Hanamaki - Tumblr Posts
ABOUT THAT SUMMER
Chapter 1: Stolen kiss 2/2
Part 1
Chapter 2
…poor Makki.
We’ll always be together…
Which is the silliest duo in Haikyuu? And why Matsuhana? 😆🩵
I love them.
🌸HAPPY B-DAY HANAMAKI TAKAHIRO!🩷
Who's the best big brother ever?? I imagine him as a protective sweet older brother, that would do anything for his little sister!
18+ minors and ageless blogs do not interact!
"oh, good"—takahiro's familiar head of strawberry blonde hair pops up over the back of the sofa as you step through the door, toeing off your work shoes in the narrow entryway of your shared apartment—"you're home!"
he pushes the gaming headset he's wearing off his ears, leaving it and his controller abandoned on the couch as he pulls himself up over the back of it. his long legs carry him quickly across the width of your modest home, and before you know it he's upon you—taking your bag from your hands and helping you free your arms from your coat.
you laugh a little at his eagerness as he impatiently tugs your outerwear off. "yeah, i'm home."
"thank god," he replies solemnly, setting the bag you take to work with you off to the side. he takes your hands in his and uses his hold on them to tug you forward towards him. he peers down at you, 186cm of man with the most deceptively soft flutter of his lashes. "sit on my face?"
"takahiro!"
your protest is half chastising and half a giggle, and when you try to pull your hand from his to swat at his chest he just twines your fingers together and holds you tighter. he pouts a little at you in the wake of what he interprets as refusal.
"baby, i've been waiting for you to get home for hours," he tells you pointedly, pulling you a bit closer so your bodies are flush against each other. his hands slip nimbly to your hips, simultaneously pawing at you and pressing you as close to his body as humanly possible. you don't miss the press of something firm in his sweatpants as he holds you against him—nor do you doubt the veracity of his statement in the wake of the sensation.
"at least let me shower," you barter with him, pressing weakly against his chest in a halfhearted attempt to escape his insistent touches.
he shakes his head. "can't wait."
"hiro," you laugh, squeezing your eyes shut, "i just walked in the door."
"i know," he replies, dipping down and dotting a kiss to your temple. "you must've had a long day."
you hum in agreement, luxuriating for a moment in the soft press of his lips as they slip down to your cheek.
"so let me help you relax," he murmurs into your skin, his hands at your waist slipping further down to paw at the back of your skirt. he takes a little step back towards the couch, drawing you along with him like a dance. in no time at all he reaches the arm of the sofa, and he topples back, splayed against the couch cushions where you're sure he spent most of his day. he peers up at you, smiling wolfishly. "i've got the perfect seat waiting for you."
you sigh, but the sound is as fond as it is exasperated.
"let me at least take my tights off," you mutter. "you've ripped enough that i'm down to my last two good pairs."
he pushes himself up onto his elbows, his eyes alight with excitement. "be my guest."
you shoot him a wry look, shimmying your skirt up over your hips so you can slip your thumbs into the waistband of your nylons. makki's attention is rapt as you tug the tight, clinging material down your thighs—watching every inch of their painfully slow descent. once you've kicked them off in a heap on the living room floor, your hands move towards the zipper of your skirt.
"no, no,"—he stop you before you can begin to remove the garment—"leave that on."
you look at him with a brow drawn up in question. "why?"
he gnaws on his lip, his eyes flickering back down to the glimpse of soft, lace-trimmed cotton he can see peeking out from under the bunched up hem of your skirt.
"you look so hot in business clothes," he tells you, groaning brokenly as he squeezes his eyes shut in pleasure. "like a sexy teacher."
"you're a pervert," you remark, but you don't protest as he stretches forward and tugs you towards the sofa by the hem of your skirt.
"oh, definitely," he agrees cheerfully.
you shuffle forward on the sofa until you're straddling his face, and his hands find yours again—interlocking your fingers as you hover over him on your knees.
"hi," he remarks, a boyishly charming grin on his face as he peers up at you from between your parted thighs.
"hi," you quietly return the greeting with a light laugh, and he squeezes your fingers with his own. your legs are starting to burn from holding yourself up over him, but because of the way he's holding your hands you can't press them down into the sofa to support you.
your only option is to sit, or to suffer.
takahiro lets his head loll to the side, pressing a kiss to the soft skin of your inner thigh. he nips at you playfully afterwards, and when you hiss slightly in surprise, his tongue darts out and slides against the sting to soothe it.
"you didn't even ask me how my day was before you manhandled me over here, you know," you remark, but there's not nearly enough complaint in your tone for it to be sincere.
hiro hums, a placating, easy sound, and presses another kiss to your thigh. "sorry, baby. how was your day?"
"it was good," you say, your hips dipping ever so minutely closer to his waiting mouth. "how was yours?"
"it was okay,—" hiro answers, but his words are mostly breath.
you watch your boyfriend swallow thickly, like there's suddenly saliva pooling in his mouth. his eyes are fixed to the little damp spot you feel inking across the cotton of your panties, but they flicker back up to yours—hungrier now than they were a moment prior—before he speaks again.
"—but it's about to get way better."
Hi Liv I have been having the poopiest week ever, I got covid and the world is going to shit, my coworkers are being stupid. If you are feeling up to it, may I have a sweet headcannon about anyone of your choosing? I appreciate you.
Violet, I'm sooo sorry to hear that :( i'm sending u sm love and I hope you get well soon!! I feel like you are a fellow makki fucker (apologies if not!) so here's my humble offering to u in these trying times <3
hoarse hanamaki takahiro/f!reader (haikyuu!) tags: established relationship, reader is sick and makki takes it upon himself to help
Makki was constantly sick as a kid.
You know those children who seem to always have an ear infection? Yeah, that was him. (Which he was actually perfectly fine with, because he loved the taste of the banana flavoured amoxicillin he'd be prescribed and liked getting to miss school.)
His immune system seemed to get itself together by high school, timed with his growth spurt and all the other various hormonal atrocities of puberty, and as an adult he rarely--if ever--falls ill.
"Hiro," you groan, weakly trying to force your apartment door closed though his foot is in the way. "I told you I'm sick."
Hanamaki merely grins at you through the crack in the doorway. "Don't worry, I've got the immune system of a horse!"
You cock your head to the side.
"Are horses even known for having good immune systems?"
Makki forces the door open another inch, and you don't have the strength to stop him. Before you know it he's weaselled his way right through the door, and is shutting it tightly behind him while he kicks off his shoes.
"Yeah, you know that expression 'healthy as a horse'?"
You pinch the bridge of your congested nose. "Hiro, that's just an idiom, I don't think it has any--woah!"
You stumble back slightly as a weight presses against your forehead, which a second later you realize is Hiro's hand while he checks your temperature.
"You're burning up," he says with a little frown, "it's a good thing I got here when I did."
He shuffles off towards your kitchen, the plastic shopping bags in his hands rustling as he goes.
"Hiro, I told you not to come over. I'm just going to make you sick too." You sigh, trailing after him lethargically. Your whole body is aching and heavy, and just pulling yourself out of bed to answer the unexpected knock at your door had taken any remaining energy you had left in you away.
"I haven't gotten sick in four years,"--your boyfriend holds up four fingers demonstrably--"and even then I'm pretty sure that was just food poisoning from Oikawa's awful cooking."
You might have laughed if you had it in you.
Makki begins unpacking the plastic bags onto your kitchen counter, producing a wealth of unexpectedly helpful resources from within. Sports drink, fever patches, medicine, and what seems to be the makings of some sort of soup or porridge soon crowd the limited counter space in your apartment kitchen.
"What's all this?" you ask him weakly.
"I may not get sick often, but I happen to be a kind of great nurse," Takahiro says proudly, his chest puffing up underneath his oversized hoodie. "I'm gonna take care of you!"
Maybe it's because you're sick, maybe it's because in spite of the fact that even though you've spent the better part of the past 24-hours unconscious you're exhausted, maybe it's because you just like him so much.
But in the wake of your boyfriend's words, you let out a snotty, pitiful sob.
"Hey, hey." Makki quickly rounds the counter, pulling you into his arms. "What's wrong?"
"I'm sorry," you whimper, your face tucked into his chest as your tears (and snot) sink into the fabric. "I'm just all sick and tired and gross--"
"You are not gross," Hiro says, borderline offended. "I actually kind of have a huge crush on you, dunno if I've ever told you that."
"I'm gross right now," you argue weakly, peeling yourself away from his hold to look up at him. "And this is just so... nice."
"I'm your boyfriend," Hiro replies with his brows raised. He uses the edge of his sleeve to wipe at the tears on your face. "That's what I'm here for."
You let your body slump against his once more, and Hiro carefully navigates the two of you towards the sofa. He tucks you in, places a fever patch on your forehead, and picks out something for you to watch (though you doubt you'll stay awake long enough to absorb any of it.)
Once you've been situated, Hiro skitters back to your kitchen to keep unpacking his various supplies, reappearing a while later with a glass of water and some medicine. He places the tablets on your tongue and lifts the cup of cool water to your mouth so you can wash them down, checking the patch on your forehead to make sure it was still cold even though he'd only just applied it.
"Are you sleepy?" he asks, crouching down beside where you're nestled into your couch, running his fingers against your cheek.
You nod a little.
"Get some rest, Doctor Horse will still be here when you wake up," he says, smiling at you softly.
"Thought you were a nurse?" you murmur gently, turning your cheek to nose against his palm.
He laughs. "Guess I got promoted."
When you wake a few hours later, the afternoon sunlight is gone, but you feel marginally less close to death than you had before you'd fallen asleep. It's relatively dim in your living room, the light from the TV that was still playing whatever show Hiro had picked out for you painting the room in a vaguely blue hue as characters you don't recognize move across the screen.
Hiro.
The light in your bedroom is on and you hear the sound of his voice from the other side of the door. You pick yourself up off the sofa, shaking off the stiffness in your limbs and peeling the material of your t-shirt away from your clammy skin, before shuffling towards the sound.
"--and when she wakes up, should I give her more medicine?... Yeah about five hours ago... Two tablets, I think? Hold on let me check-- yeah two...Okay...Uh huh--"
You rest your temple against the doorframe, peering through the crack left between the slightly ajar door. Hiro is perched on your freshly made bed--clean sheets and all--with his back to you, holding his phone to his ear as he scribbles away in a little notebook.
"--Should I give her the soup as soon as she wakes up? No?... Okay what about the Potari Sweat? Okay... Yeah I got the one you told me to... Okay... Yeah, thanks mom... Okay, I will... Love you too... Yep, okay... Mom, I really gotta go!"
Your heart feels like there's not enough room for it in your aching chest.
You creep back over to the sofa soundlessly, letting Hiro conclude his phone call with his mother while you nestle yourself back into your cocoon of blankets as if you never left.
He shuffles out of your bedroom a few minutes later.
"Hey," he says, noticing that your eyes are open. "Welcome back, patient zero. Thought I lost you there."
You push yourself up as he approaches, perching himself on the edge of the sofa. He touches the cold pack on your forehead and notices it's gone mostly warm, and he carefully peels it off of your skin.
"Want something cold to drink?" he asks.
"Yes, please," you rasp out with a nod.
Hiro returns to your side with a bottle of sports drink he'd retrieved from your fridge, and another dose of medicine for you. He cracks off the lid of the drink as you pop the two tablets into your mouth, handing you the beverage to help swallow them down.
"Think you've got it in you to eat anything?" he asks as you take a second swig of the cool drink. You shake your head no. "I figured, but I made you some soup whenever you feel up to it."
"What time is it?" you ask him, looking around for your phone though you can't for the life of you remember where you put it.
"A little after 10, you were out for almost six hours," he explains, pulling your phone out of his hoodie pocket and handing it to you as though sensing what you were looking for without you needing to say it. The time on the screen verifies his claims.
"How am I still so tired?" you groan miserably, letting yourself flop back against your throw pillows.
"You're sick. That just means your body is healing, fighting off the germs and all that," Makki says, reaching out and brushing some hair back from your face. "You look a lot better than you did this afternoon."
"I still feel like shit," you mutter.
He laughs.
"How about we get you into bed then? I changed your sheets for you," he says, standing from his place on the edge of the couch cushion. He helps you up to your feet and in the direction of your bedroom.
Soon enough you're tucked under the crisp, clean cotton of fresh bedsheets, a new cold pack stuck to your forehead, and two cold beverages and a variety of medicines lining your bedside table.
"You comfy?" Makki asks after he's finished tucking you in for the second time today.
You nod.
He moves to step away towards the door.
"Where are you going?" you ask in a panic, sitting up so quickly it makes everything skew sideways in your vision for a moment, your hand rushing up to cradle your aching head.
"Hey." Makki steps up to the bed and gently eases you back against your pillows, tucking your blankets in around you once more. "I'm just going to clean up a bit. I'm not going anywhere," he assures you, but he seems to be fighting back a laugh. "You're awfully clingy for someone who was trying to slam a door in my face six hours ago."
You blink at him blearily, wishing you had the energy to muster a narrow-eyed glare.
"Yeah well, turns out you're not such a bad nurse after all," you murmur, nestling down into your pillow. "And a really good boyfriend."
Makki beams proudly, though to his credit he does try to hide it at least a little bit.
"Yeah?" he asks, patting a hand gingerly over your hair. "Would you mind saying that around the guys some time? They all think you're way outta my league."
"'s 'cause I am," you mumble sleepily.
Hiro laughs, breathy and fond, watching as your tired eyes flutter closed.
"Yeah," he says with a nod, tugging at the strings of his hoodie idly, "you are."
The next morning when you wake up, you're shocked to find that the pounding that had taken residence between your temples in the days prior has dulled to little more than an annoying ache. You sit up in your bed, eyes instinctively flickering over to where Makki had been sleeping soundly only a little while prior.
He'd crawled into bed with you at some point during the night, because when you'd woken up at 2am to take some more medicine his arms had been wrapped around your midsection like a vice.
His side of the bed is still warm, but the boy in question was nowhere to be found.
You roll out of bed, fishing a clean change of clothes from your drawers (though what you know you need more than anything is a nice long shower) and shuffle out to your living room.
Hiro is found perched on your sofa, and when he sees you enter the room he quickly shoves his hand under the throw pillow beside him.
"Morning, gorgeous," he says with a smile, his voice still thick with sleep and hair tousled.
"Ha ha," you rasp, knowing that at the present moment you're as far from gorgeous as anyone has ever been. You crawl into his lap on the sofa, and he presses a kiss to the top of your head.
"You feeling better?" he asks, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. He must be pleasantly surprised because he nods a little as he pulls his hand away.
"Much," you say with a yawn, stretching out across his lap like an overgrown house cat. He laughs, kneading his hand into the tops of your thighs just below the curve of your ass.
"Glad to hear it," he says, smiling down at you. Your eyes flicker to the throw pillow beside him, and a second too late he realizes what you're up to.
"No--!"
Your hand darts out under the pillow, wrapping around something solid and pulling it out from beneath.
You blink down at what you've found.
A thermometer.
That reads 38.1 degrees.
"Hiro..." You peer up at your boyfriend, who looks away guiltily. "You have a fever."
He grimaces a little, peeking at you sheepishly from the corner of his eye. He shrugs a bit.
"Uh, so I guess horses aren't that healthy after all?"
They look so cute!! ❤
thinking v hard abt matsuhana the past few days ;____________;;///
they WOULD do that honestly
Hanamaki, at Matsukawa's funeral: Can I have a moment alone with him?
Pastor: Of course.
Pastor: [leaves]
Hanamaki, leaning over Matsukawa's coffin: Listen, I know you're not dead.
Matsukawa, sitting up: Yeah, no shit-
Oh my god, I love this!! This is completely canon 😔🤍
Happy haikyuu day!! 8.19 🏐❣️❣️
I have this headcanon wherein Iwa keeps a small team argentina keychain (Oikawa's jersey) with his car and house keys because he's unable to publicly wear/use other team's merch. His friends tease him about it all the time 😂💙💙
I mean, he's not wrong 😗
‘Just 3 am thoughts’
This post here got somewhat popular and people started reposting it EVERYWHERE as a meme template (yeah) in horrible quality, I got like 16 or 17 messages from people where they shared links on ig, fb and reddit where it has been reposted, so yeah kids put giant watermarks on your art and be ready to file a lot of complaints.
1 2
Their single presence makes my life better 😌
i miss seeing them in the new episodes 😔
seijoh come home pls…
keep quiet. -seijoh 4
warnings: 18+ MDNI, poly, implied masturbation, implied sex(? I think), idk how to tag so lmk if there's anything else
contains: fem reader, seijoh 4 x reader (but mostly Matsukawa x reader and Hanamaki x reader)
wc: 1.2 k
a/n: I feel like there's not enough seijoh 4 fics out there so I decided to write one myself lol. This is my first fic so if anyone likes this I'll finish this and try to post more. Just ask and I'll lyk if I can do it!
Living in an apartment with four other boys never left your days feeling dull. Although you were all in your 20’s and supposedly more mature than your younger selves, they were still boys.
They would each find ways to somehow piss you off, whether consciously or not. Dirty laundry in the living room, a bag of chips left open on the counter, or the loud moans of a random girl spilling through the crack in their bedroom door. These things wouldn’t typically leave you feeling so annoyed, but hearing a repeating “Yes Oikawa!” at 3 AM– the night before your abnormal psychology midterm may I add– was seriously starting to test your patience.
Before you knew it, you found your feet gliding stomping down the hallway towards the brunette’s room, unknowingly drawing the other three to peek out from their own doors.
“I SWEAR TO GOD TOORU. IF SHE DOESN’T SHUT UP YOU WILL NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY AGAIN.” You emphasized your threat by loudly pounding your fist on his door, then swiftly retreating back to your room, slamming your door for good measure. You put your earbuds back in and tried to focus on the music that filled your ears.
Thankfully, you eventually drifted to sleep, but the groggy feeling you had the next morning did not dissipate, even with the large coffee you had made. After fumbling with your keys for what seemed like forever, you were met with the faces of your roommates, all waiting to greet you. They each gave you a warm smile, which normally would brighten your mood a bit, but the sight of Tooru’s face made a frown appear on your face. Without a word, you disappeared into your room and threw yourself onto the bed, hoping to catch up on some sleep.
“What did I do?” Hajime immediately slapped the back of Tooru’s head in response. “You idiot! She had an exam today and you haven’t even apologized for keeping her up!” Hajime clicked his tongue in annoyance at his best friend. Tooru rubbed the back of his head to soothe the pain. “Well how do I make her forgive me? I didn’t know she had an exam!”
Hajime merely shook his head, “Figure it out.” he said before going to check on you. As he opened your door, he found you– jeans and all – laying face-down on your bed. A groan of acknowledgement came from your figure, causing Hajime to let out a breathy laugh. “You okay?”
“Headache.” Was all you managed to say before beckoning him to lay with you. He obliged, letting you roll over before laying on top of your half-made bed with you. He adjusted you both so your head would be comfortably caged in his arms, while you curled into his warmth.
“It’s alright, just get some sleep. I’ll stay with you, baby.” There it was. That nickname he gave you. It always put a smile on your face, this time no different, as you drifted off with your lips sleepily curled up at the corners.
While, yes, they were annoying at times, one could argue that they had a soft spot for you. They would often lay with you if they knew you wanted the company, just as Hajime was doing. When a boy would break your heart, you would find one of them waiting outside of your lecture hall with a bouquet of daffodils, ready to take you out to eat or to a club. With them, you never needed to watch cringey rom-coms while incessantly crying. They distracted you from the heartache, until it eventually melted away. And those nicknames, god, those nicknames. You were sure that they meant nothing, but the way that they locked eyes with you as they uttered ‘Princess’ or ‘Darling’ made your heart stop in ways that felt more than platonic. Sometimes, when you touched yourself in the dead of the night, you found yourself imagining them saying it, driving you to your climax. But you would never admit that to any of them. Just as they wouldn’t admit that you would sometimes let your moans get loud enough for them to hear, driving them to let their hands wander down beyond the waistbands of their boxers. They quickly chased their high, knowing that without the sweet noises of your pleasure seeping through the thin walls, they would be left unsatiated.
You awoke to the delicious smell of food wafting in from the kitchen. After stretching a bit, you opened your eyes to find Hajime no longer next to you. You followed the smell into the main area of your apartment, finding the boys sitting at the kitchen counter chatting while Tooru stood with a pink apron on.
Your small laugh caused them all to turn their heads to wear you stood, a smile appearing on each of their faces. You walked up to them and put your hands on the counter, surveying the mess left on top of it.
“I made you your favorite! And before you say anything, I was just about to clean up.” That drew another giggle to fall from your lips. You mumbled out a ‘You better.” as Tooru wrapped his arms around your form. “I’m sorry for keeping you up last night, please forgive me?”
“ Fine, just buy a gag for the next time you wanna bring one of them home.” The four laughed while you began to set the table.
After dinner, Tooru told you to put on a movie while the rest of them did the dishes and grabbed something sweet to snack on. You opted to take a quick shower before doing so and changed into a comfortable tank top and shorts. As you plopped down on the couch and simply chose to re-watch The Hunger Games, Hiro and Issei sat down on either side of you. Issei guided you between his legs, allowing your head to lay on his chest, as Hiro moved your legs into his lap. Hiro draped a blanket over your form, as you gave him a small smile of thankfulness. Soon after, Hajime and Tooru sat in the smaller armchairs and started the movie.
You’ve seen this movie a million times, after all it was your favorite. But as you watched Katniss tie herself to a tree in an attempt to get some sleep, you began to grow bored. You shifted from your position, fidgeting in hopes of becoming comfortable again. “Sit still, pretty girl. I wanna know what happens next.” You heard Issei whisper into your ear. You freeze. For some reason, the mixture of the hot breath that you felt on your neck and the raspiness of his voice made your stomach form a knot. But it wasn’t until you felt Hiro’s hand start to slowly travel up the length of your leg that you finally realized what you were feeling. You felt hot, making you squirm even more. Issei’s arm snaked around your middle, holding you in place. “I said sit still. We’ll give you a reward if you’re good.” Suddenly it felt like your senses were heightened. The feeling of Issei’s arm and Hiro’s wandering hands made your breathing come to a halt. Is this a dream?
“Do you trust us, pretty girl?”
I suddenly realized that I had never tried to draw Hanamaki, so I thought I’d give him a try. Oddly, a lot easier to draw then my fifth try drawing Suga (who will not be posted until he looks half decent darn it!!)