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more ft. semi eita
for you ft. oikawa tooru
for you (holiday remix) ft. oikawa tooru
discover weekly
24 hours ft. miya atsumu
딩가딩가 ft. hanamaki takahiro
fall in love ft. miya osamu
top hits
haikyuu boys as annoying but endearing things my husband does
haikyuu boys as me and my friends when we drink
you don't know my name ft. kuroo tetsurou
now playing
LISTENING — kill bill by sza
WATCHING — my hero academia, spy x family, blue lock, the glory
GAMING — hades, genshin
sfw. fluff. f!reader. characters are adults. thinking about neighbour!iwaizumi — but hold on, he's not your neighbour. (banner by @cafekitsune !)
your grandmother lives on the other side of town; not too far away — it's only about a fifteen-minute drive — but far enough for you and your parents to regularly worry about her since she's on her own ever since your grandpa passed away. she insists she's capable, and you have yet to see any evidence showing otherwise. she does her grocery shopping on her own, tends to her impressive veggie garden every other day in the summer, and manages all her house chores better than you.
but when you wake up to the blinding gleam of snow on your neighbour's rooftop outside your bedroom window, your first worry is that she's going to attempt to shovel her driveway on her own.
leaping out of bed, you call her while pulling on your warmest clothes, wishing her a good morning with a do NOT shovel the snow, i'm on my way! there's laughter in her voice as she reassures you that she won't in that grandmotherly way that makes you believe her.
so you feel very betrayed when you pull up to her house and see that her driveway is clean. she's poking her head through the front door with a grin like she's proud of her handiwork, but before you can scold her for not listening to you, she pushes a cookie tin into your arms.
"it was the neighbour's boy!" she waves to shoo away your shocked expression. "take this to him for me, will you? and tell him to come over for tea!"
relieved, but also in mild disbelief that your grandma didn't even invite you into the house first, you trudge over to the neighbours', turning the cookie tin in your hands to make sure it's actually a sealed tin of cookies, not a tin of sewing supplies.
come to think of it, you don't think you've ever met her neighbours. she once told you that a family lives next door — a mom, a dad and their son — a boy, from what she said just now. it's not uncommon for the neighbourhood kids to offer shovelling services to supplement their weekly allowances in the wintertime, so you're fully prepared for a kid to come to the door when you ring the doorbell.
not a man.
you probably look hilariously lost for a few seconds before you come to your wits. "uh, did you shovel my grandma's driveway?"
he raises a brow and for a moment you're horrified by the possibility that you've come to the wrong house, until his confusion dissipates. "oh, yeah. this morning."
you hold the cookie tin out stiffly. "she thanks you. i mean, i'm thanking you too but these are from her. to thank you. for that."
he puts a hand on the tin, gently pushing it towards you which thankfully stops you from adding anymore redundant sentence fragments. "no worries, she doesn't have to give me anything."
"oh," you say, your brain lagging for a moment. "but she insists."
"it's fine," he shakes his head, "tell her it's payback for all the fresh tomatoes she gives my parents in the summer."
you briefly consider letting him win, but your grandma will not let you hear the end of it if you returned with her gift rejected.
"then these are from me," you say, arms outstretched far enough to hold it to his abdomen. "i usually have to shovel for her so, thank you for doing that."
the way he slowly takes the tin from you sends you into a mini spiral of panic for maybe coming off as being pushy. then he gives you a small smile that briefly makes you consider moving in with your grandmother.
"you're welcome. say hi to her for me."
"actually!" you yelp, suddenly recovering enough sense to remember the other thing your grandma told you. "she asked for you to come over."
he tilts his head curiously and you get the feeling he's about to reject her invitation.
"HAJIME!"
you both jump at the sound of your grandma's shrill holler from her porch.
"grandma," you groan — the crazy lady is outside without a coat! — at the same time hot — er, hajime — calls, "hi granny!"
"i made tea!" she waves to him, selectively ignoring your frown. "come over!"
"are you sure?" he laughs, hand rubbing the back of his neck. it's sweet how friendly he is with her. "your granddaughter's here, so you should spend time with her."
"exactly! you should come over and spend time with her too! she doesn't have a boyfriend!"
an undignified grunt leaves your throat. "grandma!!" you whine, feeling a rush of heat flood your cheeks as you give her another look. for heaven's sake, if she wanted to set you up with her neighbours' hot son, she could've at least told you so you wouldn't have run out of house dressed like a potato, and be more subtle about it!
but he chuckles behind you, and when you turn, his eyes catch yours.
"is your granddaughter okay with that?" he calls loud enough for her to hear but you know the question is for you.
"you don't have to," you whisper.
"that's not what i asked," he smirks. his voice is low only for you to hear and knowing that makes your cheeks flush even more, it might melt the last few functioning brain cells in your skull.
so you nod once shyly, then a second time when you're brave enough to look him in the eyes again, when he gives you a look for confirmation.
daughter guilt is so real. one moment i'm laughing with my friends, the next i'm thinking about my mom who's home alone and wants to laugh with someone too
Idk how this is even gonna work but I just love the idea of a non-sorcerer who’s really down on their luck and is open to do any job. ANYTHING. Even the job listing about kidnapping the strongest sorcerer around.
You have no idea what sorcerers are, but you’re desperate and you take it without a second thought. By some miracle you manage to break into Gojo’s penthouse (weird how there’s no security system, right?) and clumsily declare how resistance is futile and he needs to come with you.
And satoru just….goes with it.
For a kidnapper you’re really nice. You constantly ask if the rope needs to be looser. His hands are kinda preoccupied so you have to hand feed him the delicious food you made for him. The fact that you can cook do is also a plus. you practically wait on him hand and foot.
And let’s be honest, Gojo has no vacation days so he’s taking every chance he can get.
He gets so used to being pampered that he straight up just refuses to go back.
Naturally the Gojo clan is furious that their weapon—uh asset—uh tool— really really important member of the family has been taken. they have a couple powerful sorcerers of their own so it should be a piece of cake to break in to wherever you’re keeping him and killing you. Except they can’t even get miles within your place, it’s as though Gojo is intentionally putting up a veil to protect his kidnapper.
Oh wait, that’s exactly what he’s doing.
It gets so bad that Gojo stops pretending he’s your helpless captive and teleports back to his family home to demand that they pay the ransom. 2 million? That’s way too fucking low. 20 million-no 200 million.
eventually he needs to get back to his life someday so he stops making a ruckus for everyone. When the ransom is paid, he naturally kills the people who talked you into doing this so you get all the money. Its a happy ending for exactly two people
All of this is naturally a huge blow for the gojo clan. To make matters even worse, satoru somehow convinces you to marry him after that fiasco. And nobody within the gojo clan ever breathes a word that the wife of the gojo head is actually a criminal who kidnapped him that one time. It just turns into yet another skeleton in the closet.
unavoidable that you will be the villain in someone else's story. You will be painted in an unfavorable light. You will be the irredeemable one. and all of this will happen despite how nice you might usually be or how kind or how respectful or how warm. and you will just have to move on.
hii dee! thanks so much for indulging us with these spicy sleepovers :3 for this weekend, what about mattsun and a summer carnival? I'm not sure if you're familiar with disco pang pang but I have the clearest image in my mind of the ride operator shaking you onto his lap and when you land you're like "why tf does this guy have an entire can of pringles in his pants" (it is not a can of pringles 🤭)
(oh my god i love you for this idea HAAAAAAAAAA. please suspend your disbelief as i pretend i know what i'm talking about with this ride for the sake of the horny agenda<3)
dizzy
issei matsukawa x f!reader
...in which your quiet little crush on mattsun suddenly becomes a big, hard, wholly unavoidable affair when you find yourself accidentally straddling his lap on a ride at the carnival.
c: 18+ only, dry humping, mattsun's big dick
“I hate you, Oikawa!” you yelp, fingers scrambling for purchase on the metal bars behind you as the spinning wheel of death whirs to life and immediately sends you careening sideways, your knees knocking into Makki’s.
“It’ll be fun!” he’d exclaimed when you arrived at the bustling summer carnival and stumbled across the Disco Pang Pang ride, proceeding to show you several viral videos of the horrific ride in other places as you waited in line with him, Mattsun, and Makki.
(Iwaizumi had taken one look at it and proclaimed, “Absofuckinglutely not.”)
(You regret not following his lead.)
“This is fun!” Oikawa shouts, leaning over Makki on your left. You’d reach out to punch the boyish grin off of his face, if you weren’t currently holding on for dear life as the ride operator decides it’s time to start bouncing up and down as well.
There’s another violent spin in the other direction, and you groan loudly, closing your eyes as your body slides, and you can hear a warm laugh beside you—Mattsun. Your breath hitches in your throat as you become hyper aware of the way your thighs are nearly flush together.
“Are you okay?” he asks, nose brushing against your ear to ensure you can hear him over the screams and laughter around you.
His breath is hot against your neck, and your heart thrums behind your ribcage in a heady, dizzy rhythm that leaves you distracted enough that the sweaty fingers of your right hand slip off of the metal bar with a loud squeak. Mattsun’s hand claps down over yours, holding it against the railing, and he glances at you sideways with a grin before looking away again.
He doesn’t take his hand off of yours.
If it were anyone else, this would be fine.
(And if it were Oikawa beside you, you’d probably use his t-shirt as an anchor if only to accidentally rip the sleeve in the process. As payback and all.)
But this is Mattsun.
Mattsun, with his soft eyes and perpetually tousled hair. His gentle, always slightly amused smile. His oddly attractive collarbones (you’ve never been attracted to fucking collarbones before) and long fingers and muscled forearms.
Mattsun, who you’ve got a terribly inconvenient crush on.
The ride continues to spin and bounce, Makki bumping into your other side every so often, both he and Oikawa howling with laughter as another group across from you goes tumbling from their seats. Mattsun’s hand stays exactly where it is.
You nearly end up in Makki’s lap, but Mattsun’s fingers flex a little tighter over yours, and he hooks his ankle over yours to steady you in place. He doesn’t seem perturbed in the slightest as he does it, like the reflex is natural to him.
Your skin burns everywhere that he touches.
The ride slows down, and for one brief, fleeting moment, you think you’re free to sprint to the nearest cotton candy stand to override the frantic beating of your smitten heart with a sugar rush.
And then all hell breaks loose as the operator lets out a boisterous laugh and sends the ride careening and bouncing even faster than before.
Makki and Oikawa slide several feet away, collapsing into a group of giggling, shouting girls. A few other people stumble and fall and begin holding on to one another for dear life. And you find yourself momentarily airborne, your entire body flinging upwards and sideways until two strong arms wrap around you and firmly tug you downward.
Right into Mattsun’s lap.
The ride continues to spin, and Mattsun holds you tight, the arm that’s still around you tensing to keep you from getting jostled too much after each subsequent spin and jump as he holds the bar with the other.
It should be jarring, the feeling of his broad chest flush against your back, his chin on your shoulder.
But as you slip just enough that you end up straddling just one of his legs, you suddenly find it incredibly difficult to concentrate on anything other than the way his muscled thigh is pressing right into your core, the rigid seam of your jean shorts doing you no favors in lessening the feeling currently unfurling in your abdomen.
Mattsun notices you’re sliding forward, and he drags you back into the cradle of his lap. Biting down on your lower lip, you stifle the moan that threatens to crawl up your throat at the pressure it puts on your clit in the process.
And then all thoughts swiftly leave your mind when you feel something hard pressing into your ass.
Something very hard and very fucking big.
Spending time with Oikawa, Makki, Iwa, and Mattsun has made you privy to far too many things, like their jokes about the latter’s “big dick.”
So while you should have been at least marginally prepared in some capacity, when the ride jumps and you bounce in his lap again, finding yourself straddling both of his legs again with your legs spread wide to steady yourself, you still gasp when you’re treated to the accidental experience of your cunt dragging down the full, thick outline of his shaft.
You pray he didn’t hear you.
The ride carries on spinning, and you grow more and more wet with each turn, your soaked panties digging into your slick, dripping folds as you bounce on Mattsun’s dick. If you didn’t know better, you’d swear Mattsun’s breathing sounds a little ragged against your shoulder, and his grip on your side slides a little lower, his fingers grasping your hip instead. With the way your shirt’s ridden up, his thumb and pointer finger are against your bare skin, which does little to cool the wet, blazing heat currently gushing between your legs.
You’re dizzy with arousal, pleasure simmering through your veins as your pussy greedily lets gravity stroke your folds against Mattsun’s cock.
His lips brush against the shell of your ear, and his voice is low and rough. “Are you—”
The ride bounces again, and a sharp, vibrant burst of pleasure sears your nerve endings. You gasp.
Mattsun fucking groans.
—and you nearly explode.
He takes your earlobe between his teeth. “Does it feel good?” he murmurs.
You nod, inhaling sharply as he subtly grinds up into you, biting back a whimper.
“Fuck,” he rasps, exhaling roughly as he does it again, harder this time.
“Mattsun,” you breathe out, sounding more than a little desperate.
“Can you come like this?” he asks, his pointer finger slipping past the waistband of your shorts just enough to tug at your panties, pulling them even tighter against your aching pussy.
You nod again, afraid you’ll moan if you open your mouth, and Mattsun kisses the side of your neck.
To anyone else, if they could possibly be watching while they’re busy fighting the push and tug of the ride, the two of you just look like a couple holding on to one another as you try not to go flying into anyone else.
Mattsun presses another hot kiss just behind your earlobe. “Come for me, then.”
Those four words alone are enough to send you hurling over the edge into the throes of an intense, shuddering orgasm, the shape of the syllables on his plush lips far more filthy than you ever could have imagined.
But paired with the way he firmly pulls your hips down against his cock as he grinds up into you, you’re an absolute goner—the only saving grace for the shout of pleasure that accidentally tumbles past your lips is the way everyone else on the ride is also in the middle of another bout of screams and laughter as well.
Neither you or Mattsun say anything to each other when you finally exit the ride, though his hand ghosts over the small of your back as you follow a stumbling, giggling Oikawa and Makki toward where Iwa is waiting with his arms crossed on a bench nearby.
(But shortly after, when you excuse yourself to find a bathroom, you don’t have to look behind you to know that Mattsun’s following you, his fingers tangling with yours before he presses you up against a wall and kisses you until you can’t breathe.)
