✗ Viewers discretion is advised. The following will contain nonconsensual acts, gore, murder and taboo kinks. Please note the line up will change as the author is undecided.
✗ Reader will be described as chubby/fat/plus-sized.
✗ Do take note that the update of the following planned writings will be indefinite. It may be added with more writings or may be discontinued.
✗ authors note. i was debating on wether to partake on this event again but i can't miss it even my life's going in shambles. need myself to be occupied. a little help for your still struggling author.
dedicated for the people who helped during this rough patch of my life. i am forever grateful to you all.
☏ in which you text the wrong number as a prank but soon blossoms into an unsual friendship… or that’s what he calls it anyways
masterlist
a/n: this is so fucked & cracked and only posting this to maybe break my writers block and actually update sjap. ree beta read so if it’s not funny blame her. (can we play border line question mark)
— who needs the volleyball team’s official broadcast when there’s issei dedicating an entire podcast to documenting your every sneeze, sigh, and sip of cafeteria milk?
matsukawa issei x f!reader
c: fluff fluff fluff fluff fluff fluff
been a mattsun girlie since d1, will jump him 100%
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
there are a lot of alarming things about high school: exams, gym uniforms that never quite dry right after washing, and the way vending machines eat your coins with zero remorse. but the most alarming thing? matsukawa issei’s podcast.
he calls it “y/n watch.”
like some sort of nature documentary. except instead of lions prowling the savanna, it’s you trying to untangle your earbuds in homeroom while matsukawa provides live commentary like he’s david attenborough reborn.
and the worst part? people listen. no—people flock. overnight, “y/n watch” has more listeners than the volleyball team’s official game broadcast. oikawa nearly cries when he sees the analytics.
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
matsukawa, to his credit, does not see anything wrong with this. in fact, he’s thriving.
“welcome back to another episode of y/n watch,” he says into his phone mic, sprawled on his bed like this is a legitimate studio. “today’s update: y/n dropped her pen in math class. she didn’t pick it up right away—no, no, she waited exactly four minutes and thirty-two seconds before leaning down. the suspense? unmatched. my heart rate? dangerous.”
he pauses for dramatic effect. “also, she used the pink pen today, not the blue one. shocking. revolutionary. this is what the people tune in for.”
and the people do tune in. matsukawa has no idea how it spread, but now everyone in school is low-key invested in the minute-by-minute chronicles of your life. you’re basically a celebrity without even trying.
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
the first time you find out, it’s because hanamaki won’t stop snickering in class.
“what?” you ask, frowning at him.
hanamaki just turns his phone around. the screen flashes the title: “y/n watch ep. 14 — she ate bread??”
bread??
you click play before you can stop yourself, and matsukawa’s voice fills the classroom:
“today, i witnessed greatness. y/n chose bread at the cafeteria. not rice, not noodles, but bread. she sat down, unwrapped it so carefully, like an angel descending from the heavens. then she took the softest bite i’ve ever seen. i almost cried. she is everything. the bread was nothing compared to her.”
your face bursts into flames. “what the—!”
“he’s committed,” hanamaki says, barely holding in his laughter. “dude’s practically a one-man fan club.”
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
you confront matsukawa after school, because how could you not?
he’s leaning against the gym doors, earphones in, scrolling through his phone. casual. calm. as though he isn’t publicly documenting your daily life for the entire school to consume.
“matsukawa,” you hiss, tugging at his sleeve. “what the hell is ‘y/n watch’?”
his mouth curves into the most shameless grin you’ve ever seen. “you listened?”
“of course i listened! it’s literally about me!”
“then you liked it.”
“i—what? no!”
but matsukawa just smirks, pushing his hands into his pockets like you’ve already confirmed his victory. “you wouldn’t have listened if you didn’t care. don’t worry, i only report the truth. raw, unfiltered y/n content. the people deserve it.”
“the people—? matsukawa, this isn’t a democracy!”
“hm. feels more like a monarchy,” he says, tilting his head, eyes glinting with lazy amusement. “and you’re the queen.”
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
the next day, you expect him to stop. you told him off. you were firm. you made your boundaries very clear.
…right?
wrong.
“episode 15,” his voice says the moment you open spotify at lunch. “she confronted me yesterday. i saw fire in her eyes, and honestly? i’d let her yell at me again if it meant being the center of her attention. ten out of ten experience. five stars. would recommend.”
you nearly choke on your juice.
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
it becomes impossible to escape “y/n watch.”
you tie your shoelaces? matsukawa uploads an entire five-minute segment about how gracefully you bent down, how you double-knotted them like a responsible genius.
you sneeze in class? boom. instant clip. he titles it “the cutest sound known to mankind (i almost ascended).”
you write your name on the whiteboard during group work? the next episode drops: “her handwriting cured my nearsightedness.”
at first, you’re mortified. how are you supposed to live normally when every mundane thing you do gets immortalized in audio format?
but over time, it… weirdly becomes kind of sweet. ridiculous, yes. humiliating, absolutely. but there’s something about the way matsukawa describes you—like even the littlest details matter. like you’re fascinating just by existing.
and that—well. it’s hard not to feel a little warm inside.
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
the volleyball team, however, is less than thrilled.
“mattsun, this is treason!” oikawa wails, holding his head dramatically. “people are skipping my carefully curated match broadcasts to listen to you gush about y/n’s pencil choices?!”
“sounds about right,” hanamaki says.
iwaizumi sighs. “look, man, we’re happy for you or whatever, but maybe dial it down? you’re scaring the first-years.”
“they’ll live,” matsukawa says with a shrug, already typing notes into his phone. “also, y/n laughed in chemistry today. like, full-on giggle. her nose crinkled. i almost dropped my beaker. tune in tonight for the full coverage.”
oikawa actually looks like he might pass out. “crinkled?! this is war.”
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
the true turning point comes on a wednesday.
you’re sitting in the library, trying (failing) to focus on homework, when matsukawa drops into the seat across from you. no preamble, no hesitation, just this looming giant of a boy grinning like a cat who stole all the cream.
“hi,” he says.
you narrow your eyes. “you better not be recording this.”
“not recording,” he promises, holding up both hands. “just… observing.”
“that’s worse!”
but then he leans forward, resting his chin on his palm. his voice drops, softer than you expect.
“seriously though. it’s not just for laughs. i like noticing you. even the small stuff. especially the small stuff.”
your heart stutters.
he’s still smiling, but there’s an earnestness behind it now, one that makes your chest ache. “you’re my favorite part of the day,” he admits, like it’s the simplest truth. “so yeah, i talk about it. maybe too much. but i can’t help it.”
and maybe you should scold him again, tell him how weird it is. maybe you should walk away.
but instead you find yourself biting back a smile, cheeks warm. “…you’re a crazy guy.”
“your crazy guy,” he corrects immediately, eyes gleaming.
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
the next episode of “y/n watch” drops that night.
“breaking news,” matsukawa’s voice says. “y/n called me ridiculous. the way she said it? life-changing. she smiled after, too. i’m framing that smile in my memory forever. honestly, i could retire the podcast now—mission accomplished. but i won’t. because every day with her is worth documenting.”
and somehow, some way… you don’t even mind anymore.
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
but nothing—and i mean nothing—compares to the day you slip up.
it’s after practice, the gym buzzing with noise, oikawa nagging about rotations while hanamaki tries to balance a volleyball on his head. matsukawa wanders over to where you’re sitting, lazy grin in place, sweat still clinging to his forehead.
“tired?” he asks.
“a little,” you admit.
he hums, dropping onto the bench beside you. “don’t worry. i’ll carry you home if you collapse.”
“you’re ridiculous, mattsun.”
and then—without thinking—you add: “thanks, issei.”
silence.
dead silence.
the ball falls off hanamaki’s head with a thud. oikawa’s jaw drops. iwaizumi straight-up freezes mid-drink.
matsukawa? matsukawa looks like he’s been struck by lightning. eyes wide, breath caught, frozen grin melting into something so stunned it borders on reverence.
“…say that again,” he breathes.
you blink. “what?”
“my name,” he says, voice hoarse. “say it again.”
“issei?”
he puts a hand over his heart like you’ve just fired an arrow through it. “that’s it. i can die happy now. funeral’s tomorrow. bury me with my headphones.”
“oh my god,” you groan, shoving at his shoulder. “you’re so dramatic.”
but he’s already on his feet, turning toward the team. “she called me issei!”
iwaizumi pinches the bridge of his nose. “please, not this.”
“did everyone hear? issei!” matsukawa crows, pointing at himself with both thumbs like he’s just won the olympics. “retire the podcast, boys, i’ve reached peak existence.”
hanamaki claps slowly, solemnly. “congratulations, man. you’re a legend.”
oikawa, meanwhile, looks personally victimized. “she’s never called me by my first name like that—”
“because no one likes you, trashykawa,” iwaizumi mutters.
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
later that night, a special episode drops.
“emergency broadcast,” matsukawa says, voice uncharacteristically shaky with excitement. “y/n said my name today. my actual name. issei. i heard it. i lived it. i will never recover. this is bigger than winning nationals. this is bigger than the moon landing. neil armstrong who? it’s all about y/n calling me issei.”
a pause. a deep, shaky inhale.
“if you’re listening to this, know that i’m the luckiest man alive. and yes, the podcast will continue. forever.”
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
a: type of stuff that would never happen irl. someone did moan out my name in school speakers but i don’t think i’ll write about that.
“You’re telling me you haven’t thought about sleeping with your guy friends?”
Matsukawa narrows his eyes as he waits for your reaction. You’re unphased, mulling the question over as you take a sip of your drink. The movie the two of you are watching is paused, not even 20 minutes in.
“No, Issei, that’s weird. I don’t pick my friends based purely on sex appeal.”
He puts a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. “Then what am I good for?”
You smile at him over the rim of the glass.
“Stupid conversation starters.”
“C’mon,” he presses you, nudging your shoulder. “Surely you’ve thought about someone before. You can tell me.”
He’s not trying to get you to say him, although the thought wouldn’t be unwelcome. You make no move to reply.
Issei settles back into the couch cushions, hiding somewhat from your view, and continues.
“And besides, I’m not saying that we can’t be friends because of it. It’s a bonus.”
“Oh, I’m sure.”
The room falls quiet again, and you make a move towards the remote to turn the movie back on.
“I’ve thought about it.”
He hadn’t entirely meant to say that. But now that it’s out, he’s a bit relieved.
Your head whips around to face him, your expression flustered. “What?!”
Not expecting that reaction, Issei tries to think of some damage control. “Not just with you, with most of my girl friends.”
You narrow your eyes at him, not entirely sold. But, there’s also something different in your gaze. Something… almost curious. Still, you don’t reply.
“You’re freaking me out, man.” He jokes, trying to evade the weight of your gaze.
“What do you think about?”
Time feels like it slows as he realizes what you’ve asked him. He swallows hard, letting out a thick exhale. “You serious?”
“Yeah,” you reply coyly, turning in your seat to face him. Bracing your head with your hand, arm perched on the tip of the sofa, poised like you’re waiting for a little anecdote. As if you didn’t just drop a bomb on him.
He once again averts your gaze, suddenly very interested in the condensation dripping down his bottle. “Alright. Uh,” he starts, trying to think of something vague enough.
“I’d think about the way you act at the club, I guess.”
You raise your eyebrows, unimpressed, so he shrugs and continues.
“You know, the way your ass looks in the dresses you wear, how it’d feel if you were dancing on me, pressed up against me.”
“Oh, c’mon. You can’t be serious.”
“What?” Now it’s his turn to look incredulous.
“That’s it?” You’re almost laughing at him, looking in disbelief. “You made such a big stink about it and that’s all you’ve thought about?”
He sits up a bit straighter, moving into your space. “Okay, you want more?”
The move makes you nervous as you bite your lip ever so slightly.
“Alright. So say we’re at this club, and you’re dancing like that, pretending to not notice the way people are looking at you. I’d take you off the dance floor, into some dark corner where it’s just you and me.
“I’d start slow, maybe kissing your neck, just waiting for you to get all breathless and needy before kissing you properly. I’d leave hickies all over,” his eyes rake over your body, lingering on your neck as if he could see the marks already, “just so all the other shitty guys would leave you alone.
“But you wouldn’t be alone, because before too long, I’d have those pretty legs straddled over mine, watching you get yourself off on my thigh in the corner of a club, just hoping that I’ll have mercy on you and help you cum before someone notices.”
When he finally finishes, the two of you stare at each other, both breathless. You start to grin.
“I guess sleeping with your guy friends wouldn’t be so bad, then.”
Loser!Matsukawa who is already hopelessly in love with you. He can’t stop thinking about you no matter where he is. he thinks about you at work, with friends, while he’s eating, shitting, sleeping. You have plagued his mind.
Loser!Matsukawa who takes you to the aquarium and shows you all of his favourite fishes and tells you their name. He is a nerd like that and you love it.
Loser!Matsukawa who feels his dick jumping whenever you smile at him.
Loser!Matsukawa who doesn’t know how to make out very well, but you teach him slowly, play with his tongue and hair, while he blushes furiously.
Loser!Matsukawa who loves cooking and is a great cook! So you both have a cooking date together and he feels so happy!! After that, he often stops by your house to make you dinner or lunch when you are too busy with your own studies/work.
Loser!Matsukawa who lets you do his make-up and he looks soo soo sooo pretty. Not only that, he also lets you post the picture on your insta and receives many compliments!
He feels bonita!
Loser!Matsukawa who sees you falling asleep on him while watching a movie together, and he just.. stares at you. Like a creep. He looks at your pretty face, your neck, cleavage, your chest and thighs. He is immediately horny.
But he doesn’t know what to do about it! He can’t just move when you’re sleeping on his thighs. he’s hard, but he will control it for you.
Loser!Matsukawa who finds himself waking up next to you, still hard as rock because he had a dirty dream and he feels bad about it because you’re still _sleeping_ next to him, but he can’t help it.
He goes to jerk off in the bathroom thinking of you :(
Loser!Matsukawa who acts like nothing happened when you wake up, and offers to make you breakfast like he didn’t just beat his meat fantasising about you riding him.
Loser!Matsukawa who finally gets a night with you, and man, he is desperate.
He touches you everywhere he can, in any way he can, and he is a blushy mess.
Loser!Matsukawa who isn’t very good at it first because he is just a little virgin baby :( but you teach him and ride him gently, kiss him softly, and after that, he handles it pretty well on his own.
Loser!Matsukawa who makes love to you once, and he thinks you’re the love of his life.
sending mattsun dirty texts while he's at work and then he goes and leaves you on read. you're furious and a little hurt, until half an hour later there's a knock at your door and a very visibly aroused mattsun calmly tells you to go wait on the bed while he rolls up his sleeves and flexes his hands. he smirks at your surprise, tilting your head up with a thumb as his large palm cups you through your shorts. "what's that look for? thought you needed me."
