from his drink can at him, and Matsukawa catches it without looking.

“She’s going to see the two of you together at the party, and she’s going to see the big, sexy, dirty hickey on Mattsun’s neck like a big, obnoxious billboard—”

“I know a big, obnoxious billboard alright,” Mattsun mutters, only loud enough so that you can hear, and you snort.

“—and she’s going to finally accept the fact that our dear, precious Issei wants nothing to do with her wicked, scheming ways, because he’s actually madly, deeply, passionately in love with—”

Mattsun’s head jerks up, eyes a little wide, but you don’t have time to contemplate the look that crosses his face when Makki’s suddenly cut off. Turning your head slightly, you catch sight of Oikawa tackling him to the ground.

Iwaizumi sighs, staring at them with all the interest of a man watching two bugs fighting in the dirt before returning his attention to his phone.

You look at Matsukawa again, taking the inner edge of your bottom lip between your teeth. “Where should I….”

He breathes in slowly, eyes searching yours for a moment before he tips his head slightly, baring the left side of his neck. And if that’s not enough to have sweat collecting in the center of your palms, you momentarily forget how to breathe when he spreads his legs, silently beckoning you to slip between them.

Warmth slides down your spine at how unnervingly natural it feels to crawl between Matsukawa’s legs, to put something into practice that you’ve unfortunately imagined more times and in more ways than you can count. 

There’s a brief moment where you wonder why you didn’t just remain sitting beside him, why you didn’t just lean in sideways and carry this out in a far more platonic position—

But then his hand brushes somewhere in the vicinity of your outer thigh, and all you can smell is the familiar scent of his laundry detergent, and suddenly you find that your lips are hovering barely three inches away from the smooth expanse of skin that makes up the side of his neck.

And Mattsun mistakes your hesitation for something else, a warm laugh rumbling in his chest and brushing down your spine. “Bite as hard as you want, I like it rough.”

You know he’s joking. 

He’s trying to lighten the moment, to make you laugh. 

To stave off the awkward hesitation that’s probably written across every facet of your body language.

—but all it does is turn the heat churning in your gut positively molten as his words confirm something you already had a feeling was true.

(Something that has your thigh muscles instinctively trembling as you fight the urge to squeeze them together at the thought.)

Matsukawa tenses beneath you for a moment when your lips meet his neck, and you stiffen in turn, waiting for the inevitable regret, the unrequited rejection…

His hand slides up your nape, cupping the back of your head in a way that he likely thinks is reassuring (in a way that’s going to probably ruin you forever after this.)

“Just do it,” he encourages you.

So you do. 

And you don’t mean to get so into it.

But there’s a starved, unreasonable part of your brain that takes over when you start to bite and suck at Matsukawa’s neck, alternating between rolling his skin between your lips and teeth and running your tongue over it after. 

Every other bit of uncertainty fades into background noise when you feel Matsukawa react. When his shoulders go pliant, when his head tilts even more to the side—baring himself to you even further. When you swear you feel him push down on your head like he wants you to go harder.

When his free arm wraps around your waist and clutches your hip.

When his thighs press against you, caging you in (and there’s a delirious, faraway laugh that bubbles up in the back of your head as you imagine that he’s holding you there, that he doesn’t want you to stop).

When you bite and suck and lick and—

—and he fucking groans.

“Should we really be watching—” you think you hear Oikawa ask from somewhere behind you, followed by a yelp from him and a grunt from Iwaizumi.

Matsukawa’s exhale is downright ragged when you pull back slightly to observe your work, fingers clutching his shirt in an attempt to hide the way your hands are trembling.

“Should I—” you start, more than a little breathless and not exactly sure what you even intend to ask as you stare down at the bruise that’s already blooming against his skin.

Something possessive yawns awake inside of you, and you try to suppress the full-body shiver that dances down your nerves like spider silk.

Matsukawa stares at you for a beat, chest rising and falling, and he looks—

He tilts his head the other way. “Just in case,” he explains, his voice like gravel.

This time, you hear the sound of footsteps padding across the floor and the patio door sliding open, and the room goes quiet other than the sound of your breathing as you press your lips to the opposite side of Matsukawa’s neck.

He inhales sharply, and you momentarily find yourself lost to the pull of gravity as he fully reclines with his back against the carpet and pulls you directly on top of him.

Your heart thunders in your chest as you realize that you’re now fully straddling Mattsun, fingers somehow finding their way in his dark, messy curls as you mouth at his skin in an attempt to match your first canvas. One of his large hands slides across your lower back, and scorching heat blooms through your shirt under the deceiving weight of his touch.

He breathes out your name, the sound reverberating in your eardrums alongside the sound of rushing blood, and he cups your cheek as you stare down at him, faces scant centimeters apart.

Your eyes dart to his lips, to the way they’re parted slightly, and it takes everything in your power not to wholly collapse into him like a dying star taking its last brilliant breath when his thumb carefully strokes the hinge of your jaw.

He glances at your mouth in turn.

“I don’t think that’ll leave a mark—” you weakly start to joke.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

You swallow. “I guess we should test it out, just to see…”

Matsukawa stares up at you. “Do you want to?” It’s a loaded question.

“Yes,” you whisper.

Your lips have barely finished forming the word before Matsukawa flips you over without warning and pins you beneath him on the carpet, his mouth crashing into yours.

You’re oddly thankful for the plush embrace of Oikawa’s ugly carpet as you sink into it, trapped between the multi-color fibers and the all-encompassing warmth of everywhere Matsukawa’s body is flush with yours.

An embarrassingly needy sound crawls up your throat when his tongue darts across the seam of your lips before slipping into your mouth to deepen the kiss. You unconsciously start to card your fingers through his soft hair and he groans into your mouth in turn, leaving a sticky trail of saliva between your lips with each slick, hungry kiss he presses to them.

“Hey, we should probably get go—” the patio door slides open, and Makki’s voice floats into the room.

Iwaizumi barks something at him, and the door slams shut, cutting off the sound of their bickering as Oikawa laughs.

But you can hardly hear it—

Mattsun’s lips slow against yours, and he pulls back slightly, only to lean back in and press another lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Hi,” he says.

You blink up at him, reaching a hand up to rest against his jaw, your thumb just barely skirting his bottom lip. He gently bites the tip of it.

“Hi,” you whisper back.

matsukawa and hanamaki are equivalent to mordecai and rigby

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.

EVERYONE SHUT UP AND LOOK AT HOW PRETTY HE IS

cant get motorcycle gang member issei outta my head.

Official art of Seijoh 4 in 2025 my heart is so full

seijoh 4 as summer camp employees

hanamaki takahiro is BUILT for this he has fun hair he’s weird he’s engaging his he’s colorful his water bottle is covered in stickers he has sandals on toes Out he is shameless he’s kinda unhinged it so works. he’s a counselor but almost never has a cabin to himself he’s more like a sub if someone else has gets sick or whatever but when he shows up it’s like a celebrity sighting a monumentous occasion. if he’s not needed anywhere else he’s helping out with arts and crafts his favorite artworks are the ones where you can’t tell what the fuck it’s supposed to be. he has lots of string friendship bracelets he knows how to make them but lies whenever someone asks he just gives them one he gatekeeps cuz he thinks it’s funny and teaching is too much work. he tells the most Outrageous ghost stories and is the reason only half of the kids will go in the lake he talks about bigfoot and campers who went missing and the town’s curse he is carrying on legacies he is SO fun.

iwaizumi hajime is the Coolest fucking counselor ever. bandana around his head sleeves cut off of the uniform tshirt (muscle tee now) he has friendship bracelets a beat up watch one anklet his water bottle is on its last leg he has a dinosaur keychain on his backpack he like epitomizes cool guy the kids idolize him. his cabin wins every single camp-wide competition every time like he’s peak athleticism and he’s just like so awesome or whatever it’s contagious. he picks kids up and throws them in the lake and pool if a frisbee gets stuck in a tree he gets it every time he caught a snake once and took it back to the woods everyone wants to sit next to him in the mess hall he can’t build a fire and is mad about it he sleeps like a fucking Rock and snores like a lawnmower and eats enough for 3 people at every meal.

oikawa tooru is a lifeguard. at the pool at the lake he’s always around the water somehow and Everyone has a crush on him. up on his lifeguard chair sunglasses on his skin is all golden whistle around his neck or spinning on his finger his hair somehow always looks good he wears a headband one day and someone literally faints. he teaches swimming and canoeing lessons and is really good at it he almost Never has to save anyone for someone who works by the water you’d think they’d swim a little more. he’s pretty quiet when he’s on duty he takes the job seriously but he’s a fucking motormouth when he’s off that chair he will Not shut up. he sits w the boys at meals running that fucking mouth pisses them off So Bad he blatantly flirts/fights with iwaizumi when the kids aren’t around and Refuses to get into a canoe with him bc it always ends up getting flipped. he’s really good with the younger kids they’re his favorite to work with but he is generally well liked throughout the camp he’s like everyone’s counselor crush and he always eats raisin bran for breakfast.

matsukawa issei is the camp cryptid he works with the older kids who like go backpacking and spend all their time in the woods he emerges looking like he’s been there all his life. he kinda just appears sometimes doing odd jobs taking things to the lost and found feeding the chickens fishing things out of the lake general camp maintenance he materializes out of the trees with a fire extinguisher a neon yellow backpack and a missing camper. he’s often accompanied by the camp dog so there are theories (encouraged by takahiro) that he’s actually a werewolf and that’s why he’s everywhere some people think he is the camp dog issei thinks this is very funny. the only place he’s consistently found is the mess hall at meals otherwise when not wandering or in the forest he can be found hanging out with hiro coming up with new ghost stories playing some sort of sport with hajime or pouring water on tooru’s head wherever he happens to be. issei is the best campfire builder on the property and some of the kids are scared of him he never has his phone can only be contacted by walkie-talkie he is the jack of all trades.

seijoh 4 as summer camp employees

hanamaki takahiro is BUILT for this he has fun hair he’s weird he’s engaging his he’s colorful his water bottle is covered in stickers he has sandals on toes Out he is shameless he’s kinda unhinged it so works. he’s a counselor but almost never has a cabin to himself he’s more like a sub if someone else has gets sick or whatever but when he shows up it’s like a celebrity sighting a monumentous occasion. if he’s not needed anywhere else he’s helping out with arts and crafts his favorite artworks are the ones where you can’t tell what the fuck it’s supposed to be. he has lots of string friendship bracelets he knows how to make them but lies whenever someone asks he just gives them one he gatekeeps cuz he thinks it’s funny and teaching is too much work. he tells the most Outrageous ghost stories and is the reason only half of the kids will go in the lake he talks about bigfoot and campers who went missing and the town’s curse he is carrying on legacies he is SO fun.

iwaizumi hajime is the Coolest fucking counselor ever. bandana around his head sleeves cut off of the uniform tshirt (muscle tee now) he has friendship bracelets a beat up watch one anklet his water bottle is on its last leg he has a dinosaur keychain on his backpack he like epitomizes cool guy the kids idolize him. his cabin wins every single camp-wide competition every time like he’s peak athleticism and he’s just like so awesome or whatever it’s contagious. he picks kids up and throws them in the lake and pool if a frisbee gets stuck in a tree he gets it every time he caught a snake once and took it back to the woods everyone wants to sit next to him in the mess hall he can’t build a fire and is mad about it he sleeps like a fucking Rock and snores like a lawnmower and eats enough for 3 people at every meal.

oikawa tooru is a lifeguard. at the pool at the lake he’s always around the water somehow and Everyone has a crush on him. up on his lifeguard chair sunglasses on his skin is all golden whistle around his neck or spinning on his finger his hair somehow always looks good he wears a headband one day and someone literally faints. he teaches swimming and canoeing lessons and is really good at it he almost Never has to save anyone for someone who works by the water you’d think they’d swim a little more. he’s pretty quiet when he’s on duty he takes the job seriously but he’s a fucking motormouth when he’s off that chair he will Not shut up. he sits w the boys at meals running that fucking mouth pisses them off So Bad he blatantly flirts/fights with iwaizumi when the kids aren’t around and Refuses to get into a canoe with him bc it always ends up getting flipped. he’s really good with the younger kids they’re his favorite to work with but he is generally well liked throughout the camp he’s like everyone’s counselor crush and he always eats raisin bran for breakfast.

matsukawa issei is the camp cryptid he works with the older kids who like go backpacking and spend all their time in the woods he emerges looking like he’s been there all his life. he kinda just appears sometimes doing odd jobs taking things to the lost and found feeding the chickens fishing things out of the lake general camp maintenance he materializes out of the trees with a fire extinguisher a neon yellow backpack and a missing camper. he’s often accompanied by the camp dog so there are theories (encouraged by takahiro) that he’s actually a werewolf and that’s why he’s everywhere some people think he is the camp dog issei thinks this is very funny. the only place he’s consistently found is the mess hall at meals otherwise when not wandering or in the forest he can be found hanging out with hiro coming up with new ghost stories playing some sort of sport with hajime or pouring water on tooru’s head wherever he happens to be. issei is the best campfire builder on the property and some of the kids are scared of him he never has his phone can only be contacted by walkie-talkie he is the jack of all trades.

Managerial Duties: Aoba Johsai

Aoba Johsai’s volleyball team was many things—talented, competitive, and, above all, nosy. But when it came to you, their manager, they had collectively accepted one simple fact: you lived in oversized, comfortable clothing.

Baggy sweatpants, hoodies, loose athletic shirts—if it wasn’t designed for maximum comfort, you didn’t wear it. Even during official team meetings outside of school, you opted for relaxed attire: a sweatshirt over leggings, sneakers, and maybe a jacket if it was cold. It wasn’t that you disliked fashion, exactly. You just didn’t see the need to dress up for them.

So when you casually mentioned you had to leave practice early for a family event, no one thought much of it.

"Skipping out on us?" Oikawa teased, tossing a volleyball in the air as you packed up your clipboard. "And here I thought we were your favorite people in the world."

"You’re absolutely not," you deadpanned, adjusting the strap on your bag.

"What’s the occasion?" Iwaizumi asked, more genuinely curious.

"Wedding," you muttered. "Family thing. My parents are making me go."

Matsukawa, stretching lazily, smirked. "That why you’re sneaking off?"

"Something like that," you grumbled, crossing your arms. "They’re making me wear this stupid dress. It’s all tight and uncomfortable, and the shoes are even worse. Who the hell decided that formalwear should be painful?"

Hanamaki raised an eyebrow. "What’s it look like?"

You groaned, already dreading the memory of trying it on. "It’s one of those straight-jacket ones that make you feel like you can’t breathe. Apparently, looking ‘put together’ is more important than basic human comfort. I swear, my mom picked this just to torture me."

"Sounds fancy," Watari mused.

"Sounds awful," you corrected. "I’m gonna suffer through this thing and then burn it the second I get home."

"Bet you’ll look nice, though," Kindaichi added hesitantly, rubbing the back of his neck.

You gave him a deadpan look. "If you call suffering looking nice, sure. Anyway, I’ll see you guys at the next practice. Don’t destroy the gym while I’m gone."

"No promises!" Hanamaki called as you walked off.

That was the end of it.

Practice was still in full swing when you stepped back into the gym, freshly changed and already regretting every single life choice that had led you to this moment. You had only come back because you’d stupidly left your phone on the bench, a mistake that now seemed far worse than just being phoneless for a few hours. The team was scattered across the court, finishing up drills and cooldowns, their chatter filling the space as they moved around. You had hoped—prayed, even—that you could slip in, grab your phone, and leave unnoticed. But fate, as always, was cruel.

Then you stepped forward.

And the entire gym stopped dead in its tracks.

Oikawa, who had been mid-sentence, visibly choked. His water bottle slipped from his hand, clattering to the floor.

"Holy shit," Matsukawa whispered, not even trying to be subtle.

Iwaizumi, caught off guard, blinked hard, as if his brain needed an extra second to process what was happening. Yahaba, who had been chatting with Kunimi, turned so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash, mouth opening but no words coming out. Kunimi, usually too lazy to react to anything, actually paused, his usual indifferent stare slightly wider than normal.

Even Kyotani, who rarely paid attention to anything that wasn’t volleyball or fighting, furrowed his brows, looking between you and the rest of the team like he had just walked into some elaborate prank. After a long pause, he finally muttered, "Why do you look like that?"

You shifted uncomfortably, hating every second of this. "My God. Can you guys stop staring?"

"We can’t," Watari blurted, sounding just as shocked as the rest.

Because, for the first time since they had met you, you weren’t wearing your usual baggy, oversized clothing. You weren’t hidden under loose layers of fabric that swallowed your frame. No, today, you had been dressed by your mother, which meant you were in something far more… put together.

The dress was sleek and form-fitting, something you never would have picked for yourself. The fabric hugged your silhouette in a way that felt unfamiliar, and you had spent the entire night feeling like you were playing dress-up in someone else’s clothes. To make matters worse, your mother had insisted on makeup—subtle, but noticeable enough to make you feel even less like yourself. The heels were even worse—unsteady, impractical, and making you curse whoever thought fancy shoes should hurt.

"Why—how—what?!" Kindaichi, who had been stretching, nearly tipped over from shock.

"Is that you?" Hanamaki added, pointing unnecessarily.

"No," you deadpanned. "I’m an imposter. The real me is at the wedding, plotting my escape."

"Hah—seriously, though! You clean up nice," Matsukawa mused, looking you up and down with a smirk. "Didn’t know you had it in you."

"No one did," Yahaba muttered, still looking at you like you had just shapeshifted before his eyes. "What the hell."

"I don’t," you grumbled, adjusting the hem of the dress uncomfortably. "My parents picked this out. Not my choice."

"Your parents should pick your outfits more often," Oikawa said before immediately ducking as Iwaizumi chucked a towel at his head.

Kunimi let out a short exhale. "So that’s what was under all those sweatpants. Huh."

Kyotani just grunted, arms crossed. "Tch. Whatever. Doesn’t change anything." But the way he kept glancing at you said otherwise.

"And that’s why I dress the way I do," you huffed.

Sensing your growing discomfort, Iwaizumi sighed, running a hand down his face. "Alright, that’s enough. Stop freaking out."

"I am freaking out," Oikawa retorted. "This is earth-shattering news."

"You’re an idiot," Iwaizumi muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You love me," Oikawa shot back, undeterred.

"I don’t," Iwaizumi deadpanned.

You exhaled, already exhausted. "Okay, I’m leaving now. If anyone makes another comment, I swear I’m quitting this team."

"No, wait!" Oikawa called. "Just one picture—"

You shot him a withering glare that promised pain if he continued that sentence. He wisely shut up.

With that, you turned on your heel and left, still muttering under your breath about hating dresses, hating heels, and how you were never letting your mother pick your outfits again. Behind you, the team was still buzzing, voices overlapping as they tried to make sense of what had just happened.

Matsukawa let out a low whistle. "Damn. We’re never gonna see that again, are we?"

"Nope," Hanamaki sighed. "Should’ve taken that picture."

"So we had a hot manager this whole time?" Yahaba muttered, still looking at where you stood like he was processing a cosmic revelation.

Oikawa, arms crossed, hummed thoughtfully. "Iwa-chan, do you think we could convince her to dress up again?"

Iwaizumi didn’t even hesitate. "No."

Rivalry: Oikawa

Oikawa Tooru was used to attention.

From the moment he stepped onto the court, eyes followed. Girls sighed when he passed by in the hallways, classmates lit up when he so much as looked in their direction. He had charm, he had skill, and he had a smile that could make anyone—anyone—melt.

Except for the manager.

And it drove him insane.

When she became Seijoh’s team manager, Oikawa expected the usual routine. A few flustered glances, maybe a nervous stammer or two when he spoke to her. Instead? She barely gave him the time of day. Her eyes never lingered, her voice stayed firm, and when he flashed one of his award-winning smiles, she only responded with a flat, unimpressed stare.

At first, it was amusing. A fun little challenge. But as weeks passed, that amusement turned to frustration. Why wasn’t she falling for him like everyone else? Why did it feel like the harder he tried, the more indifferent she became? It was unnatural—Oikawa had spent years perfecting the art of attention, the delicate balance of charm and arrogance that made people gravitate toward him. And yet, she stood there, unmoved, like he was just another player on the team.

It gnawed at him. It wasn’t just that she ignored his flirtation—it was that she treated him exactly the same as she treated everyone else. It made him feel… ordinary.

Oikawa made it a point to test her patience.

“Manager-chan, be honest,” Oikawa mused lazily, twirling a volleyball between his fingers, his tone laced with smug amusement. "Do you ever get tired of pretending you’re immune to my charm?"

She didn’t even look up from her clipboard, her fingers flying across the page as she made notes. "Do you ever get tired of being a desperate attention-seeker?"

Iwaizumi choked on his water, while Hanamaki and Matsukawa outright cackled, exchanging wide-eyed looks of glee. Even Kyōtani, who usually ignored their antics, raised an eyebrow, glancing up from his shoe-lacing. Oikawa, however, was left standing there, momentarily stunned by the sheer disrespect.

“That was uncalled for,” he gasped, clutching his chest as if mortally wounded.

She finally spared him a glance, her gaze flat and unimpressed. "So is your existence, and yet, here we are."

The team erupted. Hanamaki practically slid to the floor from laughing too hard, Matsukawa was bent over the bench wheezing, and even Iwaizumi wiped a hand over his face, shaking his head. "She’s got a point, though."

Oikawa scowled, gripping the volleyball just a little too tight. "Unbelievable. I slave away on the court, leading this team, and this is the gratitude I get? A cruel, heartless manager who refuses to appreciate my many, many talents."

"Oh, I appreciate your talents," she responded coolly, flipping to another page in her notebook. "Just not the ones you want me to."

His mouth opened, then closed, irritation flickering behind his eyes. She had played him—so effortlessly, so ruthlessly, and in front of the whole team, no less. He hated how easily she dismissed him, like he was some annoying background noise. It wasn’t just about her brushing off his flirting anymore—he wanted to rattle her, to break through that ridiculous indifference she seemed to have toward him.

And for the first time in a long while, Oikawa didn’t know how to win.

And that was how it started.

Oikawa made it his personal mission to get a reaction out of her. He turned up the charm, exaggerating his requests, leaving his jersey in the most inconvenient places just to force her to interact with him. And through it all, she remained perfectly unbothered.

Which only made things worse.

During practice, Oikawa's patience had started to fray. What once had been playful teasing was now laced with something sharper, something almost mean. He leaned in too close, his voice lower, more clipped. "You work so hard, manager-chan. Doesn’t it ever get exhausting pretending I don’t bother you?"

She barely spared him a glance. "Not nearly as exhausting as listening to you grasp at straws for my attention."

His fingers twitched at his sides, irritation flaring. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to be the one getting under her skin—not the other way around.. Whenever she’d pass by with the clipboard, he’d throw an arm over her shoulder, lean in just a little too close, and sigh dramatically. "You work so hard, manager-chan. Doesn’t it ever get tiring, pretending you don’t like me?"

"Not as tiring as listening to you talk," she quipped back, shaking him off effortlessly.

That made the rest of the team howl with laughter, much to Oikawa’s dismay.

But the more she dismissed him, the more he found himself noticing her.

How she always had a spare towel ready for anyone who needed it, how her lips twitched when she held back a smile, how she somehow always knew exactly where to be, exactly what needed to be done. The way she’d mutter under her breath when the gym got too chaotic, how she pushed her sleeves up to her elbows when she was in full focus mode.

Even worse, he noticed that she laughed at other people’s jokes. Not his.

It was infuriating.

The way she treated him—like he was just another player, no more important than anyone else—made something coil tight in his chest. It was wrong. He should matter.

As the season went on, their dynamic became something of a spectacle. Matsukawa and Hanamaki kept a running tally on how many times Oikawa failed to get a reaction from her. Even Kyōtani, normally disinterested in team antics, had muttered once, "Why does he even care?"

Practice was no different.

One day, he strolled in late, expecting to slide by unnoticed. Instead, the manager barely glanced up from her clipboard before sighing dramatically.

"And the king has graced us with his presence," she drawled, flipping a page without looking up. "Should we all kneel? Maybe throw some rose petals while we're at it?"

Oikawa's expression twitched. His fingers flexed around the strap of his bag before he forced a scoff. "You wound me, manager-chan. I’d expect at least a little appreciation for my presence."

She finally looked at him, unimpressed. "I’d appreciate it more if you actually showed up on time."

The snickers from the team were immediate. Matsukawa nudged Hanamaki, both grinning like they had front-row seats to the best show in town. Iwaizumi just shook his head, barely hiding his smirk.

Oikawa exhaled through his nose, jaw clenching slightly before he tilted his head, voice dropping just a fraction. "Careful, manager-chan. One of these days, someone’s going to mistake that attitude of yours for something else."

She arched a brow. "Oh? And what’s that?"

"Repressed admiration." His smirk was sharp, eyes locked on hers like he was waiting—daring her to react.

She let a slow smirk creep onto her face. "That’s funny. I was thinking the same thing about you."

Oikawa stiffened for a half-second. It was barely noticeable, but she caught it. And it infuriated him.

Hanamaki snorted. Matsukawa muttered a quiet "brutal" under his breath, and Iwaizumi, ever the opportunist, smirked as he crossed his arms. "Yeah, Oikawa. You expecting a parade or something?"

Oikawa rolled his eyes, adjusting the strap of his bag. "I was—"

"Stretching starts now," she cut him off smoothly, pointing at the mats without even sparing him a second look. "If Iwaizumi yells at you for skipping, I’m certainly not covering for you."

Iwaizumi clapped a hand on Oikawa’s back, grinning. "Yeah, Shittykawa, stretching starts now."

Oikawa groaned, tossing his head back dramatically. "You just like bossing me around."

"Someone has to." She finally looked at him, gaze neutral, unimpressed. Then, before he could respond, she turned and walked off, already shifting her attention to something else, like he wasn’t even worth her time.

He scowled. Why did it feel like he lost that exchange?

The next few weeks were much of the same. The team noticed, amused by the ongoing battle. They weren’t even subtle about it anymore.

"Oikawa, just accept defeat," Matsukawa teased one afternoon, leaning against the gym wall as he watched her deep in conversation with Iwaizumi, clipboard in hand, discussing strategy. She was nodding at something Iwaizumi said, her brow furrowed in concentration, flipping a page in her notes. Oikawa barely heard the words being exchanged, too focused on the way she looked—completely absorbed in the discussion, giving Iwaizumi the full weight of her attention. It was so effortless for her, this back-and-forth, the way she actually cared about his vice-captain’s input, about the game.

His grip on the volleyball tightened. Why did it feel like she never talked to him like that? "She’s immune. It’s kind of inspiring."

Oikawa scoffed, crossing his arms. "I will win. Just wait."

But the truth was, it wasn’t about winning anymore. It wasn’t about charming her or getting a reaction—Oikawa realized, somewhere between watching her scribble notes on the clipboard and catching glimpses of her tying her hair back, that he wanted her attention. He wanted her to look at him the way she looked at the others, wanted to hear her laugh because of him.

And that was unacceptable.

The breaking point finally came after a game.

The team had secured another victory, but the entire time, Oikawa’s mind wasn’t on the match. It wasn’t on his perfectly placed serves, on the points he racked up, or even on the cheers from the crowd.

It was on her.

She had celebrated, high-fiving Kyōtani, clapping Iwaizumi on the back, beaming as she praised the team for their effort. The smile she wore was bright, uninhibited, the kind of happiness he had never seen from her before. She was laughing—actually laughing—carefree and glowing as if this win meant the world to her.

And she hadn’t looked at him once.

He hated it.

Hated how effortless it was for her to shower attention on everyone else, how easily she smiled at them, joked with them, treated them as if they were worth her time. But him? She barely acknowledged his existence, acting as if he was nothing more than a passing nuisance.

His grip on his jersey tightened. Something inside him burned, sharp and unsettled, curling hot in his chest like an ember waiting to catch fire. It wasn’t fair. He had worked harder than anyone for this win, pushed himself beyond exhaustion to make sure they came out on top. And yet, when she smiled, when she laughed—it wasn’t because of him.

And that was the moment Oikawa snapped.

So when he saw her alone in the hallway after the match, clipboard in hand, he didn’t think.

"Why do you act like that?" His voice was tight, laced with frustration that he couldn't contain anymore.

She glanced up, brow raised. "Act like what?"

Oikawa stepped closer, his jaw clenching, heat simmering beneath his skin. "Like I’m nothing. Like I don’t exist. You joke with them, you celebrate with them, but with me? It’s like I could disappear and you wouldn’t even notice."

Her smirk was slow, taunting. "Oh, is that what this is about? You need me to fawn over you like everyone else? Poor Oikawa. Is it finally sinking in that I don’t care about stroking your over-inflated ego?"

His eyes darkened. "That’s not—"

She cut him off, stepping forward so the space between them all but disappeared. "You think I didn't know about you before I joined the team? You think I didn't know you'd try with me? I will not swoon and kiss your feet, Tooru."

Oikawa opened his mouth, but the words tangled. He wanted to refute it, to tell her it wasn’t about that, but the way she was looking at him—bold, unshaken, challenging—knocked the thoughts from his head.

He groaned in frustration, fingers twitching at his sides before he finally gave up fighting it. Before she could say another word, his hands shot up, gripping her waist as he yanked her toward him, lips crashing into hers.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t careful. It was messy, desperate, filled with months—years—of unresolved tension. His fingers curled against her hips, pulling her closer, his kiss carrying the weight of everything he couldn’t say. It was a demand, a declaration, a fight in its own right.

And the worst part? She kissed him back.

Her fingers curled into his jersey, yanking him closer as if daring him to take it further. He could feel her heartbeat, hammering against his own, and suddenly, nothing else mattered—not the game, not the team, not the rivalry that had defined them for so long.

Just him.

Just her.

When he finally pulled away, both of them breathless, Oikawa rested his forehead against hers, his hands still gripping her waist. He exhaled sharply, lips curving into something between a smirk and disbelief.

"You looked at me just now," he murmured, voice rough.

She huffed a laugh, fingers still tangled in his jersey. "Shut up," she whispered, then pulled him down and kissed him again.

It was just as desperate as before, just as fevered, but this time, there was something else—acceptance. She wasn’t pushing him away, wasn’t stopping to argue. She was right there with him, matching his intensity, giving as much as she took. It was infuriating. It was exhilarating. It was everything.

And then—

Footsteps.

A sharp intake of breath.

Both of them froze just as Iwaizumi and Matsukawa turned the corner.

Iwaizumi stopped mid-step. Matsukawa, wide-eyed, blinked once, then twice. The hallway fell into a suffocating silence.

Then, slowly, in perfect synchronization, both of them took a single step backward.

Another.

Without a word, they turned around and walked the other way, as if they had just stumbled into something forbidden.

Matsukawa exhaled as they rounded the corner. "Damn. He really did get her."

Iwaizumi nodded. "Yeah."

A beat of silence.

"I hate him," Iwaizumi muttered.

Matsukawa sighed. "Me too."

Favourite Positions: Matsukawa

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."

Unrequited Love: Oikawa (Bonus)

The team was loud, as always.

Oikawa, now freshly showered and looking somewhat like himself again, was in the middle of being teased by Hanamaki and Matsukawa.

“So, Captain, let’s talk about your tragic love life,” Matsukawa said, slinging an arm around Oikawa’s shoulders.

Hanamaki took a dramatic sip of his drink. “Yeah, we all knew she was gonna break up with you before you did. What does that say about you, huh?”

“Shut up,” Oikawa groaned, smacking Matsukawa’s arm off him, though there was no real heat behind it. You could see his mood rising with every passing moment.

“Hey, at least you still have volleyball,” Matsukawa said, raising his glass like he was making a toast.

“Right, the one true love of your life,” Hanamaki added with a smirk.

Oikawa sighed dramatically. “You guys are the worst.”

You watched from the side, letting their banter wash over you. The ache from earlier was still there, a dull weight in your chest, but at least Oikawa wasn’t sulking anymore. That was the important thing.

A presence appeared beside you, and you didn’t even have to look to know it was Hajime.

“I’m impressed,” he admitted, crossing his arms as he watched Oikawa shove Hanamaki. “I tried to get him out of bed earlier, but he wouldn’t budge.”

You smirked, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “That’s because you don’t know how to sweet-talk him, Hajime.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. If I tried sweet-talking Oikawa, I’d never hear the end of it.”

You snickered. “Yeah, he’d probably take that as an invitation to propose.”

Hajime shook his head, amused, before glancing at you, his expression shifting into something more knowing. “So,” he said casually, “are you going to make a move, or are we just going to keep going in circles?”

You exhaled sharply, running a hand through your hair. “Please, you should’ve seen what he told me earlier.”

Hajime raised an eyebrow.

You turned to him, pressing a hand to your chest mockingly, and sighed dramatically. “He looked me in the eye, Hajime. And do you know what he said?”

Hajime waited.

“You’re a good friend,” you deadpanned, voice dripping with bitterness.

Hajime winced. “Ouch.”

“Yeah.” You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. “So, no, I’m not making a move. Not when he clearly doesn’t see me that way.”

Hajime was quiet for a moment before shrugging. “You never know. He’s an idiot. You might have to spell it out for him.”

You huffed, watching as Oikawa dramatically whined about something to the others. “Yeah, well… I think I’ve done enough for one night.” Then you hear a whine of your name. You look over to Oikawa's pleading face along with Matsun's and Makki's devious ones.

“You promised me they would give me a break!” Oikawa suddenly called out, his voice carrying over the chatter of the team. His eyes locked onto yours, pleading dramatically, though the glint of betrayal was exaggerated.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a smirk. “C’mon, guys, give him some slack,” you called, raising your hands in surrender.

Hanamaki gasped in mock offense. “Oh, so now you’re defending him?”

“She’s going soft,” Matsukawa said, shaking his head.

“I am not going soft,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes.

Hajime, beside you, smirked before stepping forward. “Actually, now that I think about it… didn’t Oikawa almost cry in first-year when he lost his favorite knee pads?”

Oikawa whipped around. “Iwa-chan.”

“Oh, right!” Hanamaki’s eyes lit up. “The ones with the little stars on them?”

“You guys swore to take that to the grave!” Oikawa cried, scandalized.

“I don’t know, man,” Matsukawa said, leaning back with a grin. “Kind of sounds like a moment that deserves to be remembered.”

As the teasing escalated, Oikawa slumped in his seat, arms crossed, pouting like a child. “I hate all of you.”

You laughed at the whole exchange, and when you glanced back at Oikawa, expecting him to still be sulking, you caught something different—something small, almost imperceptible.

He was smiling.

It was barely there, just a slight tug at the corners of his lips, but it was real. And for a brief moment, as his gaze lifted, he met your eyes.

The world around you blurred, and warmth spread through your chest. You swore you felt your heart stutter, just for a second.

And then, as quickly as the moment had happened, you cursed yourself for it.

Get a grip, you scolded yourself, tearing your gaze away.

Oikawa was still laughing with the others, completely unaware of the effect he had on you.

You exhaled, shaking your head, willing the butterflies away.

Hajime, still standing beside you, didn’t say anything, but when you glanced at him, he was looking at you with a knowing expression.

“Not a word,” you muttered.

He smirked. “Didn’t say anything.”

You groaned, shoving his shoulder, but he only chuckled in response.

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.”

Aoba Johsai VBC with a manager series.

Story: The team finding out that someone has given you a love letter.

GN reader

Not Requested.

Request Rules.

Masterlist.

(I’m sorry if this is a bit sloppy, my mind has not been on the right track lately, and it’s mostly the four 3rd years that get’s a lot of mention in here)

[L.Name] [Name] is Aoba Johsai manager, the team didn't have any manager prior before so the team was really ecstatic to have a manager this year.

And besides, the coach felt like he could only trust them with the position since ever since Oikawa joined the team with the same year as them.

But anyway, it was the usual. The team were having 5 - 5 and such while the coach and assistant coach observe them and them were taking notes of their performance. But [Name] mind kept coming back to the letter that they had found underneath their desk before they went to the gym.

They shook their though and looked back at the team but was only met with a ball growing towards them and hitting them in the face.

The others mouth were wide open as what just happened, they held their head as the team went up to check up on them.

"Oh god! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it!"

Iwaizumi said panicking walking in front of you.

"Are you alright [L.Name]-senpai?" Yahaba asked as you looked at them with a smile as you shake your hand. "Don't worry, I'm alright. Don-"

"AAAHHHH! [L.Name]-san! Your nose is bleeding!"

The others went to panic mode as everyone was scrambling around at the fact that their precious manager nose was bleeding and Iwaizumi was just apologizing profusely even more.

"Go grab a tissue and instead of running around! You idiots!"

"Yes sir!"

Kindaichi ran towards where they always kept the tissue ran up to the manager with the box and handed it to them, [Name] took some tissue and put it inside their nose to stop the bleeding.

"I'm alright you guys, it's just a bleeding don't worry. And Iwaizumi, please stop bowing." [Name] said as they put their hand on his shoulder.

"All right, all right. You guys go back to practicing now. And [Name], you should go to the infirmary." He said as [Name] nodded and stood up putting the notebook and walked out of the gym to get checked by the nurse.

"Is [L.Name] going to be okay?" Kindaichi said watching the manager walked out of the gym holding their nose. "Don't worry Kindaichi~ it's just a nosebleed. [Name] dealt much more worse than that." Oikawa said patting his shoulder.

"Yeah, like dealing with OIkawa."

"You two!"

"Get back to practice!!"

"Don't worry the bleeding will eventually stop, just sit down at the bed and I will check in a few minutes later if the bleeding stopped." The nurse said as [Name] nodded their head as the nurse walked out of the bed that was covered by a curtain.

They will need a few minutes before they could go back to the gym, they sighed and took out another tissue from the box and took out the tissue from their nose and put it in the new one inside.

While in the gym, practice was already over and everyone was taking a break and the team was talking to each other while drinking water, sitting on the ground and wiping off their sweat. But then Kunimi eyes saw something on the ground, he looked at it and it seems like a paper, or an envelope,

It probably flew inside the gym, he sighed. It was probably from Oikawa fangirls. He went towards the envelope and took it and walked back to the group. “Hey, I found a letter from the ground.” Kunimi said waving the letter around as the others looked at it and then looked at each other.

“It’s probably for Oikawa.”

“Yeah.”

“Aye.”

“All right, just give it to OIkawa. Kunimi.” Iwaizumi said as Kunimi nodded and handed the envelope to the male, Oikawa opened the letter and it seems like it wasn’t really sticking to the paper well. He shrugged it off and took the paper out of it.

He read through the letter but his face contorted when he read the first few words making the others worry. “What is it Oikawa?” Hanamaki said standing.

“Why does your face look so shock?” Iwaizumi said as OIkawa looked at the group. “This is not for me...”

.....

“HUH?!”

‘What do you mean it’s not for you! Every goddamn love letter is always for you!”

“I mean, I don’t wanna brag bu-”

“Shut the fuck up Hanamaki.”

“Ouch.”

Iwaizumi walked up to the male. “So who is it addressed to?” He asked as Oikawa had a horrified look on his face. “It’s addressed... to our precious manager. [L.Name]-chan.” Oikawa said as he crumpled the paper in his hand and started shaking Iwaizumi.

“We can’t let out precious manager be taken by some weird guy!! What if their creepy and dangerous as hell!”

“Calm down Oikawa!”

“What do you mean “calm down”! Our manager is going to be taken!” 

“This is not the time to be calm Iwaizmu!”

“We should protect our precious manager!”

“You two are seriously agreeing with Trashykawa right now?!”

“How about let’s all calm-”

“Watari!! How can we be calm whe-” Oikawa was cut off when he was hit in the back of the head by the male. “Calm down! We don’t even know if [Name] returns the feelings!” Iwaizumi said as the others went quiet.

“Ah, you’re right about that.”

Mattsukawa said nodding his head as well as Hanamaki, then they all sat down on the floor as the letter laid down in the middle of the group. They were all staring at it deeply then Iwaizumi spoke. “Oikawa, read the letter.”

“Yes.” Oikawa said crawling and took the letter and went back to his spot adn read the letter out loud for the team to hear. 

“Dear [L.Name] [Name],

                   I am writing this letter to you as I currently have feelings for you, and I have feelings for you ever since our 2nd year. I always watched you from afar and I always want to talk to you but I’m too shy to do it so, and I feel like I don’t deserve to be even near you. I really don’t like at how clingy Oikawa is to you, what is he? A child- AAAH THIS BASTARD!!” Oikawa stop reading the letter as he crumpled the paper even more.

“Yah! Don’t crumble the paper even more!!”

“You’re going to rip it half!”

“But their kinda right to be honest.”

Iwaizumi smacked Oikawa to stop from complaining even further than he is right now. “Continue.” He said as the brown haired male nodded his head and continued reading the letter.

“And I’m also the person who has been sending you those little gifts that you find in your shoe locker, I really hope you appreciated it. I was hoping you would come by in Friday behind the school when school is ended.

Sinceriously, your secret admirer.”

The others were quiet for awhile before chaos ensued in the gym as everyone was panicking especially since the admirer was going to confess this Friday, so creaming could be hear inside the gym making the people outside wondering on was happening inside the gym.

“What are we going to do?!”

“We have to kill them of course!”

“Oh! Nice idea Matsukawa!”

“CALM DOWN! NO ONE IS KILLING ANYONE!!”

They calm down as everyone except for Iwaizumi got on their knees, Iwaizumi sighed and shook his head. “Look, let’s just put the letter back on where it belong and act like nothing happened, all right?” Iwaizumi said as everyone nodded but Hanamaki spoke up.

“But what about [L.Name] secret admirer? They could be dangerous?”

“Yeah!”

“How can we know that?”

Iwaizumi sighed. “No, let’s just investigate and see who it is. And Kunimi put the on [Name] notebook before they get here.” Iwaizumi said as the 1st year nodded and put the letter back on the notebook so that it won’t fly off.

And right in time, [Name] came back and saw everyone practicing and such. The team saw them and walked towards the manager. Asking if they were okay which they replied it they were and Iwaizumi apologized once again before [Name] said it was okay.

“You guys, I'm alright but you should go back to practice now.” [Name] said as they nodded and went back to practicing and [Name] went back to the bench and took the note book and opened it as the letter flied into their lap.

They picked it up and saw how wrinkled it was more than before but they shook thought off but then thought. ’Did the team read the letter?’ They thought but shook it off once again.

A few days later

[L.Name] was starting to think that maybe everyone did read the letter since ever since that day, the team has been way more protective of them lately. Someone would always be there beside them and whenever someone goes to talk to them, they would be glaring hard at them. 

And they have to force them to go away since they wouldn’t leave them alone, so she had asked Kindaichi since they know the male will tell them truth and can’t lie to them because he can’t in general. Well, to them not to others.

They saw Kindaichi standing around presumably waiting for Kunimi.

“Kindaichi.” [Name] called out for him, the said male turned around and saw the third year. “A-Ah! [L.Name]-senpai, what are you doing here?” Kindaichi asked. “Oh, I was planning to ask you something actually.” They said.

“All right! You can ask me anything [Name]-senpai!”

“Did you guys somehow read the letter that was given to me?” [Name] asked with a smile on their face, Kindaichi flinched and froze as he was sweating hard under [Name] gaze on him, what was he supposed to do? Tell the truth? Well, that’s the right thing to do but also at the same time. He was trembling heavily on their gaze making it a dead give away to [Name] that they did read the letters.

But of course since three certain third years were noisy little shits, they were following their manager and saw the interaction and were running towards the two and took Kindaichi, since the male was being completely obvious right now.

“Sorry [L.Name]! We need Kindaichi to do something for us!!” 

They ran away far from the manager who stood there watching them disappear into the distance. 

‘I fucking knew it.’

At Practice

“Kindaichi, you were being obvious back there!!” Hanamaki whispered to the 1st year. “I’m sorry!” He apologized as Iwaizumi walked up to the two. “What are you two whispering about?” He asked as the two looked at him. “[L.Name] had asked him if we had read a letter that was given to them.” Hanamaki said.

“And he was being really obvious about it actually.” Matsukawa said walking towards the three.

“And they probably knows about it right now..”

“Yup.”

The three except for Iwaizumi shrieked and saw [Name] looked at them with a “gentle” smile, they knew they done goofed up since they were basically reading they were not supposed to know especially without [Name] permission. The others were trembling as [Name] let of the gentle smile on their face as they let out a huge sigh.

“Look... I really don’t like it when you guys read through my stuff right?” [Name] said as they all nodded. “And I don’t like it even more when you guys try do something stupid to find out about something, you guys should have confronted to me about it.” [Name] said while shaking their head.

While the others were dumbfounded as they realized on how easy it could’ve been but then again, they didn’t want to face [Name] wrath when they found out that they have been snooping through their stuff. They certainly don’t want that especially the 2nd and 3rd years, the 1st years haven’t experienced it... yet.

“Wait... so we should’ve have asked you about it?” OIkawa said as [Name] nodded. “Of course, I know you guys would be snooping around once you found about the love letter that I had received. You think I would be dumb enough to not know this would happen one day?” [Name] said while raising an eyebrow and their arms crossed.

“We’re sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

[Name] said as they took out the letter. “Also, tomorrow is the day that I’ll be meeting the secret admirer and for your information. I don’t have feelings for this person.” They said as the team let out an relief, but then Kunimi spoke up.

“But [L.Name]-san, do you know the person who wrote the letter to you?” He asked as [Name] nodded their head. “Yeah, I accidently found out while I was walking back to my locker to gets something but enough of that. You guys should go back to practice now before the coach kicks your asses again.”

“Yes!”

That Friday.

“I like you [L.Name]! Please go out with me!”

They bowed in front of them as [Name] looked at them. “I’m sorry but I can’t return the feelings [R.Name].” They said as the bowed while the said person stood up straight.

“O-Oh... is that so...” They awkwardly said since they don’t know what tp say about the rejection that they had received. “I’m really sorry especially since you bought those gifts for me, but I haven’t opened them and I want it to return them to you.” [Name] said as they handed them the bag that was filled with unopened gifts.

“You should give them to another person that returns the feelings for you.” [Name] said as they bowed once again and walked off, [R.Name] looked at the bag as they tried to stop the incoming tears and walked off.

The team was watching the confession behind the wall, they let out a sigh of relief but also at the same time felt bad for the person. Especially since [Name] didn’t open the gift that they had spend money on but they know [Name] can’t accept gifts but specifically the ones romantically for them.

Even though to others, it kinda seem like a jerk move but [Name] just doesn’t open the gifts because they think that they should only open the one if the sender is who they have feelings for. So, they just give the gifts back to them.

[Name] does feel guilty about it since they had spend money on it but it’s basically useless since they don’t have feelings for the person and it would be weird to keep the gifts in general.

The manager saw the team looking behind the wall and approached them. “What are you guys doing here?” They asked as the team stiffened and look to the side. “Uhhh... we were... just watching..” Oikawa said as [Name] sighed and shook their head as the team got away from the wall and stood in front of them.

“Let’s go.”

“Yes.”

The five 3rd years walked together to the gym, it was quiet between the them when Matsukawa spoke. “You guys wanna grab ramen after practice?”

“Yeah.”

‘Sure.”

“Yeah.”

“Yes.”

“It’s Oikawa’s turn to treat us this time.” [Name] said as Oikawa flinched as he knew they would order the most expensive shit on the menu. 

“All right...”

Slightly belated pinch hit for the HQ Fantasy BigBang — have some MatsuHana angst and please check out the fic, the AU and world building are lovely ☺️💕

⇢ Read "Bard Without a Song" on Ao3 by @savannahlovena (Beta by Alaina) ⇢ Akaashi Art

🥇 Justice (and Waffles) for the Grand King (✒︎ on Ao3) (Preview)

Seijoh 4 + KageHina | Haikyu!! | Timeskip (Olympics) | Rated: G | 2.5k words

Hajime knows he says and thinks this a lot, but this time he truly, deeply and sincerely means it: He’s done. Like done done. “So just to make sure I understand this correctly,” he takes a deep breath while just barely resisting the urge to smash his head through the next best wall, “you finally fulfilled your lifelong dream of winning Olympic gold, and the best thing you could think of doing with your medal was to put it by the wide open window, where a bird flew in… and stole it?” “... … … Yes,” Oikawa grits through grinding teeth, eyes set firmly on a point somewhere above his shoulder.

I was so so SO thrilled to be able to contribute to the @hqanimalzine "Gone Wild" last year and, as is custom with my Seijoh 4 fics, it turned out to be absolute chaos 🤣

💕 Well Stolen is Half Won (✒︎ on Ao3) (Preview)

MatsuHana/IwaOi | Haikyuu!! | Pre-Timeskip/Canon compliant | Rated: G | 600 words

Hanamaki drops down to his knees and wedges his fingers into the gap between the lockers until they meet resistance. Seconds later, Matsukawa is hanging over his shoulder, eager to catch a glimpse at the small, staple-bound booklet and Hanamaki fumbles open the pages, hands shaking with anticipation. “‘Iwa-Chan’s and Tooru’s absolute bestestest Valentinesday date ever’... Issei, hold me.”

My second piece for the MatsuHana Calendar 2023, this time with some wild Valentines shenanigans! Huge shout out also to Mod @violetyams who did a super amazing art piece for this (all their art is gorgeous, please check them out) ~

🥓 Birthday, Bacon & Betrayal (✒︎ on Ao3) (Preview)

MatsuHana | Haikyuu!! | Timeskip/Canon compliant | Rated: Gen | 600 words

Matsukawa Issei is not a morning person and yet he is consistently awake well before 7 am because there is a small, smelly butt depositing itself on his face with an almost innocent, little ‘mrrrow’. A butt that belongs to a cat he most assuredly did not ask for. A cat that hates him. With a grunt and a curse, he shoves at the hell-beast attempting—and somehow succeeding—to steal both his alcove apartment and his lover.

My January piece for the MatsuHana Calendar 2023 (on Twitter) that I wrote for Makki's birthday today ~ I had so much fun working on this project and all the works are absolutely amazing, so please consider giving this a look. Special shoutout to @sleepskie who made the January art piece and worked with me on the fic — their works are nothing short of amazing 💕

Six men, one bird, a missing medal and absolutely no braincells anywhere in sight!

Second to last zine I have had the honor of working with this year. Please check out the @hqanimalzine 'Gone Wild' and grab yourself a copy ~ POs are open!

Hi everyone ~ I have the absolute pleasure to be writing 2 little stories for the MatsuHana Calendar (Twitter) because Meme Team is Dream Team, so give this a look and check out all the other amazing contributors ;)

My favourite MatsuHana headcanon is that Makki hosts an Ugly Sweater contest every year but Matsun just unironically wears his sweater(s) all year round (a sweater is a sweater no matter the motive and if he's cold he will wear whatever is in reach)—it cracks Makki up and brings Iwaizumi to tears every single time.

The sample excerpt is from my fic "Never Change A Running System" (a next-gen Seijoh fic) on Ao3.

I‘m really excited to write some MatsuHana mayhem for this project so if you have Twitter, please give it a look and check out all the other amazing contributors ✨

On their way home with a nice afternoon snack after a busy day of studying annoying IwaOi 🍕

More UrbanFantasy University AU art, you know the drill >.> This time with wind spirit Hanamaki and half-centaur/half-dullahan Matsun.

[IwaOi]

Hanamaki: *hysterical wheezing* Matsukawa: He knows it's infertile, right? Iwaizumi: If it makes him happy...

Update for this ~ They are having an egg 🥚🐉

In this AU, all dragon genders can lay eggs—it's just something that happens when they start building a nest with a trusted partner. Young dragons lay 4-6 infertile eggs before they have the process figured out and can make eggs that actually hatch something. "Test eggs" are very potent ingredients for potions and also a delicacy—Iwaizumi, Matsukawa and Hanamaki want to make an omelet, Oikawa wants to be extra and show it off to everyone.

My second collaboration with @vwritesaus for the @hqbb ~ This scene is from chapter 3 of their amazing Pokemon AU and I had a ton of fun going bonkers on the sunset VibeZ XD

© Art made by me, concept by V

["Press Start" on Ao3] | [Iwa Team Lineup]

Rule the Court Windowsill

Aka the Seijoh as plants AU that nobody asked for ~

[left to right: Rose Oikawa, Cactus Iwaizumi, Hemlock Yahaba, Onion Kindaichi, Thistle Kyoutani, Edelweis Watari, Ikea(TM) Palm Matsun, Dandelion Hanamaki, Venus Fly Trap Kunimi]

Art made by me, brought to you with the brainstorming power and moral support of the IwaOi BigBang server <3