synopsis. matsukawa issei is the nonchalant classmate who sits besides you in class— he also happens to be your crush. a secret you’ll take to the grave.
content. f!reader, twin!iwaizumi, crack, fluff, mild explicit language, hints of iwaoi? + mentions of oikawa toru & hanamaki takahiro.
series. part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven, part eight: coming soon.
author's note. hiya!! if you are seeing this and you’ve previously read my matsukawa texts, please beware — i am deleting them so i can redo them 🧍🏽♀️. i know i can do better. also, i apologize for any spelling errors, i’ve reread it about a 100 times but i’m blind so i probably missed some mistakes.
taglist. @jellissante , @sinsxo , @depressinglyobsessed , @rrk-r , @anzuuhoshi , @jazfartz2 , @eternallyangellic , @literaleftist , @r-u-amused , @crystaldreamland , @lovgfrd , @sincerelyryu , @chi-ru-no-yuukkiiii , @scarymygodurdivine , @p4lli , @forgottensniper , @babizonas . i couldn’t remember all the users who asked to be tagged in the previous post. if you’d like to be tagged: comment or send an ask <3
“Oh, this is amazing!” Matsukawa-san cheers, snapping away. Your own mother stands with her hands folded in front of her chest, like a prayer.
“No, don’t let go,” Matsukawa-san demands when you try to pull your hand out of Issei’s grip. “This is too cute.”
You’re four years old and it’s your first day of kindergarten. And of course, Issei is coming along.
-
Your parents - your mothers, to be specific - meet in one of these ridiculous pregnancy prep courses, where you learn how to breathe properly and spend too much money on multivitamins. They bond over all those things women tend to bond about - the brand of their shoes, the fact that this is going to be their first and only pregnancy, or the seemingly sweet idea of not wanting to know your baby's gender until birth.
Only that they both know exactly what they want their baby to be.
The Matsukawas are hoping for a girl. The nursery has already been painted a pale pink, and princess dresses arrive in every gift from every possible family member or friend. They believe in manifesting their dreams, so they do.
And your parents, well, your parents own a Funeral Home, or rather, your Dad does, like his Dad and others before him. He doesn’t consider the possibility of having a daughter, because why would he? It’s not going to happen.
Only it does.
- - -
“No, Issei, don’t drag your hands through her hair, your hands are dirty.”
“Sweetie, don’t bite Issei, that’s not nice. I said no biting!”
- - -
Kindergarten seems nice. Lots of children your age, with a playground outside and rooms filled with toys inside.
It seems fun enough that you can tolerate having to hold Issei’s hand on the way there, the way he makes too big steps, and drags you along, or the fact that Matsukawa-san takes pictures of you every single morning.
She’s obsessed with putting you into cute little dresses.
But Kindergarten is only nice until you have to start sharing those nice toys.
“No,” you hold onto the doll you’d picked out, her hair short like you want yours to be. “I’m playing with this one now.”
“But I want it!” The other girl is bigger than you, and meaner too, tugging on the doll with all her might. “Give it to me!”
“She said no!” Issei points out from your side, smacking her in the face with what you later learn is one of his shoes.
He gets detention for that.
You save him half of your dessert.
-
In here, where your parents aren’t constantly trying to force you to play with each other, Issei is not half bad.
He lets you join him and the boys when they’re playing ball - you’re really fast and you’ve got a good aim - and when he gets bored or the weather is bad, he sits next to you and keeps the mean girls away, making up stories for all the dolls.
But you can’t have any nice things with all those adults around.
-
“They are getting along very well,” your teacher explains when your parents visit. “I’d call these two best friends if I’ve ever seen one.”
Your mother clutches her pearls, and Matsukawa-san wipes away a tear before it can destroy her perfect makeup.
“Is that true?” They ask in unison while your fathers share a knowing look.
You lean in as if to hug Issei… and bite his arm as hard as you can.
- - -
“Please, Hanamaki-kun, could you sit in between these two?” Sensei asks a tall, gangly boy with pinkish hair. “I can already tell they’re going to be trouble.”
You scowl. Issei pulls a face. But Hanamaki perseveres, slipping into the chair between the two of you.
“What’s the matter?” He asks when Sensei’s back is turned. “Are you siblings?”
“Separated at birth,” Issei nods. “No,” you hiss, “We were switched at birth. Switched.”
“That’s the same,” Issei drawls.
“It’s not.”
“It is.”
“Is not.”
“Is too.”
“You two,” Sensei turns back, glaring. “If I hear one more word from you, you’ll get detention. Did I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Sensei.”
-
Hanamaki is like a leech. But a nice one.
He’s impossible to get rid of and impossible to ignore. He’s as tall as Issei, which you hate, but he knows more jokes than you’ve ever heard. And he never snitches.
“So,” Hanamaki pulls three Chuupets out of a mixed bag and offers one to each of you. “Do you guys hate each other or not?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Issei asks, biting into his sweet and slurping it up.
“Yeah, I thought I made it clear.” You add, knocking your knee against his in the hopes of making him choke. “Also, why did you get pineapple? I wanted pineapple.”
“You hate pineapple.”
“I don’t hate it,” you disagree, “I just didn’t want it the last time.”
“Every single time we had Chuupets, you didn’t want pineapple,” Issei points out. “What am I supposed to do, throw it back up like a mother bird?”
“You could have asked,” you argue, knocking your knee against his again. “He could have asked, right, Hanamaki?”
Hanamaki makes a face as if he’s thinking about it. “I think you should throw it back up,” he decides. “It would be gross, but also kind of cool.”
Issei’s face falters next. “I don’t think I can do that.”
“I can!” You tell them, not sure of it at all, but you won’t let them best you in anything. “It’s not that hard.”
“You can’t.”
“Can too.”
-
Hanamaki isn’t the only thing new about Elementary School.
It’s a little further away, and a bus takes you back and forth, one that your parents can’t ride with you.
One ride takes twenty minutes, which makes forty glorious minutes each day where you and Issei can sit right at the back, hide behind the backrest of the row ahead, and just… talk.
“I like Hanamaki,” Issei declares on the ride back home that first day, offering you a Chuppet he must have kept for later. It’s pineapple flavored.
“Me too,” you agree, pulling a chocolate from your own backpack to share with him. “He’s funny.”
Issei considers that for a second.
“Funnier than me?”
“No, just different.” You take a bite of the pineapple-flavored Chuupet and grimace. “This is disgusting.”
Issei grins. “Told you.”
- - -
“A Volleyball Camp?” Your mother asks, looking surprised. “But isn’t that too boyish for you? Matsukawa-san has found some really great camps for girls, you know.”
“Yeah, sure,” you nod, bowing your head a little. “But we’ve been playing it in school, and I like it.”
“I don’t know,” your mother says, drawing out the syllables. “I will have to talk to Matsukawa-san about that. She really wanted you to go to this one camp. What was it called? Something about modelling, I’m sure.”
“I thought you’re my Mom,” you point out, and the flush in her cheeks tells you you’ve said the wrong thing. Again.
“We’re paying for Issei’s camp,” your mother tells you primly, clinging to her pearls. “So it’s only right that Matsukawa-san has a say in your holiday plans as well.”
“But Issei’s going to Volleyball Camp too.”
“Oh?” Your mother's mood switches terrifyingly fast. “Is that so? Well, in that case, I think I can allow it. You two really are close, aren’t you?”
“No, that’s not it! We just happen to both like the same- Mom!” You protest when it becomes clear she’s no longer listening.
-
Volleyball Camp is fun. There are not many girls there, but you’re too talented to be kept to the side as a manager, so they let you play along with the boys.
You make the most of it. Hide behind the changing rooms with Issei and Hanamaki to plan out pranks. You get caught pretty fast, but not after making an ass of the star player, pretty little Oikawa Tooru.
- - -
Junior High
“Here,” Iwaizumi offers you half his chocolate. “I still owe you for back in camp.”
You glance at the sweet. You remember him from Volleyball Camp, but not what he owes you. “Why?”
“No one dares to make fun of Oikawa. It was hilarious.”
“Thanks,” you take the offer. “But aren’t you his best friend?”
“So?” Iwaizumi shrugs. “I guess we’re like you and Matsukawa.”
“In love?”
He blushes a feverish red. “What? Yuck! No! Are you-?!”
You laugh. “Relax. I hate him and I don’t hate him. I was just teasing you.”
“That was mean.”
You shrug. “Maybe a little.”
With Iwaizumi and Oikawa around, you’re sure Junior High isn’t going to be half bad.
-
“What’s going on with you?” You ask Issei on the way home. The bus route has gotten longer, but neither of you minds.
“Nothing.” He knocks his knee into yours. You knock yours back into his.
“You’re an awful liar.”
“Am not.”
“Are too. Don’t try to distract me.”
He pouts. Looks out the window.
“Your Dad,” he finally offers as an explanation. “He wants me to start working with him. Just once a month to get training in.”
You sit up straight. “WHAT? I have been asking him for ages to teach me!”
Issei cringes. “I know. What am I supposed to do?”
“Well,” you hesitate suddenly. “What if you ask if I can join?”
“He’s not your Mom.”
“Right.” You sigh. “I wish your Mom had a cool job like my Dad.”
Issei cringes. “I wish my Dad would let me help him with work. But it’s always ‘You’re not good with numbers, Issei.’”
“He’s a dick,” you say emphatically. “You are good with numbers.”
“Thanks.” Issei leans his head against the window. “But he’s right.”
It’s unusual to see him this down. Rare enough that it shakes you out of your jealousy.
You lean in, the familiar scent of him washing over you.
Your mother washes Issei’s clothes. It’s a stupid thing, really, but it all started with Matsukawa-san’s obsession with pretty dresses. And it didn’t seem fair for her to do your clothes and Issei’s at the same time, so now your mothers meet twice a week to swap laundry baskets, chatting over your respective growth spurts.
It’s why he always smells like your mother's laundry detergent, the softener she uses for your father's clothes, like home and yet, not home, because Issei always smells like himself too.
You lean in a little further, until your chin rests on his shoulder and your cheek presses against his.
Issei is warm and solid, trustworthy despite his sometimes awful attitude.
Seeing him hurt hurts you too, in a way you don’t want to think about, not now, not ever.
Overwhelmed by that strange buzz in your chest, that fuzzy feeling in your stomach, the warmth in your veins, you open your mouth and dig your teeth into his cheek.
Issei yelps.
And then he fights back.
They kick you off the bus less than five minutes later.
Ahead of you, a boy and a girl are holding hands.
Mattsun nudges you and nods in their direction.
"This could be us, but you're playing."
You kick him in the shin.
-
“Hey,” Issei drops into the seat on your right, his shoulders heavy with a burden only you know about.
“Hey,” you nudge his knee with yours, but do nothing against him sinking into you.
“You look like hell, man,” Iwaizumi points out. “Are you sick?”
Issei shakes his head and closes his eyes, falling asleep with his head on your shoulder.
You could shake him off. Kick him in the shin. Bite him. But you don’t quite dare when you know he’s feeling like hell.
“What’s going on?” Iwaizumi asks, whispering over the sound of pens scratching over paper, pages being turned. “Do you know something?”
“He’s started working for my Dad,” you whisper back. “They had to burry a kid this weekend.”
Iwaizumi pales.
You wonder if he, too, needs comforting now. Like Issei did, late last night, sneaking into your bedroom through the open window.
It’s hard work, you know. Your Dad never made it look easy.
But you wonder, not for the first time, if this is where it stops being fun and games.
They can’t keep switching you around forever. Not when it breaks Issei in the end.
-
You give him another week.
Not because you want to, but because he asks you too.
One week of him slipping into your bedroom at night, your bed too short for his long legs, his arms always knocking against something as he tries to get comfortable.
In the darkness, you can admit that you like this.
The shared warmth, giggling when his breath tickles your neck.
And he’s always gone in the morning, way before your heart can kick up the dust that has settled over your anxieties.
-
“I want to continue working there,” Issei tells you on Friday, looking over the school grounds from his perch on the rooftop ledge. “I’m sure it will get better.”
You grimace. “What if it doesn’t?”
“What?” He grins. “You think I’m scared.”
“It would be okay if you were.”
“You just want the job for yourself.”
“Yes. And?”
He laughs, the sound unexpected and not less sweet.
“And here I thought you began to like me.”
You scoff. “Don’t lie to yourself.” But you let him pull you into something like a hug, wondering if he, too, misses the scent of his mothers laundry detergent.
You start working for his Dad the very next day.
- - -
High School
“And then I dared him to kiss Emi,” Oikawa finishes, waving his hands around. “Now we wait what will happen. Hanamaki is with him to make sure he does it.”
You stare at him. Oikawa laughs awkwardly. “What? It’s funny.”
Iwaizumi scowls low under his breath. “You idiot. Don’t you-”
You get up before he can finish his sentence. “I think I wanna make sure he does it, just as much as Hanamaki. Where did you see them last?”
“The Gym,” Oikawa helpfully supplies and off you go, your hands shaking with a rage you didn’t know yourself capable off.
It’s not like this is the first step into the foreign land of dating. Not for you and not for Issei. Even Iwaizumi has gotten confessed to already, although he’s still working on the “accepting the confession” part.
But- But-
You spot Hanamaki first, his telltale head of hair. You slip your left shoe off, aim and nail him in the head with it.
“What the f-” He ducks when he sees you aim the next shoe, and that’s just as well, because he’d been standing in the way.
Issei catches your other shoe, blinking in surprise. “What did I do now?”
“You know exactly what you did!” You shriek, stomping over. “A dare?!”
“Oh,” Issei blinks once more. “That. Oikawa told you?”
You’re still shaking with rage, unable to get the words out. There are no words for what you’re feeling, this kind of betrayal that runs red hot through your insides.
“Are you jealous?” Hanamaki asks, and he’s lucky Issei knows you better than the rest of them, that he’s not afraid to step in and pull you back by your shoulders when you’re already launching yourself forward.
“Let me go!” You hiss, trying to break free from what could have been a hug but feels more like a straight jacket. “I’ll kill him.”
“You wouldn’t survive in jail.”
“Try me.”
Hanamaki rolls his eyes. “I’m gonna leave now.” He salutes you, or maybe rather Issei, before turning away.
Issei’s still holding you, though his head rests now on top of yours, as if keeping you contained is no work at all.
“You’re dead to me,” you tell him, trying to sound as mad as you feel.
“Mhm,” he makes in the back of your throat. “For what? For eating dirt.”
“No, you know what for.”
“I’m not sure, because I ate dirt before and you didn’t react like that then.”
“You didn’t eat dirt just now.”
“I did,” he sounds actually proud of it. “But now I won’t get to see Oikawa’s face when Makki tells him. Shame on you.”
All fight leaves you. Issei still keeps a hold on you.
“You ate dirt? But Okaiwa said he dared you to-”
“Kiss Emi or eat dirt. And wouldn’t you know, the ground behind the Gym tastes just like last time.”
“Let me turn around!” You whine when he keeps you firm in his hold. “I need to look you in the eyes so I can smack you over the head.”
“Nah,” He curls around you a little more, tightening his hold. “I think I prefer it this way. I’m your straightjacket now.”
You’re pretty sure you could fight your way to freedom. You’ve done it before, during pillow fights and other times.
But Issei’s warm. He smells good. And he didn’t kiss Emi. He didn’t kiss anyone at all.
-
“Issei?” You slip through his bedroom window, hissing when you step on the buckle of his belt on the floor.
He grunts sleepily and you make your way to his bed, the room familiar from all the times you were forced to visit as a child.
It’s been a while since he snuck over. A while since he had nightmares from working at the funeral home.
His back is warm when you slip under the covers, his bare skin as familiar as if it were your own.
“I had a dream just now,” you admit into the quietness of his room. “But I’m not sure if I was dreaming or if I was still a little bit awake.”
“Hmm?”
Your heart races as you press your face into the crook of his neck, willing yourself to talk.
But the words won’t come.
You can’t tell him. Unshed tears burn, but these won’t come either.
“What did you dream off?” Issei asks, turning. His chest is even warmer, his hands familiar with the shape of you, pulling you in.
“Was it me?”
“Mhm.”
“Was it a nice dream?”
“Mhm.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “Did we kiss?”
“Mhm,” you’re almost unable to make the sound. But he must have known, right? How else could he have guessed.
“Funny,” he yawns as if he doesn’t care at all. “I had the same dream before you barged in here.”
Quiet settles as you process his words. One after the other after the other.
His skin is warm against yours. His breath washes over you.
“Want to try and see if it’s like we dreamed?”
In the end, you’re not sure who said it. Sometimes your voices sound too similar to keep them apart.
- - -
There’s always been a part of Issei only you knew.
You know the depths of his anger, and how easy it can be for him to cry.
You know the pranks he’s pulled as a child, some that will never be mentioned ever again, and you know that he prefers to sleep with his socks on.
You know which color lipstick he likes best on you. That he’s ticklish on his sides. That his eyes flutter shut when you kiss the side of his mouth, or the curve of his brows.
-
“Where are you going?” Your mother asks.
“Out,” you slip into your shoes. “I’m going on a date.”
She gasps. “A date? With who? Does Matsukawa-san know?”
You still and stare up at her. “Why should she know?”
The angry red flush on her cheeks tells you that you’ve said the wrong thing. Again.
“After everything she’s done for you, it’s only fair-”
“She’s not my Mom,” you point out, that rebellious streak never leaving you. “You are. And I’m telling you that I’m going on a date.”
She’s pale now. Shaken.
“Do I know him?”
“You do,” you nod. “Someone from my school.”
“And?”
“And I’ll be back in time.” You lean in to kiss her on the cheek. “Don’t wait for me.”
-
“I told my Dad I’m out with Makki,” Issei says when you meet him at the end of the street, your hand finding his like it was always meant to be.
“And Makki?”
“Makki knows I’m with you.”
You grimace.
“Makki doesn’t snitch.”
“He might.”
“He wouldn’t.”
You roll your eyes. “It’s your sorry ass if he does.”
“You like my ass.”
You roll your eyes even harder. “You wish.”
-
Life is good when you’re with Issei. When it’s just you and him. When you can forget about the anger inside you and the unfairness of the world around.
But sometimes it still manages to intrude on your moments.
“Sometimes I think I should run away,” Issei admits one evening, the two of you huddled up on a swing set meant for smaller children than you are, pretending that the city lights below you are a worthwhile exchange for the stars you cannot see.
“Yeah?” You rest your head on his shoulder. “Where to?”
“Not sure. Europe, maybe. Oikawa is talking about going to Argentina. And Iwaizumi is applying to some College in America.”
“You couldn’t survive without Makki in the same country as you,” you tease him, your heart beating double time trying to catch up with your head.
But Issei’s always been quicker at this than you are.
“Could you survive without me in the same country?”
You purse your lips. The words are hard to come by. Not because you don’t know what to say, but because you’ve learned how dangerous it is to be honest.
But Issei’s got weapons that he knows how to use. The depth of his gaze and the warmth of his hold. It eases the truth from you every single time.
“No,” you admit quietly. “I don’t know how to be myself without you.”
He doesn’t answer right away. But the way he leans into you, heavy and warm and himself in every way, you know he feels the same.
“What if we applied together?”
“Europe?”
He grins. “Three picks each. Better chances.”
-
Issei gets accepted to a College in Scotland. You can’t pronounce the name properly and he teases you about it, counting down the days until your own letter arrives.
You know he wants to go. You can see it in his eyes, in every single movement he makes.
But your letter doesn’t want to come. You hear from Germany first - they won’t take you. Spain arrives next, a thick envelope filled with papers and brochures, the letter heavy with promises of the future. It sits heavy in the first drawer of your nightstand.
You want to go. You want to leave this life behind, be yourself and nothing more… but not without Issei.
-
The letter is too thin. You know what it says without opening it.
So you don’t. Put it in a bag with the others, slide it into your backpack and race down the stairs.
“I’m going out,” you tell your mother in the kitchen, don’t wait for a response.
Issei hasn’t yet stepped out of his house so you race down the street, your heart beating double time to make up for it.
He catches you just in time, slides onto the bus right beside you.
Issei’s heavy against your side, leaning into you with everything that he is.
You wonder if he could burry you, if he tried.
Neither of you talks until you have to step off, cross the street and get onto the train.
Makki waves from where he’s saved both of you a seat. You sit on his left and Issei on his right.
Makki chatters away, swaying into you or Issei everytime the train takes a little turn, but the things he doesn’t say weigh heavier.
-
“I can’t do it!” Oikawa declares with his usual flair, thrusting his letter forward. “Someone else do it for me.”
You pick the letter from his hands and rip it open, ignoring his dramatic whining as you start to read out loud.
“Dear Oikawa Tooru. We are happy to tell you that we welcome you to our team- Wait, team?”
“Yeah,” Oikawa beams proudly. “I’m not going to College. I’m going to become a Professional Athlete instead.”
You stare dumbly down at the paper in front of you. “In Argentina.”
“In Argentina! Iwa-chan, you’re next.”
“I already read it,” Iwaizumi waves his paper about. “I got accepted. California.”
“And you’re going?” You ask. He blinks back at you. “Course. Why wouldn’t I?”
Issei and you share a look. Makki’s quiet for the first time since you’ve met him, all those years ago.
“I got accepted to a College in Spain,” you admit, pulling the colorful brochures out of your bag. “But I’m not going.”
“Because someone needs to take care of Makki,” you point out. “And I’ve already got a job offer from Issei’s Dad.”
“Sure,” Iwaizumi crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re just worried about Makki. Sure.”
“Yeah,” you nod. “Because I’m a good friend, unlike you.”
“That’s not-”
“I’m staying too,” Issei interrupts Oikawa. The brochures in his hands are slick with sweat. “I got a job offer as well. What’s in Scotland that I can’t have here?”
“Girls,” Oikawa offers, squeaking in pain when Iwaizumi hits him over the head.
Makki’s still quiet. Your eyes meet Issei’s over his head and your heart leaps when an idea forms in your head.
“We could move in together. After school.”
- - -
Adult Life
“No,” you stare at the blinking numbers. “NO!”
The door opens. Issei blinks at you, a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth.
“The washing machine isn’t done yet!” You point at the offender. “It said ten minutes left thirty minutes ago!”
Issei grabs you by the shoulders and pulls you out of the room.
You put up a fight but he’s stronger than you, and soon you find yourself on the other side of the door.
“What’s it now?” Makki asks from the kitchen table. He takes a sip of his coffee and grimaces .”The milk went bad.”
“I told you to buy some two days ago.”
“I know,” he pours his coffee down the drain. “But I told you not to tell me what to buy while I’m sitting on the toilet. Have some respect, will you?”
“I-”
Makki turns to glare at you. “I pretend I’m sharing a room with Issei everytime your parents come over. You can let me have my toilet time in peace.”
“Fine,” you huff. “Did you at least buy Cereal?”
“What about toilet time and groceries did you not understand?”
-
Your parents wouldn’t have let you move out on your own.
So when it became clear that you’d do it anyway, they sat down with the Matsukawa’s and offered you a compromise.
They’d pay half of your rent if you’d be willing to take in Issei as a roommate.
You whined and Issei bargained. Now they’re paying half the rent and Makki’s name is on the lease as well.
They come over every second weekend. So far they still have no clue you’re dating.
-
“Look at you,” Issei meets you at the front door half an hour later, his breath minty fresh as he leans in for a kiss. “You look like a proper office bee.”
You grimace. “That doesn’t sound sexy.”
“It is to me.” He presses another kiss against your temple. “Now tell me I look sexy in my suit.”
You give him a once over. “You look decent.”
Issei grins. “Is that supposed to be a compliment.”
“I’ll get you a better suit once I get my promotion.”
“Now we’re talking.” He takes your hand as you head on down the street, toward the subway station. “Do you want to get a drink after work? Spend some time without our annoying roommate?”
“I heard that!” Makki points out two steps behind you. “I’m coming with!”
- - -
The door to your room opens.
You sit up, ready to yell at Makki for waking you early on a Sunday, only to come face to face with your mother. And Matsukawa-san right behind her.
“No one was opening the door,” Matsukawa-san points out politely. “And we have a second set of keys for emergencies.”
Your mouth is dry. On your left, Issei wakes, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he sits up as well. He’s barely wearing any clothes.
“Oh… Well…” Your mother squeaks. “I always knew you two got along well.”
Issei looks at her, slowly registering her words. He looks at his mother, at the impatient curve of her mouth. When he looks at you, you catch a glimpse of a time past.
Of fights during photo sessions and biting him to make sure everyone knew you hated him - even though you didn’t. Of him sitting on top of you or pulling your hair.
You’re not sure who raises the pillow first. But you both try smothering each other at the same time.
“You two are hopeless,” your mothers say, slipping out of the room. “We’ll be in the kitchen, cleaning up. It’s a mess.”
⛧ a = affection (how affectionate is he? how does he show affection?)
mattsun is such a sweetie! even if he doesn't always show it with big, flashy gestures. his affection is more in the quiet, steady ways he cares for you. he'll subtly hold your hand under the table, or rest his chin on your head when you're leaning against him. he's not one for grand declarations every five minutes, but you'll feel his love in the way he makes sure you're comfortable, or by just being there for you, always. it's the best kind of reliable, warm affection!
⛧ b = best friend (what would he be like as a best friend? how would the friendship start?)
oh, he'd be the absolute best best friend, wouldn't he? he'd be the one you could tell anything to, and he'd just listen without judgment, maybe offering a perfectly timed, dry-witted comment that makes you laugh. i imagine your friendship would start with him being a little quiet at first, observing you, and then slowly, you'd discover his amazing sense of humor and how incredibly thoughtful he is, just naturally gravitating towards each other until you couldn't imagine life without him!
⛧ c = cuddles (does he like to cuddle? how would he cuddle?)
he absolutely loves cuddles, even if he pretends to be too cool for them sometimes! he's a big, warm teddy bear, and he'd hold you so securely, making you feel so safe and cherished. he probably wouldn't initiate them with a big "come here!" but if you snuggled into him, he'd wrap his arms around you without a second thought, pulling you closer. his favorite way would probably be spooning, or just having you tucked under his arm while you're watching a movie, while his hand gently strokes your hair.
⛧ d = domestic (does he want to settle down? how is he at cooking and cleaning?)
matsukawa definitely wants to settle down! he has that grounded, steady energy about him that just screams future home-owner. and he's surprisingly good in the kitchen, actually! he might not be a gourmet chef, but he can whip up some really tasty, comforting meals (think hearty stews or perfectly grilled anything). as for cleaning, he's tidy and organized, not obsessively so, but he definitely appreciates a clean space and will always pull his weight without you even having to ask. he's such a dream!
⛧ e = ending (if he had to break up with you, how would he do it?)
ohhh, just thinking about this makes my heart ache :( but if he absolutely had to break up with you, mattsun would handle it with such gentle honesty. he'd sit you down, look you in the eyes, and explain everything calm and clear, making sure you understood his reasons, even if they were painful. he'd never be cruel or ghost you. he'd want to respect the time you shared and make sure you're okay, even if it means hurting himself in the process. it would be heartbreaking, but he'd do it with integrity.
⛧ f = fiancé (how does he feel about commitment? how quick would he want to get married?)
girl, this man definitely takes commitment seriously. he's not one for fleeting romances. once he's in, he's all in (heh). he wouldn't rush into marriage, but once he knows you're the one (and he'd know with that quiet, steady certainty of his), he'd be ready. and he'd want to build a life together, slowly and surely. he'd probably propose in a sweet, understated way, maybe during a quiet evening at home, because for him, it's about the deep connection, not the spectacle.
⛧ g = gentle (how gentle is he, both physically and emotionally?)
(as i said in the nsfw version) he is such a gentle giant, both physically and emotionally! despite his height and strength, his touch is always so soft and reassuring. he'd never hurt you, not even by accident. emotionally, he's incredibly gentle too. he listens with an open heart, and when you're feeling down, he offers comfort and understanding without judgment. he's not one to yell or get easily frustrated with you. his patience is truly endless, and he always handles your feelings with such sweet, tender care.
⛧ h = hugs (does he like hugs? how often does he do it? what are his hugs like?)
mattsun absolutely loves hugs, even if he has a cool exterior! he probably wouldn't initiate them constantly (and i said that like a thousand times already lol), but he'd always respond warmly when you reach for him. his hugs are the best kind: strong, secure, and comforting. he'd wrap his long arms around you and just hold you tight, making you feel completely enveloped and safe. sometimes, he'll just pull you into a quick, firm squeeze when you're passing by, just to let you know he's thinking of you.
⛧ i = i love you (how fast does he say the l-word?)
issei wouldn't say "i love you" quickly, that's for sure. he's not someone who throws words around lightly, especially such important ones. he'd wait until he is absolutely certain, until his feelings are so deep and unwavering that he can't hold them back anymore. and when he finally says it, it would be with such sincerity and profound meaning, probably in a quiet, intimate moment, that it would feel like the most precious declaration you've ever heard. it would mean the world because you'd know he truly, truly means it.
⛧ j = jealousy (how jealous does he get? what does he do when he's jealous?)
mattsun isn't the type to get overtly jealous, but he definitely has his moments! he trusts you completely, but if someone were being a little too forward or disrespectful, you'd see a subtle shift in his demeanor. he wouldn't make a scene, but he'd subtly place a hand on your lower back, or pull you a little closer to him, sending a clear, unspoken message. his eyes might get a little sharper, and his voice a touch deeper, but it's more about protecting you than distrusting you. it's actually kinda hot!
⛧ k = kisses (what are his kisses like? where does he like to kiss you? where does he like to be kissed?)
oh, his kisses are just divine! they start out slow and tender, full of affection, but they can definitely deepen with passion. he loves to kiss your forehead, a sweet, protective gesture, and he adores peppering little kisses (and maybe some love bites) along your jawline and neck. as for where he likes to be kissed, he secretly loves it when you kiss his cheek or his temple, or even just a soft peck on his lips when he's not expecting it. it always makes him give a small, contented smile.
⛧ l = little ones (how is he around children?)
mattsun would be so surprisingly wonderful with children! he has such a calm, patient demeanor, and i can just picture him being the gentle, fun uncle type. he might seem a little unsure at first, but once he gets comfortable, he'd be amazing. he'd play with them patiently, tell them silly stories, and lift them up high to make them giggle. he’d probably be the one to teach them how to gently toss a volleyball, making sure they're having fun. he'd be a natural, truly.
⛧ m = morning (how are mornings spent with him?)
mornings with him are the best kind of slow and peaceful. he's not a super early riser unless he absolutely has to be, so you'd probably wake up slowly, tangled together. he'd have his arm wrapped around you, maybe pulling you closer for a quiet cuddle before either of you even opens your eyes. and he'd make you coffee, and you'd just sit together, reading or just enjoying the quiet company, before starting the day. it’s such a cozy, sweet way to start the day...
⛧ n = night (how are nights spent with him?)
nights with him are just as lovely as mornings, darling. after a long day, he loves to just relax with you. you might cook dinner together, or order in and watch a movie. he'd be happy just having you curled up next to him on the couch, maybe reading a book while he plays video games or just listens to music. before bed, he'd make sure you're comfortable, giving you a warm, tender goodnight kiss. he makes every night feel like coming home. (read more in the nsfw version heheh)
⛧ o = open (when would he start revealing things about himself? does he say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
matsukawa is definitely more of a slow reveal kind of guy. he's not going to spill his life story on the first date! he's observant and a bit reserved, so he'll take his time getting to know you and building trust. as you spend more time together, he'll slowly open up, sharing little bits and pieces of himself, his thoughts, and his past. it's like unwrapping a gift, with each layer revealing something wonderful and deeply personal, and it makes every new discovery feel special.
⛧ p = patience (how easily does he get angry?)
he's incredibly patient! it takes a lot to get him genuinely angry. he has such a calm and steady temperament, so he rarely loses his cool. even in stressful situations, he's the one who remains level-headed and thinks things through. if something frustrates him, he'll usually just sigh or give a dry comment rather than exploding. he's truly a rock, and that's what makes being with him so wonderfully peaceful.
⛧ q = quizzes (how much would he remember about you? does he remember every little detail you mention in passing, or does he kind of forget everything?)
oh, he would remember everything, sweetie! mattsun has this incredible, quiet way of observing and absorbing every little detail you mention, even in passing. you might forget you told him something, but he'll bring it up later, surprising you with how much he cares about the small things. he'd remember your favorite coffee order, that obscure band you mentioned, or a funny fact about your childhood. he truly listens and values everything about you!
⛧ r = remember (what is his favorite moment in your relationship?)
his favorite moment in your relationship, i bet, would be one of those quiet, unassuming ones where everything just clicked. maybe it was the first time you made him laugh so hard his usually stoic facade broke, or a moment when you were just sitting together in comfortable silence, and he realized how perfectly you fit into his life. it wouldn't be a grand gesture, but a simple, profound realization of how deeply he cared for you, a moment that solidified his love.
⛧ s = security (how protective is he? how would he protect you? how would he like to be protected?)
issei is incredibly protective, but in a very understated way. he's not flashy about it, but you'll always feel incredibly safe with him. he'd protect you by making sure you're never alone in a sketchy situation, by standing up for you calmly but firmly if anyone disrespects you, or simply by being your steady presence. as for how he likes to be protected, he appreciates knowing you have his back, too. a simple "you okay?" or defending his character if someone misunderstands him means the world to him.
⛧ t = try (how much effort would he put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
he puts in so much effort, even if he doesn't shout it from the rooftops! for dates and anniversaries, he'd plan thoughtful experiences that he knows you'd love, probably with a subtle romantic touch. for gifts, he'd choose things that are incredibly personal and meaningful, showing he truly listens to your wishes. in everyday tasks, he's always pulling his weight, helping out without being asked. he's not one for grand, performative gestures, but his consistent, heartfelt effort in everything he does for you is truly amazing.
⛧ u = ugly (what would be some of his bad habits?)
hmm, even the mattsun has a few quirks! he can be a little too sarcastic sometimes, especially when he's tired, but it's usually in a funny way. sometimes he can be a bit of a procrastinator when it comes to chores he doesn't enjoy, like folding laundry. he'll get to it eventually, but it might sit in the basket for a day or two! and occasionally, he gets so absorbed in a video game or a book that he completely loses track of time. but honestly, even these little things are kind of endearing!
⛧ v = vanity (how concerned he is with his looks?)
he isn't overly concerned with his looks, which is one of the things i just love about him! he takes care of himself, of course, but he's not preening in front of the mirror or obsessed with his appearance. he has a quiet confidence that comes from within, not from external validation. he knows he looks good, but he's more focused on being comfortable and practical. he appreciates a good haircut and dressing well for an occasion, but he's not vain at all.
⛧ w = whole (would he feel incomplete without you?)
oh, darling, i truly believe he would feel a profound sense of incompleteness without you. mattsun is such a steady, grounded soul, and once he lets someone into his heart, they become an integral part of his world. you bring out a softer, more openly joyful side of him that he might not show to others. you're his calm, his comfort, and his quiet joy. he wouldn't be broken, but he would definitely feel a significant piece of himself is missing, and his world would be a little less vibrant without you by his side.
⛧ x = xtra (a random headcanon for him)
here's a little headcanon i've been thinking for quite a while: mattsun has a secret, surprisingly good singing voice. he'd never, ever sing in front of a crowd, but sometimes, when he thinks he's alone in the car or just quietly doing dishes, he'll hum along or softly sing to a song he loves, and it's always such a beautiful, mellow sound! if you ever caught him, he'd probably blush and try to play it off, but it's one of those little hidden talents that just makes him even more charming. (ughhh i love him sm)
⛧ y = yuck (what are some things he wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
he's not a fan of overly dramatic or superficial people. he values authenticity and genuine connection, so anyone who puts on a big show or is constantly seeking attention would probably rub him the wrong way. in general, he also really dislikes overly sweet desserts. he prefers something a bit more savory or subtly sweet. and he absolutely cannot stand clutter or disorganization in his personal space. he likes things to be neat and tidy!
⛧ z = zzz (what are his sleeping habits?)
mattsun's sleeping habits are just as calm and steady as he is! he's a pretty deep sleeper, once he's out, and he tends to sleep soundly through the night. he prefers sleeping on his side, often with an arm wrapped around you, if you're there. he's not much of a snorer, thankfully! he usually wakes up feeling refreshed and ready for the day, not groggy at all. he's just a peaceful sleeper, making him the perfect cuddle buddy all night long.
god, i love mattsun so much i might cry :((( tried to use a different tone on this one and hope i didn't mischaracterize him that bad lmao
LOVING BEFORE WE EVEN KNEW HOW TO | I. MATSUKAWA
⤷ timeskip!matsukawa x fem!reader // 1.9k words
matsukawa’s jaw slacks involuntarily at the sight of your familiar silhouette standing in front of the restaurant he was headed towards. his breath halts as you nervously check the time on your phone, glancing around at the passerby as if you were trying to identify someone you didn’t have sufficient information about. an odd pit forms in his stomach as matsukawa realizes you’re likely waiting on date, given your attire which, he admittedly wants to pause and admire and feels strangely bothered by when he thinks about how its for some stranger.
though seeing his ex-girlfriend quickly snaps matsukawa back to reality, reminding him that he too, was there for a blind date, which he was now likely late for thanks to hun foolishly choosing to spend his precious time observing you.
matsukawa sends a quick text to daishou, letting his classmate know he had arrived at the restaurant and to ask who his mystery date was. daishou’s reply is instantaneous, but the message is only shoddy description of their attire that reads: navy blue something, black boots, looks cool according to mika idk its her friend?
shit, you’re his date.
mustering up all the courage he has, matsukawa beelines in your direction, clearing his throat nervously as he calls out, “y/n, hey!”
matsukawa swears time stopped right at that exact moment, because for a split second, it felt like the world paused for a brief second to watch you in awe. he blinks for a moment, just admiring the way your clothes fit you, as if the fabric was sewn together for the purpose of complimenting your features.
“issei? what are you doing here?” you smile, a surprised, thankfully pleasant expression taking over your features. your welcome manner is a huge relief, as matsukawa instantly takes back the string of curses on daishou’s name he had been chanting in his head as his eyes lingered on the honeyed curve of your lips.
“you know mika?” he responds indirectly, a cheeky grin forming on his face as you tilt your head in confusion and nod before he clears his throat to clarify, “i’m pretty sure she and daishou set us up on a date,”
“oh! so you’re the guy that mika swore up and down i’d get along with and would be perfect for me,” you laugh, realizing that you had never really divulged your past dating history with your former roommate, “wait what the hell this is a crazy coincidence,”
“right, right,” matsukawa spreads his arms out, giving you a little 360 spin to showcase his outfit, “and mika was partially right, y’know? i am prettyy perfect, and well, she did kind of nail it considering that we did get along back in high school,”
“sure, sure,” your roll your eyes, barely holding back the laugh that threatens to escape your lips, “let’s head inside first? i heard the food here’s pretty good,”
-
contrary to popular belief, finding yourself on a blind date with an ex isn’t all uncomfortable. in fact, you could even say that the date was the exact opposite, especially after the two of you got over the initial awkwardness of your history and not having seen each other in a while.
joking with matsukawa felt so natural. each clever joke either of you would quip was swiftly followed up by an equally hilarious response. references slipped out instinctively, and somehow without fail, you both got it, and would be followed up by a symphony of interminable laughter.
and maybe it’s the way he leans in a little when you’re visibly excited to relay tales of your college life and easily relaxes back afterwards with a leisurely smirk that invites you to share more about the years he missed.
that, or it’s how he gives hyperbolic retellings of his adventures or misadventures with makki and odd incidents that occurred at work— which makes you question just what was normal about the things matsukawa encounters on a daily basis as a funeral home employee. the charisma oozing from his deep voice mixed with expressive eyebrows and waving hands as he jovially chastises his best friend for still being unemployed draws you in, mirroring his body language while he listened to you.
or is it the way the two of you ask inquisitive, genuine questions here and there, clearly wanting to know more and more, because the details provided aren’t enough. you’re both greedily drinking in these snapshots of each others lives, but you’re still parched.
being around him was just so comfortable, so natural that you can’t help but let the question of why you two even broke up linger in your mind, and it’s clear that matsukawa was entertaining that thought as well. its evident in the softened corners of his eyes and how he scrambles for excuses to be with you for just a little longer than appropriate for a seemingly quick dinner date.
it’s past midnight now, and the two of you find yourselves in the living room of your apartment. while matsukawa diffidently sits on the couch and admires your furniture in awe, you conclude the root of why your relationship with matsukawa came to an end while brewing two mugs of coffee.
and as if he caught onto your revelation, he brings up the burning question plaguing both your minds.
“i don’t want to dismiss it as ‘we were just young’, but i think we just didn’t know better, you know? our understanding of the scope of world was just so limited,” you carefully answer, taking your time to string together your thoughts as you set down the cups. you slide into the space between the coffee table and couch and he follows suit, the both of you sitting on the ground with your legs huddled closed to your chest. he nods, listening intently as he clings onto every word you utter, searching for hints of a desire for more, something falling out of neutral ground to guide his hope.
“i mean, we weren’t a bad couple, at least i think so. but we were in high school. i don’t really think we even really understood the concept of loving someone romantically,”
“yeah, to be fair, i was also kind of a shit boyfriend,” matsukawa laughs, narrowing his eyes in faux suspicion as you quickly shake your head in dissent.
“you really weren’t! like honest to god, you were pretty good, especially for a high school boyfriend,” you grin, but it falters as your eyes shift and tone becomes a tad bit more serious, “but i mean you can’t shoulder too much unnecessary blame. i kind of had some insecurities and communication issues i had to work out that i didn’t have the confidence and mindset to do so back then”
matsukawa raises his eyebrows in surprise, unsure of what to do with this newfound information. this whole time, he’d been in belief that it was his neglect and immaturity that steered the relationship to failure.
“it’s better now, i think i’m in a healthy state now and i can handle a serious relationship, but god damn, i was so insecure in high school,” you furrow your eyebrows, shuddering a little at the memories of your adolescent self inflicted mental pains. matsukawa smiles softly at this, feeling a small burst of pride erupting from his chest.
“yeah, i think i didn’t really know how to preserve a relationship,” matsukawa sighs, “i’d like to think that after gaining more experience, i now know how to be a proper boyfriend,” matsukawa supplies sympathetically, thinking back to his high school days.
he had never been too serious of a student, always knowing that he’d end up working at the funeral home that his uncle had been running for decades. back then, his only real worries consisted of volleyball and you, and while you absolutely were a priority, premature matsukawa still hadn’t grasped the concept of relationships requiring much work and effort, that he couldn’t just hang out with you on weekends and after practice with friends when it was convenient for his schedule. he didn’t understand why he had to put in the effort to see and be with you, evident in the way the two of you had mutually agreed to separate when the both of you attended universities in different areas, you attending the school of your dreams at handai in osaka, and him in the nearby junior college in furukawa, an easy commute from where he’s lived his whole life.
“but hey! glad that we’ve worked through our high school shit. i don’t think i got the full extent of stuff you were dealing with back then, but i knew it bothered you pretty badly. i’m proud of you, you know? working through that couldn’t have been easy” matsukawa shakes his head at the flurry of regrets.
“yeah, it’s cool y'know? not thinking that everyone secretly hates you and can’t stand being around you. it’s pretty liberating and makes me optimistic that i’d be a much better girlfriend to potential significant others than i was in high school,” you laugh, a small and sincere smile gracing your face. a brief pause falls upon the room as you and matsukawa bask in the revelations and growth the two of you made in the past few years spent apart.
“do you think we would have stayed together if we met at a later time?” matsukawa breaks the silence, glancing down nervously before meeting your eyes once again. it’s borderline comedic how timid he seems for a 6’3, typically smug and laid back guy, though he’d attribute his current disposition to the fact that you make him feel like a stupidly smitten high school boy again.
“probably? i don’t know issei, but i think we loved each other before we even knew how to love,” you muse, resting your chin on your palm and leaning your body a little closer to him. you’re not dense, the idea of a rekindling wasn’t far from the cacophony of thoughts running through your mind, but you wanted to gauge his reactions first before doing anything brash.
“but do you want to test that?” he asks, voice low while and maintaining steady eye contact. you nod silently, and the two of you stay like that briefly, waiting for the other to make a move.
fuck it, matsukawa thinks, and he lets his thoughts spill out to you, “because i do. i want to take you out on a proper date, with flowers and shit to do things right,”
he’s let you go once, and now that he’s in your life again, even just for a day, he’d never forfeit this golden opportunity again. he wouldn’t make those idiotic decisions he made then, and he’d work to rectify those past mistakes and treat you the way you deserved to be treated all along.
“matuskawa issei! are you saying you’re interested in me?” you jokingly gasp, ending your sentence on a higher, dramatic note. your eyebrows are raised and your grin is incredibly wide that it hurts your cheeks
“yeah” he grins, catching the tone of your voice as he exhaled a breath of both relief and incredibly childish eagerness, “i am,”
you smile and matsukawa hesitantly scoots closer to you until your sides touch. you take this as an invitation and guide his arms around your shoulder as you rest your heads against each other as you whisper, “good. i’d love to,”
Your first love; your last chance. With Hanamaki soon to be married you’re invited to join your high school friends for one last night out before the dynamic changes forever. The only thing: you’ve not seen him since your less than smooth break up with his best friend.
notes - it's been literally forever since the last time i wrote a hq fic and i missed it so much tumblr feels like tumblr again
wc - 2.3k
“You don’t have to come.” Iwaizumi’s voice is comforting as he finally speaks after your long rant of all the reasons why you shouldn’t be at Hanamaki’s party—‘how is he the first to be married, Haji?’--“He’d understand; we’d all understand. But that doesn’t mean we don’t want you there.”
“Wanting me there isn’t the problem.” You mumble even though the thought forces your chest to ache. It’s been years since you’d seen all of them together, your most consistent reunion being your annual visit to Iwaizumi, and the occasional addition of Oikawa to that trip, because he was the only one it didn’t feel impossible to still talk to. “I want to be there, I miss Makki like crazy it’s just…” Trailing off, you drop your head to the table and wish your best friend wasn’t on the phone but with you right now.
“I know.” His voice is calm and consistent, “And no one will blame you. You’re invited but it’s your decision whether you come or not. Whatever you decide, no ones going to hate you." You frown knowing he's read your mind through your pitiful mumbling. "Plus, even if you don’t come to the party, you’ll be at the wedding won’t you?”
“I wouldn’t miss that for the world.”
“Then he’ll still see you.”
“Yeah.” You sigh, “I never thought just the idea of seeing Matsukawa was going to hurt so bad.”
You squeeze your hand into a fist three times before you relax; a deep breath following the motion as you walk into the bar where you knew your high school friends would be.
They wouldn’t be expecting you since you’d told Iwaizumi that morning, when he checked in one last time to make sure you didn’t want to attend, that it would just be too much for you. You were so certain you were making the right decision until, an hour before the time they’d get there, that the slight discomfort you’d feel seeing your ex-boyfriend was insignificant compared to how much you wanted to see your friends again.
Oikawa spots you first, his eyes widening and his smile stretching as he stands and holds his arms out for you to walk straight into the warm and welcoming hold you’d forever find perfect. “You made it!” He laughs, rocking the two of you as your arms wrap around his waist. You say nothing until you pull back and smile at him, turning to the shocked Hanamaki, who looks like he’s not sure exactly how to react.
“I couldn’t miss this.” You grin at him, ignoring the urge to glance at the man sat opposite your friend. “Congratulations, Makki.” Smiling brightly, you let go of Oikawa and gladly make your way into Makki’s hold as he stands, still in a stunned silence.
The night is underway quickly and everything feels right. The laughter from Oikawa, the teasing and the stories of the years you’d missed with them. You’re beginning to feel seventeen again, sat at lunch as they rambled on about volleyball strategies and things you’d tried to care about—because they were important to them—but remained completely clueless about.
“Who would have thought,” Oikawa eventually sighed, leaning back in his chair and throwing and arm around the back of yours, just like he used to. “We’d be doing this for you, of all people, first.” His hand pats Makki’s shoulder, who sits beside you with a grin on his face, His hand glides to you, rubbing your shoulder as he continues. “I was so sure it would be you.”
“It almost was.” Hajime, more drunk than he would usually be, speaks without thinking, completely oblivious to the three shocked looks sent his way and your, significantly more annoyed, glare.
“Almost?” Makki’s voice is full of disbelief. “Were you engaged?”
“No,” You reply with a soft laugh, fingers playing with the rim of your glass. For, what feels like, the first time since you sat down, you glance at Matsukawa who stares at you patiently waiting for the next words. “There was talk of it. We broke up before he could.”
“When was this?” Oikawa asks; none of them seem to notice the way your eyes are locked on Mattsun. He stays silent, biting the inside of his cheek knowing that the story you’ve told Iwaizumi and the information you’re about to share is missing one key fact.
He was the man about to propose.
“I was about to graduate.” You turn to Oikawa beside you, the pain in your chest reminding you of the last devastating argument you’d had with Matsukawa. The one that destroyed the relationship you’d both worked so hard to rekindle after your high school break up; one that you knew there was no coming back from. “I didn’t think he was as serious about it all as I was; he thought the only way to prove he was was getting engaged. I loved him so I entertained the idea but it never would have worked out.”
“Are you sure?” Matsukawa asks. You’re certain it’s the first time he’s directly addressed you all evening and you knew you’d need more liquid courage to answer him with anything more than the cracked voice that comes from you.
“No.” A small, nervous smile sits on your face. “But we were young, there was more to do than jump into marriage.” You watch as Iwaizumi glances between the two of you, an eyebrow raising.
“You dodged a bullet, Love.” Oikawa pats your shoulder again, the topic finding it’s conclusion as they fall into conversation about the wedding again, Makki’s excitement bubbling from him as he shares every detail his intoxicated mind can remember.
Matsukawa doesn’t take his eyes off you again, buying another round for the table—remembering you favourite drink that you’d yet to order that night—and managing to be the only one, besides Iwaizumi, not to fall into an almost incoherent state as the night wore on.
It’s soon obvious that the night is coming to an end, Mattsun leaves the table for a moment and, as Makki stands to follow him and almost knocks his chair over in the process, it’s clear that he needs to be taken home.
“Are you sure?” Iwaizumi questions, with another raise of his eyebrow, as you offer to stay and wait for Matsukawa to come back. Makki pulls at Oikawa and the two start to leave, walking slowly so Iwaizumi doesn’t lose sight of them. “Shittykawa can take you home, I’ll wait for—”
“Go.” You smile and push at your friend, you’re drunk enough to feel it but not so drunk you feel as though there’s any need for real worry. “I can get a cab back just get Makki home safe.” Iwaizumi doesn’t look convinced but nods regardless, leaning over to kiss your cheek softly before grabbing both his jacket and Makki’s, the Oikawa had assured him he wouldn’t forget. He follows the other two out, leaving you sat at the table, sipping the last of your final drink. Matsukawa comes back to the table moments later.
“They’re taking Makki home.” You tell him as he sits opposite you. “I should go to, I just didn’t want you to come back to no one.”
“Oh,” He mumbled, looking around the messy table that has been left behind. Yeah, of course.” The two of you stand, a silence falling between you as you both stiffly throw on your jackets. He glances at you for a moment, meeting your eyes as you turn to him at the same time.
The silence continues as you walk out of the bar, side by side and your hands tucked in your pockets. The night air is chilling against you, even through all your layers, you shiver softly. Matsukawa watches you but says nothing.
“It was nice seeing you.” You whisper, smiling at him at the moment you presume you’ll split ways.
“Yeah.” He replies, studying your face. “I guess next time will be the wedding.”
“I guess so.” You turn your head, looking to see if a taxi is anywhere nearby. There’s none in sight but you’re happy to wait as long as it takes whilst the area outside the bar stays busy. You know, if you become desperate, Iwaizumi would come back for you. “Bye, Mattsun.” Turning back t him, you give him a small smile, taking a step away and misjudging the balance you maintained in your state.
He catches you, holding you just long enough for you to regain your footing before his arms are back by his side. “You’ve always been good at hiding how drunk you are.” Mattsun chuckles, “No wonder Iwa let you stay here without him.” He squats in front of you; you hesitate. “He never was great at reading you.”
“Mattsun,” You start, looking down at his toned back and feeling the ache in your chest again.
“Get on.” He ordered, reaching out behind him ready to secure your to him. “Nothing we haven’t done before.” You swallow your nerves, your throat feeling stiff as you cling to him. He stands with your legs around his waist, he holds under your thighs and jostles your ever so slightly to have you in the most comfortable position for the both of you. “Where are you staying?”
You reply softly, your breath tickling his ear and he’s glad you can’t see his face flush in that moment. Falling into a silence, he walks towards your hotel, your arms around him, his body solid underneath you and the occasional adjustment as you slid down his back. He’d make a comment here and there about how little he did this now, how much it felt like he was young again—“You’re twenty-six, idiot.”—util you reach the hotel door.
It's almost disappointing to have your feet on the ground again. Looking at him, you intend to thank him and send him on his way but he gives you a soft look that threatens the promise you’d once given to yourself never to let him in again.
“Do you want to come up?” You’re not sure the words crosses your brain before they escaped you. Was it cruel to think that he would want to after everything the two of you had shared; after having told your mutual friends the two of you had lost your chances to be together.
“You’re drunk.” Was his reply, his hands pushed into his pockets. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Yes I do. Do you want to come up?” You meet his eyes, his expression unreadable to you now.
“Yeah.” His voice is quiet but he makes no effort to move until you reach up and link your arm around his, It feels right to be stood beside him like this again as you walk, the elevator ride to your floor quiet but not uncomfortable and, as you let him in to your room, you’re a little reluctant to let go of him.
He takes hold on your hand as you start to pull from him, his gentle touch easing you further into the room until he can gently urge to to perch on the edge of your bed.
“Let Iwa know you’re back safe.” He ordered once more, gently, with a grin on his face. “I’m sure he’s worried.” You nod, frowning up at him. “What’s that face for?” He chuckles. “Don’t want me to leave?”
“No. Stay.” You whisper, reaching for him. “Please.” He doesn’t respond at first, gently nudging your shoulder instead as you groan and lay on your bed. You kick at the covers, pulling them from the perfectly made hotel bed, and sliding beneath them in the clothes you’d enjoyed the night in. Mattsun would rather you be more comfortable but you don’t seem to care; he’s not sure what rights he has to encourage your changing anymore.
“Go to sleep, Sweetheart.” He ignores your previous plea, pulling his hand from your reach and gently smoothing your hair away from your forehead. “You’re going to feel terrible in the morning.”
“I’d feel better if you were still here.” You close your eyes, feeling his fingers lingering on your skin. “Stay.”
He knows he shouldn’t but there’s a feeling he can’t describe that fills him. Surely, just this once, he can be a little selfish. “Okay.” He whispers. You can hear the sound of his clothes rustling as he peels his jacket from his frame, He shuffles around to the other side of the bed; it dips as he climbs beside you laying on his back and staring at the ceiling just close enough to feel the familiar warmth you instantly craved but far enough to not cave to the urge to touch you.
“Issei.” You whisper his name so softly but, in the silence of the room, he feels as though you’re inside his mind. “Do you ever think,” You pause to find your words, your mouth feeling dry. “that maybe we just had the wrong time?” He turns to look at the back of your head, the cover tightens around your shoulder as you grip it closer to you.
Rolling on to his side, he reaches out to gently squeeze your shoulder—as he knew Oikawa would do to offer you any sort of comfort. “Yeah.” He admitted softly, “All the time.”
“Do you,” You shift until you’ve turned to face him again, your eyes finding his in the dark. “ever think that maybe we could give it one more try, not as hopeful kids?”
“I think about you, about us, more than you could even fathom.” His hand gently cradles you face, thumb rubbing gentle circles in your skin. “Is this the drink talking?”
“No.” You frown at the accusation, eyes boring into his with an emotion he’s missed for years.
“Then ask me again in the morning.” He pulls you close to him, his arms wrapping around you as you settle into his chest, a soft careful kiss is placed into your hair; your craving is instantly satisfied. “We can talk about us for as long as we need.”
➣ includes : boyfriend!matsukawa issei. and lord this is sooo suggestive but it never crosses into actual smut, it's just.. kind of intense making out and hickeys. this is probably ooc but I DONT CARE! HE'S SEXY OOC!!!
note : for my love @angelkiyo bc she gave me some inspo n i luv her <333 i got totally off track from ur original idea about mattsun n makki eating crazy edibles so yeah ummmm......
"let me know if you like it" matsukawa issei grins at you, waiting for you to eat the cookie in your hand held above your head. you're splayed across his bed, head hanging off it, turned to face your boyfriend. he's close to you but sitting on his rug with his back leaning against his bed. his arms rest on his knees, head lazily lolling back, copying how you've turned to face him.
you inspect the chocolate chips warily. last time you and mattsun got baked, it had you talking to the frank ocean poster on his wall for an hour and then going completely silent, no talking, for the rest of the night. staring at the wall silently while you desperately tried to regain your composure had become a common occurence when getting high. mattsun suggested you should slow down on it, and you agreed. but recently, you had been incredibly stressed, and it had been a a month or two since you had given up weed. so when your boyfriend proposed a sesh to help ease your mind, you happily accepted. that didn't mean you weren't having at least some reservations.
"i know you've been greening out on the old shit," he takes a bite, "that's why i got a new plug. i haven't greened out yet, but i know you're low tolerence."
"you didn't have to do that, 'sei" your eyebrows raise, flattered that he would go to the trouble to do something as tedious as that.
"anything for you, pretty girl," he shrugs, and gives you a small kiss, pulling back with a lazy smile that was enough to make you feel out of it without even eating the cookie, "and i didn't really fuck with the other dude anyways, always getting my stuff late. this new guy has edibles which is so much better than having to bake it myself"
you gasp. "i thought you liked baking them with me!" you roll over onto your stomach, folding your arms to rest your chin on them, pouting. "aw baby, don't pout," he pokes your cheek, "y'know i like baking with you, we can just bake something normally." you try not to smile which only makes his grow wider. "now eat that quick i wanna go see a movie" he nods to the cookie still in your hand, and you take a bite, emphasizing each chew sarcastically. "okay but if i start tripping out trying to kiss frank ocean again it's your fault"
"i'll break you guys up, no problem. i can't have you kissing him"
"what? are you jealous?"
"yeah, of you. as soon as i break you guys up, it's my turn to kiss him. i'll defend his honour and everything"
"i can't believe you would choose frank ocean over me- you know what just... go grab your keys."
mattsun pulls into the drive-in movie, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on your thigh. you continue to demolish the burger in your hand, a big grin on your face to see the movie playing was jennifer's body. "i love this movie!!" you exclaim through bites as megan fox holds a lighter to her tongue. "yo slow down" matttsun laughs and grabs the fast food bag from your lap. that pulls your gaze away from the movie to him as you lick your fingers clean from sauce, then widen your smile. "thank you for the food, baby"
he doesn't know what it is, but that has him feeling some type of way. maybe it's the weed, or maybe it's the fact that you just look so good right now. tank top spaghetti strap lazily slipping off your shoulder and little shorts riding up your thighs, makeup marinated and lip liner almost entirely smeared off under the gloss. he wanted to kiss it completely off, he wanted to slide both straps off your shoulder, he wanted you.
his pupils dilate even more, and he leans over to kiss you. your initial surprise dissipates into comfort as you melt into his touch. you tuck a stray curl behind his ear at the same time his hand goes to rest on the back of your neck. "mm, what was that for?" you giggle when he pulls away. "you just had a lil somethin' on your lips. had to get it for you"
"you're so sweetttt," you're drawing out your words, feeling dizzy from his sudden kiss, "you're sooo good to me" he love how affectionate you can be with your word when high. you refocus on the movie with a content expression on your face.
"you're so cute. i just kissed you, that's all." he muses, and he breaks your attempted concentration on the movie with a kiss to your neck. as he sucks a purple mark into your soft flesh, your breath hitches. "issei..."
"you're so sensitive like this." you can feel his teasing smile against your skin, and you internally roll your eyes. as if he isn't equally sensitive. he doesn't try to hide it, a small groan leaving his lips when his hand returns to its place on your thigh and you grip his forearm. the noises you're making has him feeling lightheaded, and he can't get enough of you. "'sei please can't you see i'm trying to watch a movie?" you complain while you lean into his touch especially when his thumb rubs on your skin. your thighs close on his hand, and he smirks, still pressing small blooming bruises into your neck. "'m sorry baby, i just can't get enough of you"
Can I request number 22 for Mattsun, please? I can just imagine having him as my best friend in high school that I have a huge ass (not so) secret crush on and he’d be such a little shit about itttt ((and the feeling’s always been mutual but i was too dense to notiiiiccceeedjfjdjsk))
i loved this request!! also sorry for taking so long school is kicking my ass but once summer is here i'll be able to focus on the requests so they're coming guys i promise!
200 milestone event!
matsukawa + 22 ("does it make you nervous when i stare?" / "yes! so stop staring!" / "oh absolutely not")
matsukawa's big crush on you had been obvious to everyone.
well everyone but you.
it was obvious in the way he would always walk you to your class which led to him almost being late every morning. waiting for you outside of your club room no matter how long it took so he could walk you home. he would give you his lunch if you forgot it at home one day. tying his scarf around you during the winter to keep you warm while he pretended not to shiver.
and it was very obvious that the feelings were reciprocated, in the way your cheeks would turn a bright shade of red whenever his hand would brush against your knee and when you could feel his minty breath fan across your face when he would whipser a dumb joke to you in class. everyone knew, even him. and he took that to his advantage.
right now the two of you lay sprawled out on his bedroom floor. even though the door is closed you can hear the ruckus on his little siblings coming from the living room. the two of you had been taking a break from studying for your next test for about five minutes, scrolling on your phones in silence. it was comforting.
"okay," you start, moving yourself off the floor to look back at the papers that are all over the floor "we need to finish studying mattsun." you poke at his leg, to which he groans.
"i've accepted my fate, i'm going to fail this test." he sits back up, running a hand through his disheveled hair and you try really hard to not stare at him, but it was difficult when he looked that good. his school tie hanging loose around his neck, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up with exposed the veins from his hands that led up to his forearms.
shaking your head and going back to focus on the array of math problems in front of you, you feel him lean towards you, a little too close to be considered friendly and you can smell that familiar scent of mint as he asks in a soft voice, “do you understand this problem?” his pen points to the problem he was having trouble with. with cheeks flushed a hue of pink, you nod your head, trying to contain yourself.
you begin to explain the problem and how to solve it, trying hard to stay focused even tho his hand was drawing patterns on your knee and you could feel his brown eyes staring at you instead of the problem that you’re working hard to teach it to him. even though he’s accepted his fate, you weren’t going to let him.
“…so the inverse of the sin is one over sin and…”you begin to trail off, losing concentration due to the close proximity between the two of you.
“and?” he teases, moving closer. you look up to him and look into his brown eyes and your cheeks go from pink to red. you try and maintain eye contact with him and he notices how your pupils dilate the longer you keep looking into his eyes. you notice that slowly, as the seconds pass he’s moving closer to you. the nerves in your system taking over you look away, a hand coming to cover your embarrassed face.
“can you not do that?” you ask, face still hidden in your hands.
“do what?” he pretends to act confused. he knows what he’s doing.
“stare at me.” you admit shyly.
“oh?” he leans in closer, you can feel his minty breath in your ear when he whispers, “does it make you nervous when i stare?” he hand comes to cup your face, forcing you to look at him. you immediately notice the beauty mark that’s above his cupids bow.
“yes. yes it does, so stop staring” you whisper
“oh absolutely not” he teases. he takes this opportunity and leans in to press a soft kiss to your lips. he pulls away and is met with your stunned expression. he’s trying hard to not smile but it’s hard when you look so cute to him. he feels you tug at his loosened tie, pulling him into you and you lock your lips with him again. holding him there with his school tie as everything around the two of you fades away.
since he had already accepted his fate of failing this test, maybe he could spend some time studying you.
Fluffy workplace romance working at a funeral home with your crush Matsukawa, for my workplace romance event <3
requested by @haikyuuadict. word count; 706 – gn!reader
How did you end up as Mattsun’s regular work partner, you say? It’s because none of the other workers can stand your superior humour. Or everyone else found both of you annoying and decided to group you for every shift you had. From making inappropriate jokes in meetings to asking for second rounds of wine at church, you two were certified menaces to work with.
Jokes on them, you two love working together. To the extent that you developed an unspoken crush.
When the whole team was invited to a work party in October, hosted in the less morbid parts of the funeral home, you both looked at each other with wicked grins.
It’s October, surely this is a costume party.
So the two of you showed up with sheets over your heads and sunglasses on top to mark your faces, making spooky sounds with your arms raised when you entered.
The majority of your coworkers frowned in near disgust, shaking their heads and looking away. You couldn’t see that well, so you lifted your sheet discreetly and took a sharp breath at the sight.
“Matsukawa,” you whispered, slapping your hand on his arm. “No one else is wearing costumes.”
“What?” he whisper-yelled, copying your move of lifting the sheet, but a little less discreetly. Your eyes travelled down from his face to his formal shirt, unbuttoned at the top for a breather, probably thinking he would wear the costume all night.
“Couldn’t even throw on a tie?” you teased, ears red when his eyes travelled down your pretty blouse and suit pants in return.
“Well, not all ghosts got invited to fancy parties. Didn’t you literally wear that to work last week?” he teased back, and the two of you eventually just let the sheets rest on your shoulders like informal capes.
“Hey, our job requires formal attire. Didn’t know you took such great notice of my outfits, anyway.” You walked over to the buffet table, pulling Matsukawa along by the wrist.
The two of you ended up sitting across from each other on a table in an adjacent room, each with a paper plate filled with food and trying to stifle your laughter.
“You? I can’t imagine you were that terrifying on the court, Matsukawa,” you commented after he told you more about his volleyball career.
“I didn’t need to look scary. They all fell in love with me and refused to hit the ball past me.” Your laugh sounded more like a snort, a sound that made Mattsun smile. The kind of smile that suggested you were the brightest light source in the room.
“Understandable.”
“Hey, why do you still call me Matsukawa?” he questioned as your laughter died down.
“We’re coworkers,” you said, but it didn’t sound as confident as you wanted it to. “You call me by my last name, too.”
“What if we stopped doing that? It’s mostly just the two of us at work, I don’t think our other coworkers could dislike us any more than they already do.”
You pulled the sheet back over your head, trying not to laugh at the joke that brewed in your mind before you even got to say it. “They’re such boomers,” you said, putting a spooky voice effect around the word boo.
Mattsun wishes he had a plan for what he did next, but it surprised him just as much as it surprised you. He leaned forward, tilting his head and pressing his lips against yours over the ghost sheet.
Neither of you moved much, taking in the rough feeling of the cheap sheet before leaning away, only for you to throw the costume off to stare at him.
“Issei,” you whispered. And the smile you gave him next was one he swore could have woken the dead. You leaned forward with one hand between you on the table, the other taking hold of his shirt to pull him closer for another kiss.
This time you got to enjoy it, even letting your tongue have a taste of the poorly brewed coffee that lingered on his lips.
With such a depressing profession, he felt lucky you ended up in the same place, a light to hold his hand through the darkness.
