This Is Some Gourmet Shit - Tumblr Posts

haikyuu boys + nonsexual turn ons

im about to go insane

ushijima -> putting his hand on the small of your back. his hand is so big. so warm. it’s barely even there. it’s not touching, it’s hovering, and that’s the most infuriating part. whenever the street is crowded, or whenever he feels he needs to guide you, he places it there.

atsumu -> twirling a lollipop in his mouth. he has a droopy look in his eyes when he does it too. he’s sitting with his elbows on his knees, watching people pass by, twirling a lollipop in his mouth.

suna -> reversing the car with with his hand on the headrest of your seat. he smells good too. if that’s not enough, he drums his fingers there while his neck muscles strain to look at the back. his sentences turn to muttered phrases while he’s concentrating.

bokuto -> plays footsie with you under the table. he can’t sit still. he sandwiches your foot by putting both of his on either side. playful nudges here and there.

kuroo -> licks his thumb when he turns a page of his book.

oikawa -> puts his arm across the back of your chair when you’re sitting beside each other. he likes leaning in to whisper things into your ear too. and when he laughs he looks down to do it.

matsukawa -> the plain white shirt. bark. it just looks good on his shoudlers. so crisp. it shows how well he’s cut.

iwaizumi -> massages the back of his neck. he’s flexing so many things at once. his neck. his back. his biceps. his shoulders.

terushima -> ties his hair. puts the rubberband between his lips. puts it into a little rice tie on the top of his head. his hands look so fluid when he does it.

sakusa -> scratches his bottom lip with his index finger. that one.

osamu -> towel slung across the shoulder. especially when he cooks. he slams it there and leaves it while he goes to work. looks so good on him.

Oh, god. 18, 19, 26, 37. Dark asf. Character? Hmm. Ignis. Go wild.

Some dark as fuck yandere Iggy coming right up. I am always amazed at how quickly dark Iggy comes back to me.

18: “Cry for me, baby.” 19: “I know it hurts, honey, but that’s what happens when you don’t do what I say.”

“Cry for me Kitten,” he purrs, voice absolute silk by your ear. “That’s it, get it all out.” The leather of his glove creaks and shifts as he brushes the tears from your cheeks with a soft touch. “I know it hurts, I know,” he coos, “but,” his voice turns suddenly bitter and sharp. He drags his hand down your back. You scream as he digs his tear stained fingers into the fresh welts that cross thickly across your skin. “Shush,” he snaps, “there is no one to blame but yourself.” He releases you from your binds, throwing you roughly onto the bed, thankfully you land on your front. You barely hear the jingle of metal, it sounds so far away, but then his hands are in your hair. He pulls you up, bowing out your back, opening up your wounds as you cry and whimper. “You knew this would happen if you didn’t listen to me,” he taunts, using his other hand to line his cock up with your entrance. He snaps his hips and pushes roughly inside, “this is all your fault.”

26: “I’ll lock you up and throw away the fucking key if you ever even think about doing anything like that again, do you hear me?”

Ignis is absolutely livid as he drags you to the bathroom. He throws you into a stall, backing you up against the wall. He towers over you, his hands gripping bruisingly tight against your arms. He  glares down at you, his eyes are so dark, so terrifying, there’s no kindness left in those emerald depths. It just causes you to shrink back further into the wall. 

“I just tried to get him to move out of the way,” you plead, your voice so damn pathetic. 

His expression doesn’t even falter. “By touching him. By fawning all over him like the filthy whore that you are.”

“I touched his arm for a second.”

He tightens his grip on your arm until you cry out. “You are mine,” he growls through gritted teeth, barely able to restrain his anger. “I am so good to you,” he says, “and this is how you choose to repay me.”

“I’m sorry.”

He hums, pretending to ponder your words. He leans down, yanking at your shoulder to pull you up as you try to shrink down even further. He places his lips by your ear, and his voice is low and steady, unwavering, the intent in it terrifying. “I’ll lock you up and throw away the fucking key if you ever even think of doing anything like that again. Understand?”

All you can do is nod. 

“If you don’t kiss me, I’ll slit your fucking throat.”

“Now let’s try that again Sweetheart,” he murmurs, yanking on your hair and forcing you to face him. It cricks your neck, forces you to strain against the tight bonds that hold you hostage. His face is so close to yours, you can feel the heat of his breath, taste the sickly sweet scent of it. “I’m going to kiss you now, and well if you don’t let me. Then I’ll just slit your damn throat.”