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iruinn · 11 months

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every breath of yours is a prayer to my temple ❀ iwaizumi hajime x reader

summary :

Iwaizumi has no soulmarks. He is fine with this. Iwaizumi is also a liar.

cw : smut (mild degradation, unprotected sex)

general tags/notes : OOCness, oikawa/female OC(not reader!), some one-sided pining on iwaizumi's part, as always unbeta read.

read on ao3 here

wc : 6656

MINORS DNI! ty

There are a few unshakeable facts Iwaizumi has always known, as steady as the sun rising in the east.

His mom and dad are extremely, almost disgustingly in love. Their matching timers (both reading 00:00:00, the countdown having finished far before Hajime was barely a twinkle in his parents' eyes) displayed proudly,

Oikawa Tooru is his best friend. Despite the soulmark on his upper back (A black crown, standing out against his pale skin), Oikawa has always insisted on Hajime being first in his life. From when they were young, knobbly knees bumping into each other on bus rides back home to now, as he feels of the volleyball reaching his palm perfectly as he smashes it to the other side of the court, its always been Tooru and Hajime.

Iwaizumi doesn't have a soulmate.

"I mean," Matsukawa mutters. "Maybe it's just not the type of soulmark that manifests until you meet your soulmate? I've heard of soulmarks like those, rare as they are."

Iwaizumi doesn't know about that. Wouldn't he have felt the presence of a soulmate? Don't people always talk about how they feel a piece of themselves missing until they meet their other half?

"Hey, maybe that feeling is just due to the expectation of knowing your soulmate is somewhere out there, you know? Like, you don't actually feel anything but you think you do because you're so conditioned to missing a part of yourself." Hanamaki throws out his hands, spreading them like he had just impressed the wisdom of the ages upon them. Iwaizumi snorts, shaking his head.

"Dude, I think you're delusional."

The comment earns him a punch to the shoulder, but he just shakes it off, dodging Hanamaki's fists. It didn't matter, anyway. He didn't really need a soulmate. He had his team, and he had volleyball. Things were fine as they were, and Iwaizumi would be happy if they continued like this, always. The setting sun behind their backs, as he slung his arms around Oikawa's shoulders, grabbing him in a headlock and ruffling up his disgustingly perfect hair, the laughter of his friends in the spring air.

He should have known it was too good to last.

The beginning of the end started with her, he thinks.

A new manager, after their last one had graduated. She slotted into their life, neatly and without pause, like a missing puzzle piece that they didn't realize was missing until it was before them.

She immediately incited a feeling of overprotectiveness in the team. She laughed along to Hanamaki's and Mattsun's jokes, listened patiently to the excitable first years, and was immediately there to calm him down when he got too angry at Oikawa's flippishness, and recognized when Oikawa was overworking himself and put her foot down to stop him. (Even if it didn't work. Not much could stop Oikawa when he was determined.)

His breath caught in his throat, as his team members had thrown sideway glances at him, knowing he was in the same situation. She notices their attention, and looks at him questioningly too.

And yet, for all her cheerfulness, there were moments where she was overcome by a weird melancholy. Times when she glimpsed the soulmark on Oikawa's back, when his shirt rode up too high, when she noticed Yahaba's nose sometimes bleeding on its own (of all the soulmarks, a shared pain one was definitely an absolute pain in the ass), when she noticed the easy energy between Hanamaki and Matsukawa-

The entire team had noticed, especially Oikawa, who was always doted a lot more on her during those moments. His coy yells of "Manager-chan~" almost always succeeded those moments, as he would proceed to badger her and distract her.

It's an overnight training camp, over barbeque where she opens up, her voice carrying among the silence underneath the stars.

"I don't have a soulmate. Never will, I think."

"Ah, that's okay. I don't have one either. But I've never really felt the need for one anyway." He coughs, his ears turning red at the scrutiny. She observes him quietly and quirks an eyebrow.

"We're in the same boat, Iwaizumi-kun! We have to stick together then!"

He raises his skewer to her in a mimicry of a toast, relishing the sound of her laughter.

Hajime wonders if he's allowed to feel more for her. Was it worth mangling their dynamic so he could reach out and push one of her flowing strands of hair behind her ear? To reach down and take her lips, cupping the back of her neck in his palm? Was he made for her, their unmarked bodies in harmony with each other?

That day results in a change. Oikawa and Iwaizumi become Oikawa, Iwaizumi and her. She joins them on their walks home now, linking her arms with theirs, as she laughs at him and Oikawa ribbing each other. Their movie nights now have her sprawled across Oikawa's lap, her legs in his as they relentlessly mocked bad horror movies together, throwing popcorn at each other. She watches, water bottles and towels at ready as they relentlessly practice serves and spikes.

The best things come in threes, don't they?

This friendship of his, their trio, was so precious to him, and he wanted it to remain unbroken. He would push down his feelings for her if he had to protect it.

Their third and final year of high school arrives with a rush, and with it a sense of finality. The last year of volleyball he'd enjoy with his team, and their final chance to enter the Nationals. The insurmountable wall that was Shiratorizawa loomed over them as always, but this year would be different. It had to be.

Karasuno was a surprise. Seeing the grumpy kid that used to lurk around Oikawa now become a monstrous setter an extremely unpleasant one, watching Oikawa's anger at the prodigy gutting. But this was just another opponent to crush on their way to the nationals, and he ensured that his spikes were at their fiercest. Karasuno is vanquished, but he knows that the team is stumbling and will be scary once they find their wings. He thinks Oikawa has realized it too.

The tiny middle blocker from Karasuno makes him feel...weird. A yearning he didn't think was possible to feel. He's mildly insulted that its the annoying chibi of all people that brings it out of him.

Matsukawa laughs and laughs. "Hey, maybe he's your soulmate?"

Oikawa's head whips around, and walks up he grips Iwaizumi's head between his hands. "If your soulmate is Tobio's minion, I will never forgive you, Iwa-chan!" Iwaizumi sputters, headbutting him. "Shittykawa, you'd think it'd be a bit more obvious if he was!"

Iwaizumi wonders when he became Tooru-kun to her.

Their manager watches them both wrestle, a smile on her face. "Tooru-kun and me will support you no matter what, you know that right?"

"Ah, Iwa-chan...we're together now."

The world ends on a Thursday.

Iwaizumi knew he should have stayed in bed today. Her nervous stride as she slinks up to him forms a strange pit in his stomach. The pink spots of color high up on her cheekbones, her face fighting off a smile. The way Oikawa walks alongside her, her arms linked to his. The way he feels like an intruder now, a voyeur to moments he shouldn't be witnessing.

He knows what Oikawa is about to say even before he opens his mouth.

He wonders how he didn't see it before. She covers her face with her hands, blushing furiously, but Oikawa continues looking at him, waiting for something.

Iwaizumi smiles, punches his best friend in the shoulder lightly. It's okay. Maybe things could still be the same. He turns to her and snorts. "You sure you want to put up with this dumbass?"

They laugh together, the tension dissipating. He walks with them, but the distance between them has widened. A bitter part of Iwaizumi wonders why Oikawa had to go for her when he had his own soulmate, but he knows that is a selfish thought. He wonders how much of his feelings was solely because they both happened to lack soulmates.

Oikawa whines, a relieved look crossing his face, so quickly that Iwaizumi wonders if he imagined it. "Iwa-chan, you're so mean! You're still number 1 in my heart, you know?"

"Shittykawa, have you taken one too many volleyballs to the face or something?"

It would be nice, he thinks. To have someone to call his own. He watches his best friends as they shyly steal glances at each other, faces red, and despite that bitterness he hopes they're happy together. And maybe if she met someone despite not having a soulmate, he could too.

Iwaizumi curses as he strides down the corridor, knowing he's late. Oikawa had slunk away somewhere, and the next match was theirs, but their coach sends him away to track down their captain. The spring tournament is their last chance at Nationals, and he is extremely high strung already.

Where had he seen that before? It comes to him in a rush, and he realizes she's a Karasuno student.

He's too lost in his thoughts to notice the whirlwind barreling down his path, their collision imminent. He notices the girl a second too late, and he struggles to halt his stride, but she crashes into him, sending them both to the floor.

"Shit,can't you see where you're going??" He yells, and the lump on top of him groans, slowly lifting its head from his chest. He notices her uniform first, the familiarity striking.

The second thing he notices is her forehead and part of her cheek glowing different colours, iridescent. She looks down at him from her position and yelps, her expression going from annoyance to shock as she stares at his face. He feels his heart beating faster, his eyes refusing to leave those glowing marks, watching as they slowly fade away.

He straightens, grabbing her raised hand, and the places where their skin touches flares to life with color.

She's the most beautiful person he's ever seen, he realizes.

He sits up, and she flushes red, realizing she's on his lap. She still doesn't move, and raises her hand slowly. He watches, frozen, as she pokes his cheek, almost in a trance. She pulls her finger away, and he notices it's glowing, orange and red. She looks at her finger and at his cheek, and he feels the place she poked him blaze with warmth. He thinks it could burn a hole in him.

There are a few unshakeable facts Iwaizumi thought he'd always known. They might not have been as immovable as he thought they were.

Oikawa Tooru is his best friend. It's not just Tooru and Hajime anymore, but maybe that's okay.

Iwaizumi doesn't have might have desperately hopes he's not mistaken has a soulmate.

You have a soulmate.

At least, you think you do. You throw the volleyball to your cousin, watching him stumble to receive it.

"What makes you so sure you do, (name)?" Hinata asks, curious. He tosses the ball back to you and you catch it cleanly, spinning it on a finger. You think it's a fair question. After all, you don't have a soulmark, unlike Hinata.

"It's just a feeling, you know?" You shrug. "Like I just know there's someone out there for me." You drop the ball, flopping onto the grass under you, and your cousin bounds up to you, throwing his arms around your neck. You pat his fluffy orange hair, feeling a rush of affection. "Of course, it's just a feeling. I'm not as lucky as you, to have such a pretty soul mark."

Hinata scrambles away from you, lifting his shirt and grimacing. The golden fox is bright, and you wonder what kind of person it belongs to. They must certainly be somewhat flashy, and you're very curious to see how they'd fit your cousin.

You giggle, getting up and brushing the grass off your shorts, pulling Hinata up with you. "Come on nerd, let's go get some more practice in before Auntie calls us for dinner."

"Blech! I don't care about soulmates anyway! I just want to play some volleyball! I'm gonna play before I graduate middle school, I swear!"

You believe him. There's very little your cousin can't do when he puts his mind to it. You shoot him a thumbs up and he grins at you. "For what its worth, I think you have a soulmate too! They have to be a really cool person, though, or I'm fighting them off!"

He cheers, and you follow him, your spirits high.

You've lived with your aunt and cousins for as long as you've remembered. Your parents had died when you were really young, and your mother's sister had taken you in. You got along with your cousins like a house on fire, immediately charmed by Hinata and Natsu. Despite the two year difference between you and Hinata, you both were really close, and you went along with most of his whims, encouraging his interest in volleyball and practicing with him outside your house , throwing the ball at him for hours on end, while Natsu cheered you both on.

You were happy when he decided to join the same school you were in, even though you'd both only get to share one year together, since you're already in your last year of high school. You both cycle to school together on the first day, and you listen to him chatter away about joining the volleyball club. You remember that the volleyball club at your school didn't have a lot of success, but you hope your cousin has a good time regardless.

The next day, you laugh high and loud when Daichi grabs you and shakes you, calling your cousin a menace. You know he'd grow on Daichi eventually. The competition the captain had set certainly explained the fervor with which Hinata had practiced back home.

Reaching school, you see the captain of the team is in your class, Daichi. You're pretty friendly with him and you stride up to him, leaning on his back. He yelps in surprise, then grins back at you when he notices you. "(name), hey! We're in the same class again!"

You smirk, bumping fists with him. "I can't believe we're in our last year of high school already! It feels like yesterday, stumbling into class in out first year..."

He sighs. "Yeah, it's our last shot at making something of the volleyball team too."

"Speaking off..." You trail off, and he looks at you, curious. "My baby brother is in his first year of high school and he might be, no scratch that, he's definitely applying to the team. Be nice to him, okay?"

He raises an eyebrow. "I make no promises. Is he any good at playing?"

You shrug. "He's short and spunky, real fast. I think he can do anything he puts his mind to, he's just a bit....over excitable."

You're not surprised when he becomes a full fledged member of the team.

You try to keep up with your cousin's matches, but your own classes and your determination to get into a good college had you busy for most of the days. You did always make time for when he talked about his matches against the other schools and his own rival/teammate, Kageyama.

You notice immediately when he comes home one day from a match, quiet. You tilt your head at him questioningly, and he plops down next to you on the ground, sprawling over you.

"Get off, you lump!" You giggle, pushing him aside, and he whines. "We won today, a practise match against a team. Aobajohsai."

You fistbump him, but he's clearly out of it, returning it with much less enthusiasm than he normally would. "You're..not as excited as I thought you would be about that."

He sits up, shaking his head. "I am! But their captain didn't join until the very last set, and he was scary."

"Want me to come to your next match against them and beat him up?" You grin, flashing your muscles (they're very pitiful muscles, unfortunately), and he snorts. "Nah, we'll just win against them again next time! I'm gonna be the best decoy ever!"

You mildly worry over what Daichi was making your brother do. A decoy? At least he still looked extremely excited about it. You think he wants to tell you about something else, but he shakes the thought away, and you decide to let him be.

The following weeks bring with it the interhigh, and you hear the volleyball team has been doing pretty well, winning their first two matches. You wave at the team one morning when they're heading out, looking extremely nervous, and you giggle at the second years that immediately pounce on Hinata, asking him how they knew you. You wish them luck, before heading into your school. You're sure they'll bring about another victory.

It's a surprise when Hinata comes home late at night, his eyes red and face rubbed. You bite your lip, realising what happened and watch him absent mindedly fool around with the ball.

"Want to talk about it?

He sniffs, rubbing his eyes. "We lost. To the grand king." You tsk. You're not sure who the grand king is, though.

"Was it close?" He nods, and you put an arm around his shoulder, bringing him into a hug. "You'll get them next time. There isn't much that can keep you down, and your team looks crazy enough to be the same." You think he knows this already, but you're a supportive big sister and you'll give him all the reassurance and praise he deserves.

He perks up, like he's remembering something. "Oh yeah, (name)! There's a spiker on Aobajohsai who makes me feel weird? His spikes are so cool, they're like BWAAH but he feels very familiar to me somehow..."

You were halfway to the kitchen, ready to pull out a knife when he said this spiker felt weird, but that explanation was even more bewildering. "Maybe he's your soulmate?" You wonder out loud, and he shakes his head resolutely. "He isn't, I'm sure. Besides, he doesn't really feel like a fox...."

You point out that his actual soulmate might not feel like one too, but it falls on deaf ears. The conversation is derailed with the both of you discussing whether Hinata's soulmark meant that his soulmate would be a foxy person, and you poke and tease at his red cheeks.

You shake your pom poms at Daichi and Kiyoko, questioningly. "You know, I came here to support my brother, not to become a de facto cheerleader for your baby nerds."

You had a free day from classes, and decided to accompany the volleyball team to their Spring high. You were already beginning to regret the decision when Kiyoko and the other tiny manager had procured a couple of pom-poms mysteriously from nowhere, pressing them onto you.

Daichi gives you a thumbs up, enthusiastically. "(name), supporting our team as a cheer leader IS supporting Hinata. We're all a team!"

You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously, glancing at Kiyoko, but she just shrugs at you. "Whatever gets them hyped up."

Resigned, you're glad you decided to doll yourself up a bit for the matches. You'd make the other teams jealous of Hinata for having a cute cheerleader on their side. You nod, resolutely, holding back a grimace when you notice the team looking extremely nervous.

They would be fine...right?

You decide to go hunt down some stomach medicine for the freckled first year, who looked like he was a second away from blowing his breakfast all over the court. Throwing a salute to Kiyoko, you stride away, breaking into a quick jog down the corridors when you hear the announcer.

You crash into someone at full speed, and you have just enough time to yell out an "Oh shit!" before you take the person down, landing on top of them. The first thing your brain notices is how hard and muscly the body under you is, and you find yourself turning red, pushing yourself up on the boy quickly, stopping when you see his face.

He's...really handsome. You're kind of mad at how handsome he is. Thick furrowed eyebrows, cute spiky hair, and body built like a brickhouse, and tan cheeks dusted with a pink, that was probably mirroring yours.

Except...his chin and most of his neck is glowing with a really pretty combination of blue and purple. It looks kind of silly, but they fade away even as you watch. The boy sits up in a hurry, and the position ends up with you on his lap, and you feel your face getting hotter. You look down and notice your own hands are also covered in a weird glow.

What the...

You raise your hand to his face, unable to stop yourself. You had a hypothesis, and your brain was running at a hundred miles an hour.

The boy watches you as you press a finger to his face, feeling his warm skin. You pull your finger away and it blazes a bright orange, the spot where you pressed against his cheek also glowing, like a facsimile of a highlight.

He grabs your hand, and the both of you stare at your interlocked hands, the colors forming slowly where your skin touches.

Well. You're glad your suspicions about having a soulmate didn't let you down. You kind of think you hit the jackpot with him too, considering he was one of the hottest people you've ever seen.

His face is blazing red. "What..?"

Ah.

"I did not mean to say that loud..." You realize you're still on his lap, and you scramble back. He snorts, getting up, and pulling yourself up with him. You note he still hasn't let go of your hand.

The announcer blares out, and the both of you jump like you're struck by lightning, the dreamy moment broken. He straightens, and points to you.

"After my match." He looks over you, and winces, remembering something. "You're a Karasuno student, huh...I'm pretty sure our next match is against your team. I'll find you after we win."

You puff up in indignation. The audacity!

"My baby brother and his team are going to kick your ass!" You stomp your feet, turning around to storm away, your hair whipping around your face. You feel a hand wrap around your upper arm as he pulls you back into him, snorting in amusement at your anger.

"You're also really pretty, by the way." You huff, looking around for people before reaching in and pressing a quick kiss to his cheeks, extremely light and quick, the only hint of it the light glow on his cheek that fades away in a second. You wonder if your lips are tinted. You guess they are, from the way he stares at them.

"Charmer. I'll see you later. Sorry about rooting against you."

You escape his grasp while he's still shocked from your kiss, winking at him. You had a nervous team to cheer for.

You hunt down your soulmate after the match. You had explained to Hinata quickly what had happened before the match started, and he nodded at you understandingly when you slink away from the celebrating team. You find a lone figure sitting on a bench, head bent, and you sigh, hoisting up the moist towels in your arm, glad you came prepared.

You sneak up to him, wrapping a towel around his neck, and he whips his head at you in shock, before relaxing and realizing who it was.

"Come to gloat?" He asks, before a regretful look crosses his face.

You move in front of him, holding his face in your hands. You watch his cheeks glow as you rub your fingers across them gently. It's weird how comfortable you are with doing that, but he didn't seem bothered by it either so you aren't going to stop.

"I'm going to ignore that because I understand that you're sad. For what it's worth, you were really cool out there."

"We still lost."

"Karasuno's pretty scary now, huh." You grin, proudly, and he lets out a sigh. "My brother, Hinata. He's the spunky middle blocker."

Okay, maybe you were gloating a bit. But today was the first time you saw them in action, and they were a lot more intense and good than you expected. You didn't know a lot about volleyball, but the stuff they were doing definitely looked super cool. You kind of understood Hinata's descriptors of 'BWAAH' and 'BOOM' now to describe their moves.

"That kid is your brother? That explains some things.." You look at him questioningly, and he shakes his head at you.

"I'm not gonna ask, I think. Iwaizumi, right?"

He's startled, realizing he doesn't even know your name. You introduce yourself to him, and he mouths your name, voicing it out.

"It's Hajime to you. You're my soulmate."

You grin at him, pulling him up from the bench. "Hajime, then. You know, there's a silver lining to your team losing today." He grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers. You lean onto him cheerfully. "What is it?"

"You get to be comforted by your soulmate, of course! Let's go get some dinner, on me!"

Clearly cheered up by the prospect, he smiles at you, and you feel your heart flutter. Seriously, you must have saved a country in your previous life to get a soulmate this cute. You were determined to stain him with every color of the rainbow all over his body by the end of today.

He pulls you along. "Let me introduce you to my team first." You walk alongside him, wrapping yourself around his arm, needling at him to explain to you volleyball terms, the colors at the junction of where your skin meets his as bright as the setting sun.

There are a few unshakeable facts to his life that Hajime knows will never change.

Oikawa Tooru is his best friend. When he introduces you to him, you cheerfully exclaim "Grand king! I think I'm supposed to beat you up!" and Oikawa sputters. Hajime doesn't hold back his laughter as Oikawa pouts, but you're paying more attention to Hajime, distracted by his laughter, moving in again to brush your fingers across his cheek.

Hajime loves seeing the colors appear on you. He loves the different shades they take, how they perfectly look like the imprint of his fingers when he presses them into your waist, when he grips the back of your neck and kisses you, when he brushes them across your forehead. He especially loves seeing them on your lips. He thinks they probably look a bit ridiculous to other people with their stained lips, but to him its the most endearing thing he's ever seen.

You also love seeing the colors on him. You've always been a bit possessive of your belongings, and Hajime is yours in a way no one else will ever be. You love watching the colors appear on his arms as you grip them, wrapping yourself around him as you both walk together. You also adore pressing kisses to his cheeks and lips, surprising him almost every time you do it. You know the marks you leave on his neck sometimes last much for an entire day, and you know he deals with the ribbing from his teammates every time they see it. It just entices you to leave more.

Most of all, Hajime knows that his soulmate loves him.

The colours dance around your boyfriend’s chest, as you trail your fingers down it. You’re lying on top of him, your arm crossed and supporting your head on his stomach, as you entertain yourself.

You pout when he stays asleep, dead to the world. Apparently your naughty shenanigans last night had knocked him out good, and you’re kind of proud of yourself for it.

But that was neither here nor there, and right now you wanted his attention. You moved up, biting his cheek, and he jostles awake with surprise, closing his eyes again when he realizes it’s just you.

“Go back to sleep then, baby.”

“Brat…”

You giggle, tweaking his nose.“I’m bored, Hajime.”

With a groan, you bury your face in his neck, enjoying his warmth and smell. “Don’t wanna. You’re so busy with your team…it feels like forever since we’ve been like this.”

He’s silent at your words, his hands coming down and squeezing your thighs, pulling at them. “Hey…I’m sorry about that. You’ve given up so much for me and I’ve repaid you by being too busy to spend time with you...”

You raise your head, frowning, and flick his forehead. “Ow!”

“Idiot!” Your cheeks puff up in anger. “You’re following your dreams, Hajime. It’s so fucking cool that you’re a trainer for the Olympics team now. You don’t have to apologize to me for anything. You’re my soulmate and I love you.”

He stares at you, his expression warm. Bending down, his lips brush across your cheeks lightly, and you giggle at the feeling. “I don’t deserve you.” He pulls back, watching the colour dance across your cheeks and nose where his lips brushed your face, before fading away.

You scoff at him. “You deserve the best.”

“And that’s you?”

“Of course it is.” You poke your tongue out at him. “What’s got you in such a melancholic mood today?” Any other time with you naked on him would have led to a lot of teasing and groping by now. He’s holding himself back.

“I met Tooru today.”

“Oh?” You sit up on his chest, curiously, and he supports you without any effort, his hands moving up to your waist.

“He told me he found out who his soulmate is, love.”

“But isn’t he still dating that manager of yours from high school..?” Hajime nods, and you whistle. “He’s pretty conflicted about the whole thing. He feels really bad for leaving his soulmate alone, but he’s been dating her for as long as we have. He thought they’d make it.” You’re silent at first. “So this is what’s gotten you worried?”

“He’s my best friend and I’ve been worrying about him forever..I’ve rarely seen him this broken up about things.”

You run your fingers over his hard stomach and chest comfortingly. “He’ll figure it out, Hajime. He always has.” Admittedly, you’ve always been a skeptic of him and his girlfriend. You frown at the thought. Hajime had told you pretty early on about his feelings for her and you often thought about how you would have felt if you had met Hajime while he was dating her instead. And now someone else was in that position.

Your boyfriend knows you well, and immediately knows where your mind is heading. He picks up your hand with his, interlocking your fingers and kissing it. “Idiot. I’m here with you now.” You slap at his chest.

“I know! I can’t believe you ever thought you didn’t have a soulmate.”

His fingers pinch at your thigh and you yelp in surprise. “My apologies, princess. Not all of us can have the same self-confidence you did when you thought you had a soulmate. I didn’t even have a mark.”

“And now you’re covered with them all the time.”

He knows that if he looked down where your body met his, it’d be glowing with different colours. The colours themselves were sometimes bright, sometimes muted, sometimes they’d last for hours and sometimes they would fade away after he took his hands off you, so quickly it’s like they were never there.

You’ve tested the way the colours appear extensively (intentionally and unintentionally…you’ve always found it hard to keep your hands off him) but you’ve never discovered any sort of pattern. You both concluded that it was just random, if pretty.

“Totally not embarrassing having to show up for training with orange marks all over my neck. You know your cousin is on the team, right?”

You giggle unapologetically at him. “Just think of it as revenge for whatever PDA Hinata and Atsumu throw at you. I know it’s a lot.”

Your boyfriend groans at the very thought. “I have lost count of the amount of times I’ve spiked balls into their heads to interrupt them. I thought we were bad. Most of the team is very traumatized.”

You coo at him. “My poor baby. We are definitely worse and you know it.”

He snorts. “I’ll show you worse.”

He lifts you, both hands going around your waist, making you support yourself on your knees. You start to complain before you’re silenced quickly, your words cutting off into a moan as he releases one hand from your waist to rub you, experienced fingers finding your clit quickly.

You’ve been together for quite a while, and know each other’s bodies as well as your own by now. It doesn’t take him long to work you up into a frenzy, his fingers entering you.

“You’re so wet already for me, you cute little slut.” He stretches you, his fingers scissoring. “Just look at that.”

He withdraws them from inside you and you whine in annoyance at the sudden emptiness, your thighs shaking. You flush red looking at the juices from you coating his fingers.

“Hajime…please.”

“Hmm? Please what?” You’re annoyed at how unbothered he looks lying down in comparison to your flustered self, and you poke at his chest. He repays you with a spank to your ass, and you yelp in surprise. “Behave. And use your words. I know that pretty mouth has its uses other than moaning for me.”

You’re pouting, but you’re enjoying this tremendously, and he knows it. Nothing gets you hot and bothered more than your boyfriend going all authoritative on you.

“I need you in me..”

You sit back down on him, feeling him hot and hard right under you. Moving back and forth slowly, you grind on him, covering him in slick.

You pick up the hand of his that was inside you, inserting his fingers in your mouth and tasting yourself on him. He grips your cheek, dislodging your hands.

“Shit..shit, okay.”

He lets go of your face, lifting you again slightly, before entering you. Your body arched as he pushed the head of the shaft in, your wetness offering little resistance. You both groan in unison as you bottom out. “Can’t hold myself back against you, baby girl.”

You giggle as you feel his thickness fill you out. You supported your hands on his stomach as you began to move up again slowly, and gasped as his hips surged up to meet yours with ease.

Hajime runs his hands down your body, his fingers tweaking at your nipples, grinning at the temporary stain of colour that covered them. You looked ever so pretty on his dick, bouncing up and down, covered in the colours that marked you solely as his. Your eyes are closed, your hair flowing down your back, the sounds of your skin slapping against his intermixed with the soft sound of rain outside your window.

He continues moving his hips slowly, the warmth of you covering him so well it’s driving him a little bit insane. He takes the opportunity while your eyes are closed to reach a single arm out to the side where the nightstand drawer is, extracting something he’d been keeping hidden for a while.

You’re in heaven, as he hit your sweet spots, filling you out so well, your pussy clenching around him tight. You startle as he picks up your hand lying on his chest and you feel something cold moving down your finger.

“What..?”

Your eyes fly open, looking down to where he’s interlocked your fingers with his. Your eyes lock onto the shiny band now adorning your fingers, the rock on it glittering. You pause moving, your brain trying to catch up. You meet his eyes, and they’re warm with his love, the unasked question in the air.

“You’re…you’re such an idiot, Hajime!” You gasp out, tears springing into your eyes. A hint of worry is in his expression as he notices your damp eyes. “Sweetheart..?”

“Hurry up and cum in me so I can admire my new ring! Who proposes during sex? We’re gonna get my sweat all over it!”

You whine, and he laughs, sitting up, leaning against the headboard. He grips your waist as your arms fly around his neck, and kisses you as he speeds up, gripping your ass. “I love you.” His lips continue to move across your face, kissing away your tears, swallowing your moans, until they finally latch onto your neck, as he bites and sucks at it. Your nails dig into his back. “I’m close, Hajime-“

“I got you, baby, it’s okay.”

You bury your face in his shoulders as you climax, feeling your cum mix with his as he empties himself inside you, the mixture of fluids leaking out. You shiver as you both take a moment to get a hold of yourselves, and he adjusts himself again, whispering praises into your ear as he falls back onto the bed ,taking you down with him, still inside you. You lie down on his chest, panting, feeling his move up and down with you as he kisses the top of your head.

You turn your head to the side when you’ve caught your breath, bringing up your hand to your face and examining the ring on it.

“I swear I had a proper proposal all planned out.” He grabs your hand, rubbing across it with his thumb. “I was going to take you out to a fancy dinner, get on my knees, go the whole way. Bribe the waiter to put the ring in champagne.”

You flush at his words, feeling your eyes dampen again. “You’re making me tear up again.”

“You looked so pretty right there. I couldn’t resist.” He kisses your hand gently. “I’m sorry for not making it fancier.”

“It’s perfect.” You lift your head, joining your lips to his. “I’d marry you right now if I could. I like the sound of Mrs. Iwaizumi a lot…”

He hisses, turning you both to your sides, hooking your leg around his. “You’re going to get me going again if you call yourself that.”

You laugh. “So eager to wife me up, Hajime?”

“Have been for years, baby girl.” Gripping at your thighs, he pulls himself out of you, admiring the sight of your cum and his dripping out of you. You wince at the feeling of the liquids cooling between your thighs, and he notices, getting out of bed and lifting you in his arms. “Shower first, though.”

“Ooooh.” You wrap your arms around his neck as he carries you in, hooking your head on his shoulder and admiring your hand with the ring. “So husbandly already, Mr. Iwaizumi~”

You hear his smile as the door shuts behind you and he places you on the bathroom counter, leaning in. Your hand grips his hair as he nips at you, the two of you marking each other with the colours of the rainbow. “Anything for my future wife.”

#iwaizumi hajime x reader #woa! here be smut!#soulmate au #this is just rly fluffy and self indulgent like everything i ever write bshedjfgbdhrgdhgfbrdgf #i love soulmate aus...#sorry2 oikawa tooru hes going thru it in this au i think #keep ur head up king..#anyway enjoy!! aaaaaaaaaaaaa #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #iwaizumi hajime x you

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kenjicopy · 9 months

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Pedido entregue no @flyhighpjct Título: All the stars aligned and you and I ended up in the same place at the same time

#capa anime #capa social spirit #capa de fanfic #capa romântica #capa fluffy #capa iwaoi #iwaoi #iwaizumi hajime #oikawa tooru #kenjicopy

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fum1ku · 4 months

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FIRST “I LOVE YOU” - HQ BOYS

ft. osamu miya, kei tsukishima, koushi sugawara, kenma kozume, hajime iwaizumi, tobio kageyama

OSAMU: it had been a long day at onigiri miya. rush hour had kicked ‘samu’s ass and he had just now, it being well past 9pm, stumbled into his apartment. as soon as he entered the door he lazily kicked off his work shoes and tossed his keys aside, collapsing into the arm chair in his living room. took a second, but he finally heard you shuffling around in the kitchen.

“baby?” he mumbled, hardly picking his head up enough to look to where he thought you were.

“‘samu? sorry, didn’t hear you come in. how was work?” you shouted from the kitchen.

he finally dragged himself up and into the kitchen to find you, stirring around a pot on the stove. and just a few seconds later he heard the rice cooker go off.

he could smell the delicious, savory smell of the curry you were heating on the stove. his eyes brighten when he watched you pile up the the fluffy rice into a bowl and scoop some of the curry you made on top.

placing it down on the counter you called, “‘samu?”

he quickly snapped back into reality. “work? sorry. work was.. rough. long day. tired.”

“oh, i’m sorry, baby. at least you have tomorrow off,” you smiled, making another bowl of rice and curry.

he wrapped his arms around your waist as you stood over the stove, burying his face into your neck. he could smell the soft scent of your perfume mixed with your shampoo.

“didn’t think you were comin’ over,” he mumbled.

“yeah.. sorry, ‘samu. i just let myself in. i saw how busy the shop was today and thought you might like something to eat once you finally got home.”

you were both quiet for awhile. you had set your second bowl aside and just stood there, feeling the warmth of osamu’s breath against your neck. until osamu finally spoke up.

“i love you,” he said, his words muffled into the crook of your neck.

you laughed. “i love you too, ‘samu. let’s go eat, okay?”

KEI: it had been your first time meeting kei’s family. everything was going well, so far. his mother was the sweetest. and akiteru made you laugh while he told you all the embarrassing bits of tsukishima’s childhood. but, between chatting and dinner, kei made the executive decision to drag you up to his room for awhile to take a break—just him and you. plus you had just been begging to see his childhood room.

he plopped down on his bed as you shut the door behind you. you took a minute to glance around his room, noticing the dinosaur figurines lined on his shelf; the few posters on his wall.

“this was your room in high school?” you mused, holding back your laugher.

“yeah. what about it?” he snarked.

“it’s just so.. y’know?”

“sure. whatever,” he said, folding his glasses and putting them to the side as he later down on his bed.

you spent another minute glancing around the room again. then, smirking, you made your way over to kei’s bed. you laid down right atop of him, wrapping your arms around his slim torso.

“what are you doing?” he questioned, an annoyed tone laced into his words. “you’re squishing me.”

“good,” you mumbled into his chest.

“idiot,” he grimaced, only to whisper a soft “i love you” afterwards.

you perked your head up.

“oh? kei tsukishima loves me?” you teased.

“oh, shut up. idiot.”

KOUSHI: you both had worked at the same school for over a year now. he had been the first person to show you around the campus and introduce to you the best cafe for lunch just around the corner from the school yard. he took you there often, especially after you two were official.

you sat just across from him as you picked around at the plate in front of you, taking an occasional sip of your coffee. you were rambling about the kids in your class—how amazing, talented, and smart they all were—and about future lesson plan ideas.

koushi listened intently. smiling as your eyes beamed with excitement as your bounced from topic to topic.

“oh! koushi! we could do a whole lesson around this book—shoot. i don’t remember the name of it. but i know that—”

his eyes stared at you, lovesick. focused on the way your lips moved as your spoke; the way your eyes shined with pride as your went on and on about your students.

“i love you,” he said, stopping you in the middle of your rant.

you paused for a moment, feeling the red tint that overtook your face. “i-i love you too, koushi!”

he couldn’t help but softly laugh at your embarrassment. oh how he loved you.

KENMA: you often would hang out on the couch in the corner of kenma’s gaming room, reading a book or scrolling on your phone as he held his streams. you’d softly laugh to yourself as you watched your boyfriend play his games or respond to his fans in the chat.

as soon as his stream ended he’d toss his headphones to the side (maybe toss is an overstatement. those things were too expensive to toss) and make his way towards your corner of the room. he’d lay down on you and push his head under your arms as you still held your book in front of you.

you laughed as his antics, placing your book to the side. “tired, kodzuken?”

he absolutely hated it when you called him by his streamer name, but he was too tired to care. he only nodded his head in response to your question.

this only made you laugh more. “shouldn’t have stayed up so late gaming last night, hm?”

he groaned in response, burying his face into your chest. you softy ran your hands through his hair.

“okay then, you big baby. take a nap with me then,” you smiled, planting a soft kiss atop his head.

“i love you, y/n,” he said, his words muffed—making it sound more like “i wughv vyou, y/n”.

you chuckled. “i love you too.. kodzuken.”

HAJIME: iwaizumi always had early mornings as a trainer. your sexy boyfriend and his early morning runs, as you’d best describe it.

you noticed the dim light that shone through the cracks of the bathroom door. you rolled over and looked at the alarm on your bedside table. 4:58am. not even 5 o’clock yet,m. you groaned.

iwaizumi suddenly walked out the bathroom door.

“babe? go back to sleep, it’s early. you don’t have to be awake yet,” he softly said as he sat down at the edge of your shared bed, putting on his compression sleeves. you made your way over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“haji,” you groaned. “come back to bed. it’s too early.”

“i know, i know, but i’ll be back before you even get up. promise.”

you sat up, still keeping your arms wrapped around him. you pressed a soft trail of kisses down his neck.

“or you could come back to bed with me right now,” you cooed in between a few kisses.

he turned around to face you, cupping each side of your face in his hands. he pressed his lips to yours for a quick kiss.

“i’ll be back before you know it,” he said, walking towards the door to your bedroom. “i love you!”

the door closed behind him. you groaned. “love you too, jackass!”

TOBIO: he loved you. he knew that way before he ever said it. he knew he loved you the day you showed up to his big game with his jersey on, smiling in the crowd. he knew he loved you when you iced his wrist after he screwed up during practice one day, scolding him for not being more careful. he knew he loved you when you’d get up to go on his morning runs with him on your days off—even if you lagged behind him and complained about how the cold morning air nipped at your skin. he loved you. so much. but saying it? a completely different scenario.

he was laying down in his bed as you brushed your teeth in his bathroom—the door wide open. you rinsed out your mouth, turned off the bathroom light, and made your way into bed beside him. you wrapped your arms around him, feeling his body go stiff beneath your touch. but, after a few seconds he eased into it.

you slowly drifted off to sleep, softly breathing beneath him. he was still wide awake, too focused on the way your hand rested against his chest for him to be able to sleep.

he sighed, breathlessly. “y/n.. i love you. so much.”

your body stirred beneath him. you pressed a kiss to his forearm as he tightly held onto you. “i love you too, tobio. s’much.”

his face went red. “i thought you were asleep..”

⁂ taglist: none currently !! let me know if you want to be added ;)

my requests are always open! please feel free to drop a lil something to keep me inspired with new ideas for fanfics <3

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realcube · 2 months

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leader of the sassy man apocalypse.

biggest tone checker. "say that again, but nicely."

when you tell him a story that involves any other man, he'll interupt immediately and say smth like "oh, so your boyfriend" or "and what position were you guys in?"

pretends like he doesn't care at first when you're gossiping to him but soon he is thoroughly engaged. providing the most messy commentary and asking you to elaborate on all the details.

gets so peeved when you don't respond to his gm/gn texts. "fuck me then 😃" (jokingly ofc)

wears your fluffy headband/bonnet around the house to keep his hair out of his face and when you tease him for it, he claims you're just mad bc he looks better in it.

audibly prays for his life when you are in the driver's seat. spewing all sorts of shi about he's too young and good-looking to die 😩

OIKAWA, tsukishima, atsumu, YAKU, kenma, matsukawa, tendou, suna, shirabu

a saving grace during times of need.

a true gentleman: opens doors for you, buys you flowers, walks you home after dates, holds yours hand in busy areas, carries you if your feet are sore & kisses the back of your hands.

you will never carry shopping bags again in your life, even if they only have a couple of items inside. that's his job now.

as soon as an arguement escalates beyond playful teasing and you start to become visibly argry at him, he instantly hits you with the "yes, ma'am." or "you're right, darling."

when you give him your bag to hold (like a purse or a handbag), he takes it happily but is so awkward about it and will not wear it on his shoulder. he'll either hold it by the handles or cradle it in his arms like a baby.

prays and prays it rains or is cold so he can give you a jacket while on dates. and insists you keep it too, otherwise he will get a complex about it. why didn't you want it? do you think it's ugly? is it because you never plan on seeing him again? is it stinky?!

will feed you snacks while you're getting a manicure.

yamaguchi, DAICHI, ushijima, iwaizumi, osamu, aran, yamamoto, semi, ASAHI

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x imagines #haikyuu oikawa #yamaguchi x reader #oikawa x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyu x you #daichi x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa fluff #pls this is not hate #i love a sassy man

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w-a-t-e-r-m-e-l-o-n-e · 8 months

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haikyuu confessing over text pt. 3

featuring: ushijima wakatoshi, Iwaizumi hajime, miya osamu, and hinata shoyo

warnings: none, fluffy, sfw

haikyuu x g/n reader

a/n: idk what is up with me and making all of them confused in this series but it’s hilarious to me

masterlist

haikyuu confessing over text pt. 1

haikyuu confessing over text pt. 2

thank you for reading <3

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atsumulogy · 2 years

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WHEN YOUR CO-WORKER CALLS HIMSELF YOUR “WORK HUSBAND”

synopsis: how he reacts to your co-worker calling himself your “work husband”

featuring: miya atsumu, oikawa tooru, & iwaizumi hajime. fem!reader.

content warning(s): jealousy, possessive boys, weird co-worker, suggestive at iwa’s part 😵 sorry my hands slipped lmao. also grammar mistakes … have mercy i wrote this kinda half asleep + use of wife

naia’s footnote: yk that work wife thing? yeah, that but with a twist with the hq men 🤭 jealous scenarios are my guilty pleasure LOL i wrote this when i was supposed to be doing smth actually productive 😓‼️also i got carried away w atsumu’s haha

REQUESTS ARE OPEN! rb’s & likes are appreciated

#01 — WHEN COMING AS YOUR PLUS ONE IN YOUR OFFICE’S FANCY EVENT, MIYA ATSUMU didn’t want to admit it but he kind of expected to be fawned over by your female colleagues — not that he wanted them to! It’s just … expected, seeing how absolutely hot your husband is (the expensive suit and tie and all). What he did not expect was being introduced to your … what was it? Ahh, yes, “work husband”.

The absolute audacity and sheer nerve of this bastard to call himself that in front of him, the actual husband on the documents and in your heart.

Work husband. He scoffs silently, face scrunching up in irritation, poking his cheeks with his tongue instead of making a fuss in this exclusive event where lots of important people are present. As much as he cares for obliterating this man in front of him, he cares more about you and didn’t want to cause you any issues with your workplace.

(Though, if this ugly scrub touches your arm again and joke about Atsumu being the side chick, he wasn’t so sure that he wouldn’t cause a scene.)

Besides, the 24 karat gold necklace hanging around your neck with his initials attached to the chains and the elegant ring on your finger makes it painfully clear that your self-proclaimed work husband has no chance against the Miya Atsumu.

BONUS:

Atsumu may have acted mature about the situation while in the event, but behind closed doors he was whining and grumbling about that annoyin’ scrub.

“— like I still can’t believe he had the guts to say that in front of me!” He scoffs, face scrunching up again, his mouth forming a scowl. “Work husband… tsk, i’m yer only husband! hell, i’ll be yer work husband, house husband, and every other fuckin’ husband title there is!”

Instead of informing your husband that it doesn’t work like that, you nod to every word he said every time he looks at your eyes to back him up on his rant.

“Yes baby, I know. Now why don’t we get you a trophy with all those husband titles, hm?” You jokingly offered, patting his fluffy blonde hair.

Next week a package arrived carrying a shiny gold trophy with the words “Miya Y/n’s only house husband, work husband, and everything else in between” customized on the front <3

#02 — OIKAWA TOORU SCOFFED AFTER SOME IRRELEVANT, MEDIOCRE, UGLY MAN introduced himself as your “work husband”, somewhat offended because someone dared crown themselves a self-proclaimed title as your work husband — like that bastard is even worthy enough to be breathing the same air as you!

He recognizes this man to be the man you ranted to him about that was inappropriately acting like he’s close with you and many other women of your office.

Wanting to do you and the other women of your office a favor, he decided to humble him.

“Last time I checked, there was no side piece. And if there were to be a side piece — which will never happen by the way! — my wife would pick someone better looking than you. As you can see she has great taste, since she married me and only me. But you should know that by now, hm? Our wedding was even on the news!” showing the ring on his finger, wiggling it even to show emphasis, his tone and his (threatening) smile was friendly, but you all know that it was anything but that.

Oikawa Tooru is an intimidating opponent, both in and out of the court.

#03 — NEVER IN HIS 25 YEARS OF LIVING HAS IWAIZUMI HAJIME met a more annoying and repulsive person such as the man in front of him that cockily and casually called himself as your “work husband”.

You felt his beefy arms tighten around your waist, he leans in to you closely, his hot breath heating up your ears as he asked you with low voice, however still (purposely) loud enough for the guy in front of you two to hear. “Baby, do you even know him?”

You nodded, “He’s just some guy in the finance department who’s really weird, Hajime. I don’t even remember his name. Sato? Aoki?”

The man before you deflated, his cocky stance nowhere to be seen as he scoffs defensively, “It’s Nakamura —”

“— Yeah, sure, well my wife and I have somewhere else to be now. So goodbye Ishikawa-san.” He purposely used a different name — politely even, to mock him and push his buttons.

“It’s Nakamu —”

“Bye Sato-kun!” You played along with your husband’s petty antics, waving him off before locking your arms around Hajime’s before snuggling close to him as you two walked away. The both of you bursting out laughing once you guys think the guy was far away enough to not hear you two.

“Have you seen his face! He deserved that humbling experience!” You snorted, Hajime rolling his eyes as he remembers the guy.

“Okay but who even is he really? Is he always so flirtatious with you? What even is a work husband? Last time I checked, I’m the one who gave you that new last name of yours.” He grumbled, irritated at the thought of that bastard flirting with you at work when your husband wasn’t there.

“Aw, babe, you know that you’re the only one for me.” you patted his cheeks affectionately, smiling at him while giggling.

He does. He knows it, a bit too well at times. So he sighs and he lets it go. Because he knows that at the end of the day, he’s the one you come home to, he’s the one you cling onto while watching your favorite shows, he’s the one that rests his free hand on your thighs whenever you two go for a drive.

And tonight, he’s the one that will lay you down on the bed and touch you, talk to you, and feel you in ways that only he can do.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x you #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x reader #atsumu fluff #oikawa fluff #iwaizumi fluff #haikyuu drabbles #hq x reader #haikyuu!!

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educatedsimps · 5 months

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— a kiss on the shoulder

≪ back to fics masterlist

HQ headcanons when you kiss his shoulder for the first time :)

multiple haikyuu x gn!reader, reader is average height and shorter than hq men for the sake of this hc HAHA

a/n: just some fluffy thoughts i had inspired by my bf

holding hands with him was the usual whenever you hung out or went out together and the feeling of your hand in his always felt really nice

maybe it was a nice evening out and you two decided to take a walk down the street or run some errands together

inevitably you felt the urge to give him a peck on the cheek or the lips every once in a while, but if you’re conservative and shy you might not want to in public (or if he’s shy abt pda)

on top of that he’s taller than you, so there’s physically no way to kiss him without tip toeing and/or pulling him down towards you

so in a moment of ingenious thinking, you decided to kiss his shoulder instead

i mean it's the most convenient place to kiss him while you're walking so why not

anyway, then you watched as his eyes widened a little and his cheeks flushed an adorable pink

asahi, KAGEYAMA, tsukki, yamaguchi, oikawa, IWAIZUMI, kuroo, bokuto, AKAASHI, USHIJIMA, tendo, osamu, suna, kita, aran

bonus!

the ones who would reach over, grab your chin and kiss the top of your head in response then give your hand a lil squeeze as you keep walking ↳ IWAIZUMI, OSAMU, kita, aran

the ones who would stop and go "...what are you doing." but are inwardly freaking out because your lips left a tingly feeling on his skin (he secretly loves it) ↳ TSUKKI, kageyama, akaashi (would def give you a bunch of kisses once you get home tho)

the ones who would tease tf outta you cuz "don't you want the real thing? hm?" ↳ KUROO, SUNA, tendo

and the ones who would start stuttering and blushing even more ↳ BOKUTO, yamaguchi, asahi probably he's a softie

© educatedsimps 2024. do not repost, copy, translate or plagiarize any work from this blog on tumblr or any other platforms. if you do, the simps will hunt you down. but likes and reblogs are appreciated!

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iwaasfairy · 1 year

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┌─ “ ! „ TROPHY

tw. noncon, yandere, explicit gore, lobotomy, blood, pain, power imbalance, doctor kink, badly aged terms about mental health, domestic abuse mentions, somno implications, praise, choking wordcount. 4.7k

a/n. ♡ i realized all my iwa fics were mostly really fluffy and sweet, so here's a gross one. gotta keep up my reputation yk! tysm to the betas ily ily ily

iwaizumi hajime x fem!reader

The doctors have been standing around in a circle for what feels like hours, scraping their pens against the paper. Each check, each prodding, probing touch feels like it’s going on for the sake of going. Hours today, hours yesterday, on and on into infinity. Your skin feels cold, and you fidget by rubbing your fingers against each other for the briefest spark of warmth, before that too fizzles out into nothing. Because that’s what this is, right? A cold, barren nothingness that swallows up every inch of your body.

You can barely remember the look of the sky outside the metal barred walls that keep you, only catching glimpses that pass too quickly. Or the feeling of warm sunlight shining on your face as you rest against the windowsill, watching cars go by. The brief flash of a memory crosses over your view, a hot summer day and your hair sticking to your neck. Hands winding down your shoulders to keep you in a comfortable embrace, and a kiss to your cheek.

It’s nothing like the cold, sterile walls that you’re looking up at now, sitting on the cold metal stretcher with your wrists wrapped in leather. This is all you are now. This is what keeps you separate from the nutcases in the other wing. Little threat of re-offending.

One of the older men pushes his small, round glasses higher up his nose as he approaches, and waves a light past your eyes a few times, snapping his fingers all the while. “Any lightheadedness? Dizziness? Spots in your vision to be concerned about?” You wouldn’t know it with the callous way he regards you, but apparently they’re trying to help. That’s what they say, when they drag you out of your cage. The burning of the light makes your eyes water, but you blink that wetness away as best as you can.

“No, Doctor.”

The graying man runs his eyes along the sheet on his clipboard, and then his mouth corners pull down, as a few of the other equally graying men start mumbling among each other again, feeling far off. Everything feels far off with the stuff they’ve been putting in you lately. More drugs. More tests. It all feels like a never ending cycle — even though the sane part of you knows it isn’t. Or, wasn’t, until you bit one of the men who tried to lead your face to his crotch with the threat of beating you to death. You bit so hard that they had to amputate, is what you heard, before they shot you full of cotton.

And you’d cry, if you were any more awake. The tears don’t spill, they just sit on your vision and wobble at best. What all of the men in this room see when they look at you, is a violent young killer. They ask you about it when you’re shot up with fluids until you can barely hold your eyes open, and you have to pretend to really hear them. To be remorseful. How can you, when you can’t even remember your own face? You forget your name seconds after they call it. And most frustrating of all, is that you do remember that you can’t remember. This is forever, no matter how little threat there is of re-offending now that they’ve ‘found’ the right mix of chemicals to knock you out like a light.

They say you killed your fiancé with a kitchen knife.

You might have… the honest truth is that you don’t know. The pictures look entirely foreign, even though that face, that mouth, that tear-stricken expression is supposedly you. You don’t remember getting your head smashed against the kitchen counter until blood coated the entire bottom half of your face, and trying to get away. You don’t remember grabbing the knife and plunging it into your fiancé’s collar, or anything that came after it either. It’s like the blood running out of your nose got clogged up and now, you can’t recall anything at all.

Just these gray walls, and the cold floor of your ‘room’, and the brief walks you’re allowed to take outside under the cloudy weather that always surrounds the criminal hospital. All these men standing before you know more about you than you do yourself. More wetness wells up in your eyes, but it doesn’t spill. You don’t feel violent. But you also can barely hold your head up without the support of the metal brace, and they say you did what you did. At this point, your thoughts are too heavy and slow to disprove any of it, pooling in your mouth with your spit— and gliding down your throat each time you risk choking when you swallow.

“How about we call it for today?” A coarse voice sounds from the far off confines of the cloudiness that the drugs leave you with. But it’s a voice that sparks something yet, accompanied by the only young face that you’ve seen in a while. He’s tall and dark haired and intense, but looks too at ease when he walks along, stopping a few feet short. Everyone else looks like you’re a wild animal. But he’s warmer, like sand after a long day of baking in the sun. “You’ve done well,” he almost smiles at you, then turns to them. “That’s alright, isn’t it? My patient’s been awfully accommodating with all the tests.”

He carries this air about him that’s more familiar, where his hand lands on the top of your head and he gently brushes your crown in circles. You feel your head bobbing because of the pressure, and your eyes heavier than before. When you gain more awareness again, you’re already back in the small four walls that keep you enclosed— and the Doctor is crouched before you. Beautiful greens stare into your eyes, a few fingers holding your chin up. It’s warm. Your mouth feels dry and cottony when you speak, and hold your eyes open as best you can. “Sir.”

“Hm?” His free hand slides something into your ear, that’s cold and beeps softly, before he looks again. “Do you know where you are? Do you know who I am?” After a bit of silence, he sighs, and you smell the musk of him, mixed with some cologne that stings your lungs a little. But it’s better than nothing, and your mouth waters like you’re really just a dog. “Your bouts of amnesia have been getting worse lately, hm, sweet girl? Naturally…” His fingers go from holding your head up to along your throat, brushing hot circles there for just a few seconds, before he takes the beeping tool out again. “I’m your main physician here, remember? You asked for me specifically.”

That seems to bring him a lot of pride, because when he hangs back more onto his heels, he gives you a tooth-aching smile. “Dr. Iwaizumi Hajime.” You suppose he wants to see some kind of recognition, but you’re not sure what to say. Aside from the vaguest hint of recognition of the handsome planes of his face, everything stays that same muddled sea of glue that you can’t pull your feet out of. You do your best to smile though, muscles aching.

“Oh, yes.”

“Are you still feeling ill?” he turns to his box of tools, and you slump along the wall as soon as he lets you go. Not enough to topple over, but enough to feel more like a filled sack of sand, than a human. “Still having hot flares?” He places his large palm over your forehead, and scans your expression once over again. “If it were up to me they wouldn’t pump you full of this shit, y’know. Sadly even your personal physician doesn’t have full say over that, of course, so I have to play nice with the other doctors.” Then he cups your cheek, and though maybe you’d shy away otherwise, the kind touch of another human being has your bottom lip wobbling. “There she is. You’ve been awfully docile these last few weeks. Haven’t heard you make a peep.”

The tone shifts to one of slightly more concern, and your heavy lids flutter. “I don’t know.”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t, sweetheart.” He starts packing up his things ever so neatly when you just start getting feeling back in your fingers— and you probably shouldn’t, but with enormous effort you manage to grab onto the bottom of his white coat, surprising the doctor enough that it goes quiet. You just want… to talk to another person a little longer. Does that make you a bad patient? Your tongue is molten against the bottom of your mouth, but your fingers still tighten clumsily into the fabric.

Dr. Iwaizumi only thinks for a moment when heat creeps up to his ears, before he closes the gap. Closes the gap and … has your mouth against his, a wet tongue that isn’t your own invades your space like it isn’t anything at all, and spit that mixes with yours as your lips are opened with some effort. He kisses on you, licks into your mouth as you let your eyes fall shut and your hand clings onto him -unsure where to go- to flee. And get kissed deeply, passionately, your head knocked against the wall at your back. But he’s warm, and your goosebumps let up for the first time, even as he doesn’t allow you to pull back with both hands around your cheeks. Not until your body automatically starts making a noise, and you start to struggle.

You gasp out for air like you’ve forgotten where it goes— but the brunet barely leaves you any space at all, as a string of spit breaks between you two. And he wipes his thumb over your bottom lip, before sliding it onto your tongue with a gravelly moan. “Ahh, I missed you.” The pressure of his thumb keeping your wiggling tongue in place is suffocating. He leans in to brush his nose and lips along your jaw and cheek. “Always miss you when I have to go.” There’s a soft kiss that tingles across your face, before he pulls back. The noises of other cells echo down the hall, and though you can’t see them, the yelling gets louder. He doesn’t even blink, though. Is this yet another thing you’ve forgotten about?

Judging by the way he takes his thumb out of your mouth to slide it into his own, and then looks at you with such love-stricken adoration, you must have. Your shell-shocked quiet doesn’t stop him from giving you another barely-hidden smile, and he brushes his knuckle under your eye to get rid of some wetness there. “I’ve got to go check up on some others, or else they’ll come looking for me.” He packs up the last of his tools, wiping them clean, before tracing his eyes along your features again. “You’re such a doll. Can’t believe you have to be locked up here.” He stands, then clicks his tongue as he seems to stare through the walls with narrowing brows. “I handled you just fine before, didn’t I?”

You can’t say anything. Not only because you’re still bursting with adrenaline, but it’s not like you remember. He seems to come to this conclusion at the same time, because he then softly laughs. “Ah, you wouldn’t know. Forget I said anything.” He takes a moment to adjust himself in his pants unashamed, then tucks his shirt back properly in— clinging to his built figure too much. With another pat on your crown, he nods. “You’ll start waking up more in an hour or so. I’ll be back.”

With that he leaves you behind, and the heavy metal door gets slid back into place before you get the chance to make another peep. And tears well back up before he even locks the hatch.

The darkness of the room is in sharp contrast with the bright overhead light that’s beaming down on your face. You can’t help it, you’re trashing against the straps that hold you to the table, and the rag that’s in your mouth does nothing to prevent the feeling of sheer panic that takes over you. As several white shapes roam around you with low commands that you can’t make out over the sound of your own crying, you miss the numbing. It was better when you couldn’t feel a thing at all -at least then you wouldn’t be choking on your own tears as you try to take deep breaths.

Everything’s blurry.

But the slight edge in one of the voices pulls for attention, trying to focus on the sound. If you can’t see through your tears, you can listen. “Aren’t we being too hasty? Her memory and attention span have been basically stagnant since June— which means she’s not worsening.” There’s that voice that has been chasing you every waking hour of the last -week, maybe more- rough and low, but comforting nevertheless. You can tell that one of the blurry white shapes moves closer to you, and try to angle yourself to get closer. Even an inch closer would be better.

“No offense Doctor, but your judgment has been overruled. You’re speaking solely out of personal care for the girl.” Another old voice cuts in. “She’s been deteriorating every day, and we simply do not have the funding, Iwaizumi. The only reason we’re allowing you here is for educational purposes. But don’t forget you’re still on probation until the end of this year.”

A hand wraps around your own, feeling much warmer than you are. You cling to it with all the strength you have. Sadly it isn’t much. Your fingers barely obey your will to curl back around the touch, the only thing that’s keeping you tethered to the real world. “I’ll take personal responsibility for her, Sir. She’s been improving in my care—”

“Enough of this.” The older voice cuts in. “Like I said, you have been overruled. This is the quickest and cleanest cure for violent insanity in women.” You can’t help but start thrashing against the binds, and try to speak around the gag that keeps your mouth jerked open, but nothing other than a soft crying comes out. You’re not sure if it’s the panic or the drugs anymore. Multiple of the men round on the table, and you’re pressed down deeper into the leather covering. You don’t want to hurt anyone again. Promise. Promise. Your arms are held down, and your forehead’s pressed down too.

“She bit a guard’s finger clean off. We can’t possibly justify not treating such a danger.” None of this is my fault, you think— but they have yet to ask you. They have yet to listen. You suddenly have an overwhelming sense of loneliness, remembering flashes of faces you must have loved. People who must have loved you - though you can’t recall them. There’s an awful scraping noise as the metal tool table is rolled closer, and some man with a mask dips into your view.

You never meant to hurt anyone.

You’re bawling now. The adrenaline pumps through your veins as you stare up at the light, then swallow around the gag. There’s some more rummaging as the warm touch leaves your hand, and you sniffle. You squeeze your eyes closed tightly. A wet wipe is dragged over your eyes without warning, swiping your hot tears away, and finally your wiggling stops. There’s no use. The leather’s digging into your skin, and the sad moaning that you can bring out doesn’t convince any of these men that you’re sane. Maybe you’re not. Would you even know it? They clean your face with rough swipes, and then something even more restrictive is placed over your head. “Alright, she’s sanitized.” You try not to choke on your hiccups. “Surgery in session. Doctor...”

You just want to go home. You want to go home, please.

There’s a prick under your brow that takes you by surprise. It’s sharp, and though you can’t feel it sting like it would without any drugs— it’s still uncomfortable. The gear around your face keeps you from moving, keeping you stuck to the table, but your breathing instinctively gets more shallow, and rapid. Before you can say, or do, or think, a loud smack knocks your head back and heat spills all over your face. A push so hard against your skull that makes your body tense so tight your bones feel like splintering. The pressure’s unbearable— more than just painful, it’s a loud thumping, shaking your entire skull. You want them to stop.

Pain, p-p-pain rocks you upside down.

The pain ebbs in over your entire face —suffocating you from the inside, like a knife’s being wedged along the inside of your eye socket— scraping, and the blood’s everywhere. Streaming all over your face and swelling your eyes and cheeks and head. Your nose is full of it, forcing you to choke down the thick coppery heat. It grinds before it snaps, and the resonating clack of your bone giving in is loud enough to deafen everything else. It hurts. It hurts. You’re sleepy. Sick and in pain and wired too tight all at once, not able to think before another thump knocks you over the head and your head vibrates until it explodes. Or not.

Please stop.

it hur-ts. hurts.

It floods your ears with static, indescribable pressure, and worms deeper until everything’s black - out like a lightswitch.

…

He feels bad.

They’re jamming the metal rod deeper and shaking it hard enough to rock your head. Your poor, pretty face mangled and covered in a fresh, red-hot coating that will be his job to clean up later. Iwa’s breath is bated, and the coppery tang sticks to his lungs.

The halls echo with his rhythmic steps. Iwaizumi hates the smell of this place, treated air that circles around a thousand times before getting out. He hates the monotonous routine of it all— and he hates above all else that people are constantly on his back to leave you for some retarded nut that takes up all of his patience. But he is a Doctor. It’s expected of him, and if he gets fired before you get discharged - what was the point. He gets to your door, that familiar door with the pretty sticker of your name, and pushes in with the creaking of the metal. You’re still on the bed, barely looking up, and in some ways it hurts his heart a little.

He hadn’t really meant for it to go this way. All he ever wanted was to be near you. To have you close enough to touch and smell and hold, and for a moment after the judges’ ruling, he got his wish. With a procession that dumped you inside the barbed walls of the hospital, he’d volunteered to oversee you - and every other doctor was swamped enough not to blink twice. He’d worked so hard to get you right here— your pretty face cupped in his hands, getting to kiss you, long to come back to you each evening he’d lock up.

But then you had to bite one of the guards. He isn’t even mad about it either. The sweaty, mustached swine had been eyeing you from the second you came in, and you’d protected yourself so valiantly for such a sweet, little thing.

But it did throw a wrench into his works - and everything kept spiraling.

“Hello doll, I missed you.” He breathes out, then pulls you upright onto the bed when you face him. “Are you hurting? Are you feeling sick?” The bruising around both eyes has gone down entirely, but there’s still a ghost of color painting your eye sockets. Still, your eyes follow his voice, but you don’t respond. He wraps his arms around your shoulders. “No? That’s good. You’re looking much better today.” You’re so warm against him, and your scent floods him as he nuzzles into your cheek with a smile. It’s not like he’s happy with this outcome. He didn’t want this to happen.

“I’ve been thinking about you all week while you’ve been in the ICU. Missed you,” he places both hands on your face, making you smile just slightly, before kissing you on the mouth. You don’t really react, but you don’t push him away either. He kisses, and kisses, only taking brief moments between to look at you. “So much. Missed you so much. My sweet girl.” As you sit still and quiet, smiling, he can’t help but imagine taking you home already. You’ll be discharged soon enough, judging by your recovery— and when you do, all your family will have gone. Moved, or have passed away, or simply too old to be caretakers. And hey, he’s more than proven himself capable of caring.

“Do you want to kiss me more?” he asks as he leans down to you a little, capturing your attention again. “Yeah? You want to kiss more?”

“Kiss,” you parrot, and your pretty smile brightens. Fuck, he loves you. He’s not been able to stop since the day he first met you. Of course he’ll indulge you. Last time he allowed himself to let loose, things didn’t end so well. But that was before, and now he’s made very sure that no one will interrupt you both. His mouth meets yours as you sit still like a doll, nice and polite, and he opens your lips with his own, sliding his tongue into your mouth. You taste so fucking good. Maybe it’s his almost compulsive imagining leading up to this moment throughout the week, but there’s nothing better. You taste sweet and let him lead you back as he wraps your arm around him, pulling you closer.

Your arms hang limply around his waist, but no matter. It’s not like that’s stopped him before. He takes a quick scan of your fluttering lashes before you open your mouth, and he leans back in to kiss you again. Tongue sliding in to taste all of you until his entire body feels tight and his cock is so hard it’s starting to hurt against his pants. You simply oblige when he starts pushing you back onto the bed. “Back, back, back, that’s a good girl. Such a good, pretty girl for me.” His hands slide down your shoulders, over your chest as his breathing catches, and then settle at your hips to pull your butt closer to the edge. And you are pretty. It’s almost a bit unfair how good you look with your eyes half lidded and a barely there smile on your cheeks that makes him all warm inside.

“Do you know what I’m doing? What we’re gonna do?” he asks after a few seconds, and despite feeling horrible -he really does- his cock twitches when you shake your head a few times. He slides your flimsy blue gown up your thighs a bit, and moans at the sight of the smooth soft skin revealed to him. “That’s okay. I’ve got you.” Fuck, you make him feel like a timid virgin all over again, looking so damn erotic splayed out before him with no shame. He wonders if before, you’d have blushed. If you’d have whined and played coy, or if you’d have been so damn needy for his presence that you’d spread your legs for him even easier.

This is more than good enough though. He undoes his belt with slightly shaky hands, feeling the heat of your body on his skin, and then shoves a hand down his pants to take out his awfully throbbing cock. When he takes your thigh into his hand again and squeezes, you make a little moan that sounds almost like a purring cat- leaning into the warmth of his touch. His throat closes up, but he forces out a sentence as he leans in. “I’m just going to stick my hot cock inside you- you like that, don’t you? Fill you up, get nice and close?” Iwa’s mouth’s basically watering as he kisses you. He’s unable to help it. “Yeah, you like that. I know you do, pretty girl.”

He wraps a hand around the thick shaft and gives it a few slow pumps, biting back a moan. Then he sinks to his knees to hike your legs up over his shoulders and thumbs over your pussy a few times. Clear slick makes you all wet and sticky, drooling pussy waiting for his touch. He doesn’t make you wait long, because his tongue swipes out to lick up against you— sliding the wet muscle over your pussy and rubbing over the sensitive nub at the top. You let out a slight moan, and your legs twitch as he continues, licking and sucking and abusing your poor, needy cunt by rough fingers that trail around your hole before just barely slipping in to stretch you out. “Look so good, baby. You always look so good.”

“I knew,” he gets up from the floor to stand back between your legs, “that you’d still be a needy whore. Your pussy needs me even when you’re sleepy, so- fu-agh-” His cock brushes up against you as he lines up, and leans into you to grab a handful of your tits. “Can you say ‘thank you’?” You whine instead, and sort of wiggle in place, like you can’t articulate what you need. But he gets it by the way you grind yourself against the flushed, swollen head of his cock, and your mouth hangs open desperately. “Say ‘thank you for taking care of me, Doctor’,” he breathes out, while pushing into that tight, hot pussy that instantly clings to him.

You whimper, and he laces one of your hands with his by force, pulling you closer, deeper onto his cock as he slides in inch by inch. You feel so fucking good, hot enough to make his entire brain cloudy. Fuck. “I missed you so much, baby. You feel so fucking good- god.” You’re squeezing around him hard enough to make it hard to keep back the groans that spill out of him involuntarily. It’s almost like you’re doing it on purpose, but one glance at those teary, far-off eyes tells him more than you could, yourself. “Come on, say ‘thank you’. I know you can.” He winds his other hand around your soft throat and squeezes a little, until your back curls off the table and his cock bottoms out, nice and snug in the tight pouch of your tummy.

“Than’ you-” you slur back when he shakes your face a little, and though it’s a weak whimper, it’s enough to make him shudder.

“That’s a good pet- fuck. Agh-uh, my precious girl.” He pulls back and slides in again harder and deeper, speeding up the rhythm of the bed clanging against the wall. You know, he’d feel bad. He would— but your pussy’s sucking him in so deep, and your legs wrap around his thighs like you want to be even closer, like you’re still enjoying it. He leans in to kiss you again, and whispers your name like you’re cherished. You are. Each time he pulls back, more slick and wetness spills and makes the place you’re meeting into a mess, tits bouncing.

He hikes one of your legs up to your side instead, dangling over his arm to get closer, fuck you even deeper. And even you must feel the change, because you start moaning and wiggling despite yourself- as his cock fills you up again and again, bumping up against the soft heat of your walls. “You can still cum, can’t you?” His jaw clenches, and he reaches between your two sweaty bodies with messy circles over your puffy clit, unable to hold out for much longer. You’re just squeezing so fucking tight. “Cum, cum on my cock- gh-that’s it. That’s what you’re best at, aren’t you, baby~” God, you’re going to make him knock you up. Always clinging to him so fucking tight.

Your walls clench hard enough to make him see double, and before he’s even got the chance to pull out, hot ropes of cum fill you up until you’re sucking him dry.

#iwa x reader #iwa kinktober #iwaizumi smut #haikyuu smut #hq smut #hq iwa #haikyuu x reader #tw.dark content #tw.noncon #tw.blood #tw.gore #tw.manipulation #💫ch.iwaizumi

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iwaoiness · 5 months

Text

Oikawa: did u get home?

Iwaizumi: still on my way, sweetheart

Oikawa: sweetheart?

Iwaizumi: yeah, can i call u that?

Oikawa: u can call me whatever u want iwa-chan!! <3

Iwaizumi: okay

Iwaizumi: im home now, dunderhead

Oikawa: WHATEVER U WANT BUT BE CUTE U SUCKER

Iwaizumi: my sweet pretty dunderhead

#iwaoi #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu!!#oikawa x iwaizumi #soft and fluffy #iwaoi incorrect quotes #incorrect iwaoi quotes #haikyuu incorrect quotes #incorrect hq quotes #iwaoi texting #iwaoi headcanon

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nicka-nell · 2 months

Note

omg ur taking requests!

can you do some angst to fluff with Atsumu, Iwaizumi, Suna, Kuroo, Ushijima, and Sakusa (I’m sorry if they’re too many you can choose whoever you want to write about from these characters, I luv all of them soooo much)

Can you make it like really really Angsty in the start. Like the characters doing something they’ll regret a lot and then they spend a lot of efforts making up for it? Please make it fluffy in the end, I can’t handle sad endings 😭

Also please don’t include anything with infidelity or mentions of it. My boyfriend of 3 years cheated on me last month and I’m having such a hard time.

Thank you for considering my request. And there’s no pressure to accept, I don’t mind at all.

Hi! yes I am taking requests right now. 😇 First of all, I'm so sorry that you had such a negative experience. But tbh, you're better off this way. Nobody needs such an ass cheating on them! 😔😤 My ex did that too, with my ex-best friend btw. I also had a hard time but quickly felt better because I realised that it's a waste of time to cry over such a dick. I hope you don't lose hope in a healthy relationship based on trust. There really are good people out there and I hope you find someone who can appreciate you. Sending you a lot of hugs and kisses. 🤗💚❤️‍🩹

And for your request. I've written three stories for Tsumu, Iwa and Suna. Unfortunately they got a bit tooo long for my taste, so I only made these 3. I hope that's okay. I really had problems making it super angsty (urg, I need more practice for angsty stuff 😵‍💫). As you wished, I didn't include anything with cheating (even though I had a few ideas haha.) and I also added a trigger warning before each story. I think Iwa's and Suna's in particular might be a bit darker... so you can decide on your own if you want to continue reading it or not. Anyway, I hope you still like it, and thanks for your request. Stay healthy! 🥰💚

Regretting their actions

Pairing: Atsumu x, Iwaizumi x, Suna x reader

Warning: angst to fluff, break-up (Atsumu, Suna), mention of abuse/anger issues, mention of blood (Iwaizumi), mention of abortion, mention of drugs/pills (Suna)

Part 1 | Part 2 (End)

tw: mention of break-up

You met Atsumu when he came to his brother’s onigiri store for the housewarming.

The two of you got along well quickly. And it wasn’t long before he kissed you at a party, looked at you with his cheeky grin and said, “Tastes better than a victory.”

More things happened that night. Not just simple kisses and when you woke up next to him in bed, he asked you, still sleepy: “You’re my girlfriend now, aren’t you?”

You’ve been together for several years now and were thinking about moving in together soon when Atsumu’s career suddenly took off. He was traveling abroad more often and had less time for you or looking for an apartment.

And then it happened…

You scroll through the apartment search app for something suitable for the two of you, lying on the bed while missing him terribly. You close the app to go to your messenger, only to realize that you were the one who last texted Atsumu... two days ago… Two blue check marks indicate that he has read your messages but has not replied. Your fingers hover over the keypad of your phone and you think about writing to him. Maybe he read your message during training and didn’t have time to reply. Maybe he just forgot about it afterwards... maybe...

“Hey Tsumu... I know you’re busy but, I hope you’re doing well. Love you.” you type into your phone and send the message with a strange feeling in your stomach. It doesn’t take long before you see under his name that he is online. The gray check marks next to your message turn blue, but instead of replying, you see that he went offline again. You swallow a big lump down your throat, your heart feels heavy. Maybe he can’t answer you right now... you try to convince yourself again.

Several hours pass as you sink your head into your pillow and try to stifle your tears. Atsumu’s sports t-shirt is in your arms, which he had given you before his trip abroad. Time passes and suddenly you hear the ringtone of your phone as a message arrives. Your heart hits loud against your chest as you reach for your phone and see your boyfriend’s name. But your joy quickly disappears, the lump in your throat gets bigger and you can’t breathe.

>> Hey... listen, I think it’s better if we end the relationship… break up. I don’t know, but I just don’t have time for it. I’ll see you around. <<

It feels like a slap in the face. As if this is a poor joke. You want to write to him, ask him what this is all about, but your tears blur your vision. The only thing you send is a “really?” but the message is no longer read. It remains on one gray check mark.

Two days go by and you still think it was all a bad joke, but every time you read his message, you feel like throwing up. Has he really dumped the whole relationship? By a shitty text message? You open your Instagram account and enter his name almost as if on autopilot.

Another slap in the face as your tears run down your cheeks again. His bio no longer says “Best setter and proud boyfriend” but simply “Setter MSBY Black Jackal”. All the pictures he had with you on his account have been deleted. Instead, you can only see advertising photos or private photos of him. The last eight pictures are of him, Hinata and Bokuto dancing and having fun with fans in different bars. Atsumu grins at the camera as if he doesn’t care about you at all. As if your relationship meant nothing to him.

You text him some more times, leave him voicemails because he never answers your calls. But after a few days, you let it go. It only frustrates you even more to see how little this relationship actually meant to him. For days, you cry yourself to sleep, what doesn’t go unnoticed by Osamu. After all, he sees you three times a week when you help him out in his store. When you tell him what has happened, he is also speechless, because Atsumu has really pissed him off with all his raving about you. So why would he break-up with you out of the blue? Osamu can’t see you as devastated as a heap of misery. So he also tries to find out the reason for the break-up between you and his silly brother. But when he calls him, Atsumu only faces him coldly on the phone. “Did she tell you to ask me? Leave it okay? I think I just realized that I don’t want a relationship.”

Two months go by and somehow you still can’t believe that your relationship just fell apart. Osamu tries to distract you somehow, but it doesn’t help because he reminds you too much of your idiot ex-boyfriend.

Nevertheless, you are grateful to Osamu for swapping your shift with his coworker’s shift so that you can open the store with him in the morning. That way, you avoid running into Atsumu, who is more likely to be in the restaurant in the evening as soon as he returns from his stay abroad. You’re not ready to face him at the moment.

Just as you’re about to finish work, you remember that you wanted to show Osamu a video on your phone. “Look, the new trailer for the second season of this soccer series is out. Shall we watch the first episode together on Saturday after work?” you ask Osamu as he approaches you and looks over your shoulder. He rests his hand on the counter next to you, his chest almost touching your back, but he keeps his distance from you respectfully. You are both focused on the trailer, not hearing the doorbell from the store.

Atsumu is tired. The flight was delayed, and he hasn’t been able to sleep properly for weeks. How could he sleep well with all the partying and Hinata as his roommate, who spent the night in the hotel calling his friends from Karasuno. At least that’s what he tells himself… that this is the reason for his sleepless nights. But this thought vanishes when he steps into his brother’s store hungry, actually only wanting to eat a few onigiris and then go home. Into his apartment. His empty, dreary apartment. But as he walks through the door of the store, it feels as if someone has hit his chest with full force, knocking the air out of him.

He sees Osamu leaning towards you with a sense of familiarity. What’s going on there? And why does it bother him so much that you giggle and look at Osamu, who returns your gaze with a nod and a smile before turning to the door? His brother winces when he sees Atsumu. As you turn around as well, your smile disappears.

You look at Atsumu as if you’ve just seen a corpse, before packing your bag and saying goodbye to Osamu with a “See you tomorrow.”, only to walk past Atsumu with quick steps. You don’t even give him a glance, knowing that if you locked eyes with him, your tears would run. You would want to ask him questions upon questions. Why did you break up with me? Why am I not enough for you? Why did you lie to me for so long? Why...

As you walk through the door, you accidentally bump into him. This nudge, which was actually rather gentle, felt so painful. Why does it bother Atsumu to see you standing so close to his brother? Why does it hurt him that you stared at him with those empty eyes, as if he were a stranger? No. Worse, as if he were someone who had hurt you. Why does he have the feeling that he couldn’t make a sound if he opened his mouth now? The answer is simple, and even Atsumu seems to understand it by now as he looks from the now closed door over to Osamu, who stares at him with an indifferent expression crossing his arms in front of his chest. “So this is what someone who has realized that he doesn’t want a relationship looks like? Ya look like shit.”

Oh, how Atsumu would love to punch Osamu in the face. “Why are ya touchin’ my girl?” is bitter on his tongue, but he has no right to say it out loud. After all, he was the one who turned you down. The blonde Miya suddenly realizes how incredibly stupid his action was.

Back then, Atsumu had not expected to be traveling abroad so often. At first, it was only temporary stays. Nothing that would damage a relationship.

But the last few times in particular, he was sometimes away for several months. You kept telling him on the phone that everything was okay, but every time he called Osamu, he said that your eyes were sometimes red when you came to work and that you looked tired and sad.

Atsumu knew he was the reason. That you’d probably be better off without him. After all, you’re a great woman, someone who would find a new partner quickly.

You didn’t deserve to be sad all the time when he was gone. You should be happy. After all, a smile suits you so much better than a sad expression.

Atsumu would concentrate on his career. It would be difficult for him at first, but he would manage without you. He had to… for your sake.

So his mind was made up when he read your unanswered, concerned messages. If he texts you now to say that it’s over, being an ass to you, you’ll be able to forget him quickly… That was what he thought.

But it wasn’t that easy. Your puzzled messages, your crying voice on his voicemail, broke his heart. Yet he tried to cover it all up with parties and his dear fans. He convinced himself that he was fine. Only to arrive home, see you and realize what an idiot he was, how much he missed you.

And now it’s Atsumu who reaches for his phone and texts you message after message.

Atsumu 8:02 PM: Hey babe, no.. hey Y/n. I know I have no right to text you. But please… let’s talk. I fucked up. Damn, I fucked up so hard that I don’t even know how to start… shit…

Atsumu 8:12 PM: Please… please answer your phone, babe…

Atsumu 8:44 PM: I know I’ve fucked up. I know I hurt and disappointed you. Fuck, I know I was an ass. Yk, I thought I was doing the right thing.

Atsumu 9:34 PM: Fuck… please answer me… I still… damnit.

That was the last message you received from Atsumu before you put your phone away and tried to forget him. Why is he doing this to you? Why is he stirring up your feelings again?

But Atsumu doesn’t think about stopping now. He runs to your house, to the apartment building and rings your doorbell. Once, twice, he rings so often that you can’t ignore it. You are about to tell him to leave through the loudspeaker system, but he interrupts you.

“Fuck baby, please open the door. I’m… I still love ya, okay? I always loved ya. I - shit, can ya even hear me? Fuck…” he curses agitatedly and presses the bell next to your nameplate again several times.

But instead of letting him in, you go down to the entrance of the apartment building and open the door with an expression on your face that Atsumu has never seen before. What is it? Anger, sadness, despair? Everything somehow.

“Say... are you kidding me? Do you think that’s funny?” you ask him, bewildered, still standing in the open doorway. Of course, you wouldn’t just believe him. Atsumu could have guessed. Your reaction was completely understandable. But he has to do something to show you that he’s serious.

“No, no, I don’t. I’m dead serious. Please let me explain,” he says, and starts to tell you that he thought a break-up would be best for you because he’s not good enough for you. Since you were obviously so sad about him leaving so often and he didn’t want to be the reason. He tells you that he thought he could get over you, but that he had to realize that you are the most important thing to him. Something… someone he doesn’t want to lose. With shaky hands and a still agitated voice, Atsumu takes out his phone.

“I wanted ya to hate me so that it would be easier for ya. But believe me, I... I couldn’t forget ya. Look, you’re still my wallpaper. All the photos of the two of us are still on my phone, all the memories-“ he is about to unlock his screen when his phone falls out of his hand and drops to the floor. Atsumu seems to be completely overwhelmed right now, as if he doesn’t know what to do. Should he bend down, pick up the phone, should he keep talking to you or hug you? He doesn’t know.

”Baby, please, please, I’ll do anything. Please gimme a chance. I’ll talk to my agent about not takin’ so many jobs abroad. I will be with ya more often. Always write to ya and call ya in the evening when I’m not at home. Let’s look for an apartment so we can move in together. Please, please, I would do anything. Please believe me that I love ya. Please..." he begs in a voice that becomes more and more brittle with every word. His eyes are full of emotion and his hands, which have unconsciously reached for yours, are trembling terribly.

“Two months... two months you ignored me, treated me like a piece of trash.” You say in a low voice as you search for eye contact. Atsumu has never felt so scared. Only now does he realize that the love of his life is standing in front of him, and that this might be the last time he’ll see her again, the last time he’ll touch her skin. But then again… Atsumu was an ass, so why should you forgive him? No, he can’t think like that. After all, you loved him. And if you love him as much as he loves you, then maybe there’s still hope.

“I know, and I know I can never make it up to ya. I know it’s not done with an ‘I’m sorry’. I’m the dumbest, most idiotic ex-boyfriend you’ve ever had. But... I’m stubborn too. And if that means chasin’ after ya for 10 years, drivin’ to yer apartment every day to ring the doorbell and tell ya I still love ya, wishin’ ya a good night every day, nice dreams and telling ya how important you are to me... I’ll do it. Every damn day, if it means there’s still a little hope for us.” He answers you hoarsely, keeping eye contact, hoping that you see how honest his words are.

You sigh, bend down, and pick up his phone before handing it to him. Atsumu doesn’t know what to do with all this. His face grimaces as if he’s expecting the worst. “Then... you shouldn’t lose your phone... if you want to write to me every day,” you answer him, a weak smile on your lips. Atsumu’s sorrowful expression suddenly changes and you see him looking at you with hope.

“Does that mean ya...” the blonde Miya can no longer contain his emotions as he leaps forward and pulls you into his arms. His embrace is so tight that you can barely breathe, as if he’s afraid you’ll slip out of his hands. Firm, but quivering. His whole body is shaking and you’re sure you’ve just felt something wet on your skin. Tears? Is Atsumu crying? “I promise to be a pain in yer ass every day. To text ya, to call ya, to be there for ya. Even in yer sleep. Okay? I love ya... I love ya so much...”

tw: abuse, anger issues, mention of blood

You’ve been with Iwaizumi since your school days. Back then, as a little flirt at school, Oikawa and Matsukawa mainly teased Iwaizumi for having a crush on you.

But in the end, many were jealous of the perfect couple who waltzed together on the dance floor at the prom with loving looks on their faces.

You were inseparable. Even Iwaizumi’s stay in America for his university didn’t affect your relationship. So it was no wonder that you got married after his return and were the perfect happy couple.

At least for the first few years.

The stress of being a coach for the Japanese national team is weighing on Iwaizumi’s mind. He normally handles stressful situations well, but he is under pressure.

If the team fails to perform in the next few games, he will lose many sponsors and possibly even his job.

Iwaizumi is constantly on edge and you feel like you have to walk on eggshells around him so you don’t provoke him.

More often, he has sudden temper tantrums, shouting at you about things that aren’t worth mentioning. “Damn it, I told you I need this one shirt for today. Why isn’t it clean?”

And once, when you stumbled with your words and asked him whether it might not be better to take a break as a coach, he was so angry that he almost hit you. But he managed to hold back and just sighed before going out for a beer in a nearby bar.

You don’t want to admit it to yourself, but right now, you’re really scared of your own husband.

Today was another training match between the Japanese national team and the Indonesian team. The team’s performance was better, but nowhere near good enough to shine. You watched the game on TV and run through your imaginary list in your head already, of potential trigger points for Iwaizumi. You don’t want him to get upset. The laundry is done; the house is clean; the food is also ready and in the fridge. Did you take out the trash? You chew nervously on your lower lip as you walk to the kitchen and let out a relieved sigh. That’s done too.

You are just closing the lid of the garbage can when you hear the key in the lock of your front door and Iwaizumi comes home with a surprisingly normal, “I’m home, my love, smells good in here”. Your shoulders relax immediately, a smile is back on your lips as you walk cheerfully into the hallway to greet Iwaizumi.

“Hello darling! How was your day?” Iwaizumi hugs you and leans down so you can kiss his cheek. “Let me eat something first. My day has been really exhausting,” he sighs, watching you nod and turn around to warm up the food for him. Your husband hangs up his jacket, puts down his bag and is about to turn around to follow you when he stumbles against a nearby vase that you had placed as a decoration for the fall changeover. The vase swings, loses its balance and falls to the floor in pieces.

“Shit!” You hear Iwaizumi curse and immediately run to him, anxiously hoping that nothing has happened to him. But luckily, he is unharmed. “Wait, I’ll clean up the broken pieces, you eat-“ you’re about to say, but Iwaizumi interrupts you loudly. “Always this stupid bullshit you put up. Shit, I could have hurt myself. If I miss now, that’s it for my career!” he shouts and stomps past you. You turn around hastily and apologize. “That wasn’t my intention, really,” you say, before realizing that it was a mistake to talk back. Iwaizumi turns around, his eyes ferocious and angry like a wild animal as he takes a step towards you. Your heart is beating restlessly and you are suddenly afraid.

“Not your intention? Admit it, you’d be happy if I got rid of the job!” he shouts, noticing how you start to tremble and shake your head. But Iwaizumi doesn’t seem to be in his right mind as he takes another step towards you. “Go clean up the mess! Make yourself useful!” he says through gritted teeth as he looks at your anxious and puzzled face. You know you should move, but your body doesn’t seem to listen, too scared to move a finger. And then it happens.

Iwaizumi grabs you by the hair and pulls you towards him. You cry out, weeping bitterly as you hear his voice again. “Are you deaf?! Get going!” he shouts, before pushing you away with more force than necessary. You lose your balance, stumble over your own feet as you fall and hit your head on the edge of the stairs in the hallway next to the broken vase. Your head hurts terribly, something warm flows down your face, sticking to your hair and making your vision suddenly completely different. It gets smaller and smaller before everything goes black in front of your eyes and the sounds around you stop completely.

Iwaizumi is abruptly perfectly sober and only now understands what has just happened. What he has just done to you, the woman he loves more than anything.

His eyes are big as he stares at his hands, which start to tremble in front of him.

Panic spreads through him as he looks at you. At your motionless body, at all the blood under your head.

He doesn’t know how he did it. His memories are hazy, but he can still remember trying to wake you up, in vain.

He had taken off his shirt, pressed it on your head injury to stop the bleeding and somehow managed to call an ambulance. Iwaizumi can’t remember anything else, just the one question from the paramedic who put you on the ambulance stretcher and took you to the hospital. Since Iwaizumi was your husband, he was allowed to drive with you.

“How did this happen?” the paramedic asked, as Iwaizumi answered quietly, “I don’t know... I really don’t know.”

It’s now been some hours after the accident and your head had been stitched up. Thank God it wasn’t as bad as it looked at first.

You’re still in the recovery room, Iwaizumi next to your bed on a chair, his hands folded in his lap as he hangs his head in bewilderment, looking at his wedding ring shining on his ring finger.

What happened? What has become of him? He still can’t believe what he has done.

He looks at his hands again, opens them, starts to tremble, clenches them into fists and realises how he lets out a frustrated sigh, which he had been holding back, as warm tears roll down his cheeks, soaking the fabric of his trousers.

In his mind, there’s only your shaking body, that frightened look, your screaming, and then this unbearable silence.

When you open your eyes, your head throbs a little and you have to squint through the bright, clinical light. “Where... where am I?” you say quietly, looking around the room and noticing that you’re lying in a hospital room. Next to your bed is none other than Iwaizumi. But he looks different. Broken… He shrinks at your words and looks up at you. You see his red eyes and how he hesitates whether it’s okay to take your hand in his. Iwaizumi gets up from his chair, wants to close the distance to your bed but his legs collapse and he falls to his knees when he suddenly starts to... cry?

“Haji- me...” you say, still feeling exhausted. “I’m... god I...” Iwaizumi doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to look you in the eye. He takes a deep breath, regains his courage before peering at you. Carefully, he grasps your hand, checking if you are afraid, but you don’t seem to pull it away. Maybe because you’re still too tired. Awkwardly, he strokes the back of your hand before resting his forehead on it and closing his eyes briefly.

“I’m a terrible husband. I’ve done everything I shouldn’t have done. Instead of carrying you on my hands, bringing a smile to your face and protecting you from everything that would harm you, I’ve done the exact opposite. Instead of being happy to see me, you’re just scared of me, aren’t you?” he says in a shaky voice and looks up at you again. You are calm. Just stare at him with a hurt look.

“I.... I can understand if you want a divorce. If you don’t want to be with a monster like me anymore. I really can’t even blame you. But... please let me tell you one thing. When I saw you lying on the floor like that, the world collapsed inside me. I was afraid of losing the most important thing in my life. And the most important thing is not my job, no, it’s you. And I’m ashamed that I’ve forgotten that. I am disgusted with myself and I know that is no excuse. What I have done is unforgivable. But please... if there is still a bit of hope, then I will try to do everything I can to be the man you fell in love with again. I want to be your Haji-bear again. Your place of peace, and your favorite person. I will go to anger issues therapy, behavioral therapy. If it’s better for our relationship, I’ll step down as a coach and see if I can find a job as a volleyball coach at a school. No matter what, I would do anything.” Your hand becomes wet as his tears land on it. His words move something inside you. You want to believe him, you don’t want the relationship to end either, but everything that has happened so far will not pass by without damage.

“I need time, Hajime... If you really mean it, please grant me the time...” you answer him and notice how your words seem to tear him apart. But at the same time he seems to want to make the best of the situation. He lets go of your hand and stands up just to sit back down on the chair next to your bed, looking at you determinedly, his eyes still red and swollen. “As much time as you need. If it means we still have a chance...”

A few months pass. Iwaizumi has passed on the house to you and moved into his parents’ house to give you the space you need. He goes to therapy three times a week and tells you about his progress. He is still coaching the national team, but his assistant coach is taking a lot of the work off his hands and the volleyball team seems to be playing better again.

Just like when you were at school, you’ll find a letter in your letterbox once a week. Back then, Iwaizumi always told you a bit about his week and wrote it down because, funnily enough, he was too shy to talk to you in person. Only that in his current letters he writes that he misses you, but hopes that you are doing well at the moment.

He meets you in public places, goes out with you, so that you gradually feel more comfortable with him again, that you can see his progress in therapy and don’t just think it’s empty words.

Six months have passed since the incident. You are standing in the bedroom, changing the sheets, when Iwaizumi comes through the front door of the house. “My love, I’m home,” you hear Iwaizumi’s calm voice. Coming home from his therapy session, he hangs up his jacket in the hallway as your voice lets him know where you are.

Iwaizumi puts the flowers he bought for you on the kitchen table before he sneaks into the bedroom and sees you trying to unfold the sheets to put them on the blankets. With silent steps, he reaches around your waist to throw you onto the bed with him, wrapped in the covers that were in your hands earlier. Screaming, you laugh in unison with his chuckle as you look into each other’s eyes. “Hajime! Don’t scare me like that.” you laugh softly, while his hand gently tucks your hair behind your ear. Iwaizumi looks at your forehead, at the small scar that is left from your injury, before leaning forward and giving you a kiss on that spot.

“I’m sorry, but that was just so tempting,” he says, closing his eyes as he pulls you closer and just relaxes in bed with you. He strokes your back and kisses your forehead once more. “Hajime... what’s going on? Why are you so clingy suddenly?” you laugh, but Iwaizumi doesn’t join in the laughter, instead answering you seriously.

“Today, six months ago, I almost lost you. I’m just grateful that nothing happened to you. Thankful that you gave me another chance, even though I showed my worst side.” You can’t think of the right words to answer him, so you just smile, snuggle closer to him, and close your eyes. Safe in his arms, with his pulsating heart at your ear, you fall asleep.

tw: mention of abortion, mention of drugs/pills (without consent)

Suna and you were just friends for a long time. Even if the others saw you more like a couple.

You were the only one Suna didn’t mind when you sat next to him and pulled out one of his earphones to listen to music with him.

You always had the same route to school and if one of you came to school alone, you knew immediately that the other one must be sick.

With graduation, you mentioned that you might want to study abroad. That time, Suna had a weird feeling in his stomach for the first time. As if he was afraid of losing you.

That was the day he realised that he felt more for you than just friendship.

The same evening, he asked you to come over and watch a movie when he yawned in a very clichéd way to put his arm over your shoulder and pull you closer to him. He didn’t know why he was so nervous, but he just was.

A number of things went through his mind. What if you don’t feel the same way about him as he does about you? Will you still want to study abroad? Would you end your friendship with him if you didn’t feel the same way?

He tried to block out the questions and then, with his usual calmness, asked you if you could imagine anything more than a friendship. Luckily for him, you said yes.

From that moment on, everything was perfect. You had created your own little world over several years. You studied, and luckily not abroad. Suna was successful in volleyball, so you were both able to buy an apartment together quickly.

Just the two of you. Your friends were there from time to time, but in the evenings you were always alone at home, arm in arm, in the quiet flat without any noise or other people to disturb you.

Until one morning where you look at the little piece of plastic in the bathroom, stunned, when the two red stripes tell you that you are pregnant.

You hadn’t spoken to Suna about having children yet, but you’ve been together for so long now and everything is going well that you assume he would be just as happy as you are.

You thought…

When Suna comes home, you’ve already prepared a little surprise. There are a pair of baby shoes on the table in the living room, the pregnancy test in front of them and a little balloon with “Best Dad” written on it. You can’t help smiling as you see Suna walk into the room when you call out “surprise”, looking a little shy in his direction. But Suna’s reaction differed from what you expected.

Almost disgusted, he looks in your direction. “This better be one of those stupid TikTok pranks, right?” he says, and your smile disappears abruptly. Your stomach turns and you feel sick. And not because of the pregnancy. You stand there irritated, only able to utter a quiet “No... it’s not a joke”, confused by his negative reaction. “No? What week are you in? Tell me you can still have an abortion...” he says, annoyed, as he walks towards the table to see if there is any information about the week of pregnancy on the pregnancy test.

“What?” you say in bewilderment, still looking at Suna, who throws the test on the table in frustration before starting to massage his temples. “We’ll go to the gynecologist tomorrow, okay? Get rid of it. A child means responsibility. You have to look after this thing all the time, you’re no longer flexible and it’s noisy too... I just don’t want that.”

His words feel like a thousand stabs. Never have you seen Suna act like this before. You anticipated that he might be a bit taken by surprise and perhaps not be able to deal with the situation at first, but Suna seems to have a very clear opinion on the subject. He doesn’t even seem to be willing to talk. But abort a child? Let Suna’s and your baby die just like that? You can’t do that. You don’t want that.

The two of argue. Suna’s look gets progressively angrier. Yours sadder until he decides to leave the house with a “Do what you want, maybe it’ll die anyway”. Now you’re home alone with his painful words. You stand rooted to the spot in the room for several more minutes until the strength in your legs finally gives way and you slump to the floor, crying bitterly. The night, you spend alone in your bed, without Suna. He doesn’t answer his phone and doesn’t reply to your messages. You don’t hear from him the next day either, and he hasn’t come home. Thank God you get a message from Osamu, who texts you that Suna is with him and that you have nothing to worry about. But how are you supposed to stay at home without worrying if your boyfriend doesn’t get in touch with you and you’ve been arguing for days? You are scared. Afraid for the baby, afraid for the relationship and everything you two have built up.

Another day passes. You lie in bed, tired and lacking in energy. Nevertheless, you pull yourself together and get up, go to the bathroom to get ready for the day and don’t notice when the front door opens and Suna walks in. “Baby doll, I’m at home... and... I’m sorry...” you hear Suna’s voice and walk out of the bathroom. Even though you had a fight, you are still happy to see the man you love so much again. With a somewhat sad smile, he stands there, a bouquet of flowers in his hand as he approaches you.

“I’m really sorry. I behaved like an ass. You took me by surprise with the news and somehow... I don’t know. What do you say you sit down now? I’ll make us a drink and we can talk about all this. About the baby, and what happens next?” You can hardly believe his words. What has Osamu done in the last few days to make Suna suddenly do a full turnaround and be willing to talk to you openly, without shouting about becoming a parent? You make a mental note to thank Osamu later, before nodding with a smile and sitting down on the sofa in the living room.

But what you don’t know is that Suna went to a friend, a doctor, who gave him two pills before he came home. Pills for an induction of abortion. You have to take one now and the other two to three days later.

Suna knows that you wouldn’t take these pills voluntarily.

So he makes sure that you are indeed sitting in the living room before he takes out a small bag containing a pill, puts it in the grinder and turns it into a fine powder before mixing it into your iced tea.

He takes a deep breath, putting his smile back on as he walks towards you in the living room, where you are already waiting for him with happy eyes.

Without saying much, he hands you the glass, sits down next to you and watches you.

“I know it’s all so sudden and I could have said it differently. I really took you completely by surprise with the news,” you say quietly, looking at the iced tea in your hand, unaware that an abortion pill is floating there.

Suna listens attentively as you talk about how you first had to understand what a pregnancy means, but that your overwhelm quickly turned into joy because you are looking forward to holding a mini version of the two of you in your arms in less than 9 months. You talk about all the beautiful things that are going through your head, while Suna continues to listen to you, his eyes constantly focus on the tea in your hands and you.

He keeps looking at you as you raise the glass and press it to your lips, ready to drink the poison cocktail, when he realizes what he was doing. What he’s trying to do here.

Panic strikes him. His green eyes widen as he literally knocks the cup out of your hand. It falls to the floor with a loud thud. “Don’t drink that!” he says in an unsteady voice and looks at you in horror.

But you don’t understand anything, only shake your head.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I... I think I just made the worst mistake of my life,” Suna says, looking back from you to the broken cup. You don’t understand what’s going on and tilt your head, asking him if everything is all right. But when Suna continues talking and tells you what was in your tea, your world collapses. You are shocked that your own boyfriend wanted to do this to you. “I was overwhelmed. I... I know that’s no excuse. But when I heard you talking, I realized that -“ Suna wanted to continue, but your voice cut him off, your words silenced him.

“Let’s break up,” you say, and unlike before, unlike when you argued a week ago, your voice is determined now, your eyes full of pain and betrayal. Those green eyes that used to mesmerize you are now looking at you desperately. “What?” Suna whispers softly, followed by a “No, wait”. But you interrupt him again.

“You just wanted to give me some drugs without my consent so I’d lose the baby?! No, Rintarou… I’m breaking up with you. That... no, I can’t do that.” Abruptly, you get up from the sofa, ignoring the hand that tries to grab you before quickly slipping into a jacket and a pair of shoes just to leave the apartment. Suna wants to run after you, but his legs won’t move. His mind and heart are screaming to run after you, to stop you and tell you he’s sorry, but his body just won’t obey him. When he finally manages to get up, you’re already gone.

Still wearing his slippers and without putting on a jacket, he eventually runs out to check out all the places you love, all your friends, to see if he can find you somewhere. But no matter where he looks, he can’t find you. You don’t reply to messages or phone calls. The mechanical voice of your voice mail greets him directly. “Shit, shit, shit!” he yells as he stands in the park where you two had your first official date. The surrounding people look at him. Some with an irritated look, some as if they were pitying him.

Without really knowing where to go, your legs automatically led you to the bus that goes to Kita’s home.

Kita was one of your best friends back then. And you knew that if you went to Kita and told him not to tell Suna that you were there, he wouldn’t tell his friend either. And that’s exactly what Kita did.

You were in Kita’s guest room when you heard Suna’s voice in the hallway.

He sounded shattered, broken, as he begged Kita to tell him where you were.

This went on for several weeks, until one evening Suna rang the doorbell again, trying to talk to Kita in a voice you had never heard before.

His voice was so thin, so fragile, as if a heap of misery was speaking out of him.

Kita tells him once again that he doesn’t know where you are when you hesitantly open the door, thinking about going downstairs and listening to what Suna has to say. But for now, you just listen to the conversation.

“Please, Shinsuke, I know you know her location. Please, just give her this. Please...” Kita sighs, followed by a soft “ok...” before the front door closes. Your best friend’s footsteps creak beneath the floor as he walks up the stairs, looks at you a little twisted and hands you a large package.

You know that you demand a lot from Kita. It’s not easy for him to lie to his friend either. Eventually you have to talk to Suna.

Alone in your guest room, you spend almost half an hour looking at the unopened package at the other end of the bed until you finally decide to open it. When you see what’s inside, surprise catches you. Multiple emotions flow through your body without you even noticing how your eyes suddenly turn glassy. Small letters and several items are in the box. You take out the letter that is on top of all the other items.

“My love, I don’t even know where to start. I can’t apologize for what I did. Nevertheless, I want to tell you that I’m sorry. I was confused and scared. Our relationship has always been perfect so far and I thought it was great that it was just the two of us and that no one else disturbed our privacy. I was afraid that when we had a child, we would argue, have no more time for each other, and grow apart. I was selfish and didn’t think about how you would feel. I wasn’t thinking about our baby. The thought that we were both going to be parents hadn’t crossed my mind at all. But every time I walked past those little shoes you had placed in the living room, I couldn’t think of anything else but seeing our child standing in them. How it tries to move around in it, sometimes falls down because it loses its balance and seeks shelter with its beloved mom. I regret every second of what I’ve done, every word I’ve said. Hurting you was the last thing I wanted to do, and yet I did it. I am sorry. I am so terribly sorry.

I did some research. Did you know that it is currently very difficult to find midwives? You should probably start looking very early on. My team colleague gave me the number of the midwife he and his wife had at the birth of their two children. I also have three other numbers. You might want to give them a call. There are also birth preparation classes in our town. I have also put a brochure in the package for you. You don’t necessarily have to go there with your partner. With me… So... if you want, you could also go there with Kita, even if I would be happy if we both did it together. But I can understand if you don’t want to.

Are you eating enough? You should pay particular attention to your diet during pregnancy. A lot of women suffer from a vitamin deficiency during pregnancy. But you have probably already discussed this with your gynecologist. Anyway, I’ve written down a few recipes for you that are rich in vitamins. I admit that Osamu helped me a little with this. Oh, and on the back are some things you shouldn’t eat during pregnancy. Raw eggs and products containing them such as ice cream, mayonnaise and so on... you should not eat them, because the risk of salmonella infection is high. Peanuts can contain aflatoxins, which can also harm the fetus... but as I said, I’ve put together a list for you. In case you didn’t already know all this already. There are a few other things in the box. Maybe you’d like to take a look.

I hope you are doing well. I hope the baby is doing well too. Have you thought of a name yet? Do you know whether it will be a boy or a girl? I’m sure there’s already a little bump on your belly. I... would really like to be with you right now. Would love to hold you in my arms and stroke your tummy. I know I made a mistake that can never be fixed. But if you’re willing, if that’s what you want, I’d really like to be by your side again. And if not as your boyfriend, then as the father of our baby. I would like to do couples’ therapy with you so that we can find our way back to each other… So that you can trust me again. Because in all of this, I was the problem and never you. But only if you want it too, of course. I know it may be hard to believe, but I love you. So much that a life without you scares me. I am sorry…”

You’re crying bitterly by now as your tears blur the ink on the letter before you put it aside and look in the box. Next to a small onesie for babies, there is a note with the telephone numbers of midwives, a small book with recipes, the brochure he had mentioned and another box containing photos and memories. Pictures that Suna had always secretly taken of you at times when he thought you looked extra pretty. You always found the photos embarrassing, but for him they were beautiful to look at. Because they were moments when you were just being you, not smiling for the camera or doing anything else to disguise yourself.

There was also a necklace with shells on it in the box. You made it for Suna when you were on vacation in Croatia. It turned out incredibly ugly, yet Suna wore it proudly during the whole vacation. You’re touched that he still has this ugly necklace. Little notes that you wrote to each other at school are also in there. So many more memories from the past. Where had Suna hidden this little box in your apartment so that you never noticed it?

You hastily get up, open the door and run down to the hallway as Kita comes out of the living room and looks at you questioningly. “Is everything all right? Do you need to see a doctor?” He asks concerned, but you just shake your head, wanting nothing more than to see Suna, talk to him again. He asks you if you are absolutely sure, but your determined nod is enough for an answer. So he grabs his jacket and car keys, driving you straight to your ex boyfriend, to your apartment. He doesn’t want you to take the bus in your current state.

Suna is sitting in the living room. In front of him on the coffee table are various reports on pregnancy, parenting and more. His head is leaning on his hands as he takes a deep breath. Have you opened his package yet? He wonders, unable to think clearly, when he hears the key in the door lock and runs into the hallway as if stung by a tarantula. His eyes are wide as he looks at you, standing rooted to the spot in the doorway, not knowing how to react.

“Shinsuke... Drove me here...” you say. “I opened your package.” You continue, watching Suna swallow hard, still not moving an inch from the doorframe. “How are you, the baby?” he asks quietly, almost absent-mindedly, as if he can’t believe you’re really standing in front of him. “Good... can... can we talk?” you ask and watch him nod, having trouble sorting out his feelings. You take a step towards him, clearly seeing the dark circles, the red eyes, the slightly thinner face, as if he has lost weight. And on closer look, you can see his whole body trembling.

“Is everything you wrote in your letter true?” you ask him, trying to keep your voice as calm as possible, even though you’re at your wits’ end. “Yes, yes all of it. I’m sorry for everything... I want nothing more than to see you happy. To see our baby happy. And if you want another partner by your side to be happy, if you don’t want me in your life, then I will accept that.” Suna whispers, knowing that if he were to speak even a little louder, his voice would fail and he would cry. You take another step towards him. “What if I want you? Want to give it another try?” You have barely spoken your sentence before you hear a bitter shuffle from Suna, which he seems to have been suppressing the whole time. His shaky hands carefully reach for your face before he presses his forehead against yours and says softly, “I would wish for nothing more than that.”

Although you hesitate for a second, you finally put your hands around his back and stand with him in the doorway for a while. Neither of you says a word. Both of you let your tears run until Suna releases you at some point and gives you a kiss on the forehead. “You shouldn’t stand for so long. You’d better get some rest,” he says in a somewhat steady voice before helping you out of your jacket and leading you into the bedroom, where he pushes the sheets aside so you can lie down.

“Rin, but I’m not tired at all...” you say, even though you are exhausted, but Suna lies down right next to you, pulling you close while his free hand moves to your stomach. “I know... But... let’s just lie here like this for a moment, regain our strength before we talk... Talk about everything, our future, how I can make it up to you, our little baby… Agree, baby doll?” He whispers tiredly. Yet you also notice how all the crying is slowly making you a little tired. “Agree, Rin.” you smile weakly, snuggling closer to him as you both fall asleep arm in arm, his hand protectively on your baby bump, your hand on his.

#haikyu x #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #suna x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi haijime x reader #atsumu miya x reader #suna rintarou x reader

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hatsukeii · 1 month

Note

hi to the 🐤

no rush for this request(?) at all!! i was just rotting thinking about childhood bsf iwaizumi hajime with reader in high school and the fic could be about how hajime is too used to the spotlight being taken by oikawa and gets half sad when he thinks u also got stolen by him but no they’re just scheme to plan a huge date for her to ask him out

OWMXKWNC OR OR OR OR childhood bsf ushijima (do u see a pattern?) always being next to reader and always being there for her, helping her run errands, do stuff and he’s like a rlly big lost puppy following her around and one day they’re just like ‘WE’RE DATING?!’ ‘What do you mean? We’ve been dating since you said yes to my ring pop proposal’

thank you for greeting duck the goose:)

i feel like i haven’t written about iwa nearly enough (he is a need btw yes iwaizume hajime (27) athletic trainer save me) BUT i will get to your ushiwaka one soon after as well‼️ gonna feed the iwa crowd today

bags / childhood bsf!iwaizumi hajime x reader

genre(s) - childhood bsf to lovers!! slight angst, but with a good, fluffy ending, oikawa being his usual self, iwa being hot as always

warning(s) - bags by clairo used for a MAN and not a WOMAN smh:( it just fit well though and I love it, gn reader so the girls the gays and the theys are all covered for!! no serious warnings today my pookies<3

wc: 1834

tldr; he waits for the right time with your bag in his hands, hoping for the day he can hold you with them instead

Iwaizumi Hajime (13) has been holding your bags since the days of middle school. Without fail, every afternoon at 3:10pm exactly as the school bell rings, he is standing outside your classroom, his own bag slung over one shoulder for yours to go on the other. Then, he slings it onto himself, and watches you and Oikawa walk out of the classroom together, cursing to himself for never being put in the same class as the two of you. He drags behind, two bags weighing his little middle-schooler body down, but a toothy grin plastered across his face whenever you look back at him with that face. That face with the ever so slightly widened eyes, and lips apart in a worrisome smile.

“Are you sure you can hold two bags, Iwaizumi? I can take it back!”

“I’m fine! It’s all good!”

Middle schooler Iwaizumi Hajime (13) watches you through Oikawa’s squinted eyes as the two of you chat and giggle on the walk home, his footsteps still lagging behind. He’s rarely close to you, unlike Oikawa, so his mind has to fill the blanks. He remembers hearing you mention the crow’s feet that line the corners of your eyes once in passing to Oikawa, who then rambles on about how they look like whiskers on a cat. He recalls the time you face planted into the floor of the school playground, earning you a faint, white scar that slashes across your top lip. He watches you through Oikawa’s eyes like he’s reading a story. But this is Oikawa’s story, Oikawa’s dialogue, Oikawa’s conversations with you, Oikawa’s descriptions of your face, blank spots filled in with blurry recollections of the details of you, stolen from the vibrations in the air between you and Oikawa, all playing out in front of Iwaizumi’s eyes with your bag slung over his shoulder.

Once in a while (every single day), even now, as the three of you continue to walk home together from Aoba Johsai after volleyball practise, Oikawa turns around to pout at him, feigning betrayal and shock as he accuses high school junior Iwaizumi Hajime (16) of “friendship treason.” Whatever that’s supposed to be.

“Iwa-chan! How come you never carry my bag for me too?”

“You can carry your own, dumbass!”

And every time Oikawa has a childish outburst at Iwaizumi, like this one, you snicker into your palm at his antics, the crow’s feet that engrave themselves into your skin turning into smile lines that lace the underside of your eyes, reminding him that even as the audience of Oikawa’s story, living vicariously through his conversations with you, and the smack on his arm that you mockingly give him, Iwaizumi is still inevitably tied to the plot through the strap of your bag hanging on his shoulder. His body, taller and stronger now, still lags behind the two of you by his deliberately slowed steps. This is Oikawa’s story, and if this is what you want, then he will simply watch it play out.

The walk always reaches your home first, to Iwaizumi’s relief. It is only then that he gets the opportunity to live in Oikawa’s shoes, when he walks towards you and eases the bag onto your doorstep. It is here that he can see you through his own eyes instead, noticing the little freckles from the sun that scatter across your cheeks, and the bits of dried skin on your lips that you gnaw off with your front teeth, and the blood that begins to seep through the raw wound where the skin came off. You look real, not like his fractured recollection of the strokes that make up your face. You’ve clawed your way out of Oikawa’s story into his own, and Iwaizumi etches something new into his mind every time he looks up from placing your bag down, patiently pleading to one day know more than just your face.

"Thanks for holding my bag again Iwa, get home safe, okay?"

Iwa. Oikawa's nickname is rubbing off onto you, and he thinks he can get used to this.

For the rest of the walk, Iwaizumi is inserted into Oikawa's story, like some surprise cameo. He readjusts his backpack, slinging both straps onto his shoulders, and Oikawa knudges his side with his elbows suggestively every time you leave.

"You can lie to them, Iwa-chan, but you can't lie to me."

"I'm not lying."

"Sure."

But Oikawa knows Iwaizumi is being unfair to himself, because he doesn't know the way his name slips out of your mouth into the conversations between you and Oikawa, more like a recurring character than a surprise cameo, hidden amongst every other line of dialogue in a script. He doesn't know that whenever the crow's feet begin to grow on your cheek, like whiskers on a cat, it's at the mention of his name, perhaps about something Iwaizumi said to Oikawa during training, or a new nickname he threw at him, the latest one being Hanger Bastard. He doesn't know that when the laughs begin erupting from your belly, Oikawa can hear Iwaizumi's name under your breath, choking out as you mumble to yourself, "Fuck, Iwa has to hear this, Iwa HAS to hear this,” just for Iwa to leave wordlessly after setting your bag down, before you can say anything to him.

One of these days, high school senior Iwaizumi Hajime (18) decides that he will do it. He will finally, after years of holding your bag, ask to hold your hand at graduation instead.

Until he overhears you and Oikawa talking as he walks out of the changing rooms, sweaty and sore from volleyball training, his bag hanging off one shoulder.

“Okay, let me do it,” you straighten your posture, looking up at Oikawa.

“Let’s go to grad formal together. Be my plus one.”

And he remembers, this is not his story. It was never his story to begin with, always Oikawa’s. Iwaizumi is only a cameo, an easter egg that’s there to hold you bag every chapter of the way, praying that you will see him lagging behind, waiting for the right time. His steps come to a halt, and the ground squeaks beneath his sneakers, the towel in his hand falling to the floor.

“Oh. Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

He snatches the towel off the ground, slinging the other strap of his bag on, and heads out of the gym, ripping his eyes away from staring through Oikawa’s, killing himself off in Oikawa’s story, and in your own. Iwaizumi’s character exits the setting of the gym, just a little too quickly to hear the rest of your conversation.

“Iwa-chan is a little shorter than me, so you’ll probably have a better time trying to reach him if you want.”

“Got it, are you sure I’ll be fine though?”

Oikawa knows this needs to happen. He sees that Iwaizumi has been waiting, his patience never running thin even after five years of holding your bag silently on walks home, dragging behind so Oikawa could have his chance at you instead. He has noticed the glances Iwaizumi takes at your face every time he sets your bag down at your doorstep, softer and gentler than the flipping of pages on a yellowing book, yearning to see more, feel more, know more. Oikawa never needed a chance with you, he never wanted it either, not when all you rambled on about was Iwaizumi’s new nicknames for him, or Iwaizumi’s play on the court, or how Iwaizumi would find some stupid video you saw hilarious, but you never had the chance to show him. The second strap going onto his shoulder is all Oikawa needs to be sure that Iwaizumi is tired of waiting. Which means you have to go, now.

“Go, go after him, now, he’s not too far yet. You got this.”

And so you sprint as quickly as your legs will take you. You run down to the school’s exit, and Iwaizumi is nowhere to be found. Your heart sinks at the possibility that he actually thought you were asking Oikawa to be your date, seeing that he departed the gym soundlessly. Your knees ache and every breath you huff in seems to bruise your lungs a little bit, and you have to stop and hunch over, hands pressed against your knees for stability. Your bag weighs on your shoulders, and you realise you have forgotten how it feels to walk with it on your back, books dragging you down like an anchor in the seabed. You slap your knees, it’s the next corner, and it’s about time you carried your own bag for once anyways.

Iwaizumi is staring at a bouquet of flowers that sits lifelessly on his desk in petals of red and stems of green, contemplating what to do with them, when he hears a knock at his front door.

“Hajime! Someone’s here for you!” His mother yells from downstairs, her words dragging on suggestively as he slumps down to the entrance. You stand at his doorstep, a palm sized journal in one hand and holding the doorframe with the other as your body leans into the wall, face flushed and lowered in exhaustion from the sprint you just took.

“Oh, hey, what are you doi-”

Your head jolts up to meet his eyes, and Oikawa is right. Iwaizumi is a little easier to reach. Your hand shoots out, the journal sticking out temptingly from your fingers. Iwaizumi still thinks this is Oikawa’s story, the one he chose to die in. Yet he takes the journal anyways, unhooking the elastic loop and opening it up.

“21/1- Saw a video of a cat spilling vermicelli everywhere, wanna show Iwa because he’d probably like it.”

“23/1- Chat when will Iwa talk to me on the walk home:(”

“27/1- Oikawa says I should just chat him up but I’m nervous???? what the fuck do i do???”

Lines upon lines of journal entries deck the pages of the book, and Iwaizumi can do nothing but read every single entry, a rush of blood flooding into his head.

“14/4- Iwa invited to me to vball training!! Wonder if i can keep going every day to watch him play…”

“15/4- Why does he go quiet when Oikawa is around:(”

He drops his arm, revealing your face behind the journal. His ears pulse at the sound of his heart in his throat.

“Iwa, let’s go to grad formal together. Wanna be my plus one?”

Shoving the book into your arms, his hand signals for you to stay, and he sprints upstairs, almost tripping over on the hardwood beneath his feet. The bouquet of flowers waits for him at his desk, more lively than ever, and he snatches it into his hand, before stumbling back down the stairs to you. He straightens himself at the door, his windpipe threatening to close.

“Sorry, the hoodie and the sweats aren’t really doing me justice right now.”

You stare at him, who scratches the back of his neck, a bouquet of roses wrapped in coffee stained newspapers in his hand. No, you think, the hoodie and sweats are doing him so much justice.

“I should’ve asked you a long time ago, probably back before junior formal dinner, or at freshman dance night, maybe even playground duty in middle school. Can I make it up to you, and ask you now?”

You nod, crow’s feet threatening to emerge from your cheeks, but you suppress them. Your mouth hangs ajar, not sure what to make of this situation.

“Can I have the honour of being yours?”

“Fuck yeah you can!”

Iwaizumi doesn’t spare a moment, before lifting you up by your underarms and pulling you into himself. From afar, Oikawa watches from his own house on the same block, grinning with pride. You giggle into his shoulder, arms around his neck. It sounds like the beginning of Iwaizumi’s story, maybe something even better than what he imagined.

“Now, do you want me to walk you home? I can take your bag for you.”

“Sure, Iwa.”

And walk you home he does, except he doesn’t hold the strap of your bag on his shoulder with his free hand anymore, finally linking you fingers with his own instead.

author's note:

HEYYYY I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS BB @catsoupki I started it the day you requested but i was so busy that i ended up getting WRITER'S BLOCK UM?? but i had this whole idea i was NOT about to let it get wasted because i couldn't think smh ANYWAYS

hope everyone else liked it too!! i love iwaizume hajime (27) athletic trainer and his hanger bastard too i guess... need someone to be walking out the door with your bags too

and here's the writing playlist!! feel free to add songs into it for me so i can find new artists and write with more inspo!!

anyways tags as usual:

@chuuya-brainrot @fiannee @starlysama @bailey-reeds

ok love u guys bye bye

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi haijime x reader #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu iwaizumi #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu!!#iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi fluff #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa tooru #hq iwaizumi #hq oikawa

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