#iwaizumi x gn reader

[eggyrocks]

bites -> h. iwaizumi

now playing: the chamber pot was full by iris bilinsky

main masterlist

tags: iwaizumi x gn!reader, hurt/comfort

word count: 3.3k

warnings: illusions to childhood trauma, destructive coping mechanisms, unstable relationship, arguments, abandoment, death of a family member, language, 3rd person pov, they/them pronouns for reader, not proofread

minors dni & other rules

an: if no one else got me, i bet on losing dogs got me. can i get an amen

It’s easier to bite than it is to be bitten.

And when the first few years of your life leave you with angry, ragged bite marks all over your body, the imprints of familiar teeth disfiguring your skin, it’s something you learn quickly. You’d do anything to stop it. You’d present your neck in submission. You’d scatter at the sight of bared teeth. You’d eventually start biting back.

The train rocks them slightly, their shoulders drifting just a touch left, and then just a touch right. The low noises of the train pulling forwards on the track are blocked out by the headphones on their head, soft and sweet music in their ears. The sky is rich and dark, an empty basin untouched by the lights of skyscrapers and phone screens. It’s nice, almost. Peaceful.

They’re not quite used to the city yet, even though it’s been years. Sometimes, in the morning, when their mind is awake, but their eyes are still closed shut and the sunlight is turning their eyelids a bright orange, they’re afraid that they’re back home. That they will open their eyes and be there. Where it’s quieter, but the buzz of cicadas was constant. Back home, where every noise was a threat, and every threat made their spine curl inwards.

The noises of the city around them are their first comfort. Noise isn’t something to be feared, here. When they hear it, the voices of strangers and rumbling of the subway beneath them float up into their open window, they can finally open their eyes, and feel at ease.

Steadily, the train eases into a stop. Their eyes drift towards the sign, and note their stop is still further down the line, that they’re still nowhere near as close to home as they would like to be.

Today was their mother’s funeral. They didn’t go. They cried, and then felt like they had no right to. They drank a bottle of something that made their throat burn, and then hurled the glass bottle against the wall, just so they could watch it shatter. And when they left, not even bothering to lock the door behind them, the shards were still scattered across the hardwood floor, reflecting the sunlight that poured in through the window.

It's been a day of idling wandering. Of trying so desperately not to think of the one thing that has been on their mind. A day of trying to become numb. A fleshy and pliable mound of nothing, free of bite marks, unbothered by the cicadas.

Their body is tired and their mind worn, eyes red and puffy, cheeks stained with tears. They just want to go home. To step over the glass and wake up to noise and pretend that their mother isn’t dead or alive, but just a faded, blurry memory that could be real, or might not be.

Vibrations from their pocket drag them out of their thoughts. They clear their throat as if they’re going to speak, but they know they’re not going to answer. It doesn’t matter who’s calling. There’s nothing they need to say.

Hajime.

They sniffle and clear their throat again. And then, they place their phone back in their pocket, letting it ring, hoping that he will give up after he gets their voicemail the first time.

When they first met Iwaizumi Hajime, they had a school uniform and a bag full of contraband. Loose stolen cigarettes, water bottles filled with clear alcohol, a handful of lighters that could barely produce a flame.

It was dark, and classes had let out hours ago, but yet they lingered. Wandering on campus, trying not to be seen by anyone else that might still be lingering. The wind kept blowing out the lighter, and they were struggling to keep the tip of the cigarette red. They leaned up against the outside of a building, focused on the heat on the tips of their fingers.

“What are you doing?”

They didn’t flinch. Getting caught never made them flinch. They were used to it, at this point. Used to being the delinquent, the one always in trouble. The one who caused problems. What was one more issue. What was another problem. They turned their head to face the person who called out, lip already furled up in a snarl.

It was some relief to them to see that it wasn’t anyone of authority. Not really. Just two dickheads from one of their sports teams. They recognized one. Oikawa Tooru. Pretty and imposing, adored by all. It was impossible not to know who he was, even if you tried. And they tried.

The second one, they didn’t recognize. The only thing they remember about him from that night is how they looked at them. Frowning slightly, head tilted. Not looking disgusted like his friend did. Not looking scared or worried or uncomfortable like all the other looks they were used to getting. He looked at them in a way that was unfamiliar. In a way that made them take a step back.

They had fixed their glare on Oikawa. “None of your fucking business,” they called back to him, voice as nasty as it always was, and lighter finally catching the end of their cigarette, tip cherried.

There was this look Oikawa gave them. One that made them want to snarl and snap their jaw like a dog. One that told them so clearly that he thought he was better than them. That he was a figure of superiority, and they were filth to him.

He didn’t say anything else, though. His friend nudged him with an elbow and gave him one look. Then they were off, walking away as if nothing had happened. As if they heard none of your fucking business and accepted it earnestly.

And they were relieved to be alone again.

They had noticed pretty quickly, though, that the friend, the one with the look, was hard to avoid after that. He didn’t say anything to them, not for a while. But he kept an eye on them. Head turning to look at them in class, not bothering with discretion. He always found them after classes, hiding somewhere on campus.

Eventually, they learned his name. Eventually, he started asking if he could walk them home. Iwaizumi asked seven times before they said yes.

Their eyes were on the ground, watching Iwaizumi’s stride, and how it matched with theirs. Their hand gripped tightly on the strap of their bag. “Why’d you want to walk me home so bad?” they had asked, breaking a long stretch of silence.

Iwaizumi shrugged. He didn’t look at them. “I don’t know. I just want to. No harm to it, so just let me, alright?”

So they did.

Every night, after they avoided going home for as long as possible and Iwaizumi was sweaty and out of breath from practice, they walked home. He would always stand back and watch as they opened the door and closed it behind them. Then, Iwaizumi would turn around and walk back in the direction they came from.

Iwaizumi became a lot of things to them. Too many to list off. It was overwhelming to think about, sometimes. They way that he became so intwined with their life that it was hard to remember what it was like before he was in it.

He made life easier, for them. Iwaizumi would laugh and it would make them smile. They woke up in the morning and their first thought was not to listen for the potential creak of footsteps outside of their door, but it was of Iwaizumi and his crooked grin and the way his voice sounded over the phone. And when things got hard, they would close their eyes and grit their teeth and endure, thinking of how it would all be okay once they could sneak out the window and slip into Iwaizumi’s.

His fingers were running along their scalp, weaving between the roots of their hair and a thin line of spit connected their lips. It broke when he opened his mouth to say, “I love you,” for the first time.

At the time, I love you didn’t seem like enough. Because Iwaizumi was more than just someone to love. He made breathing easier. He dragged his teeth along the skin of their neck and left bite marks that meant something new. They said it back in a voice that sounded like a strangers, and they meant it. But it never felt like enough. Not for Iwaizumi.

And then, after two years of a love that felt like it took up all the air in the room, he left. Iwaizumi left.

They weren’t mad. It wasn’t anger or rage. It was this heartbreak that felt like nausea. This cramping, pounding pain in the chest that doubled them over, that made them shake. This desperation to cling to him and this internal begging to him, to the universe, to anyone, for it to not be true. For him to stay, by their side, where they thought he was supposed to be.

But it was true. Iwaizumi was leaving. Going to a different country without them. Going to live a different life without them. Going to become a new person without them. And it didn’t matter how sweetly he delivered the news, how he held onto them as he did. It didn’t make it hurt less.

Hurt dogs bite. They snap their jaws out of fear of getting hurt worse. And that was all they were ever taught to do.

He’s been back for over a year, now. Living in the same city as them. Orbiting the same circles as them. Iwaizumi’s different now. They’re different now. But it didn’t take long after his return for them to collide again. In bars. In coffee shops. In rooms with locked doors.

Every time they do, they feel like they can forgive him for leaving. When they’re deep into the night together or there’s alcohol in their veins or Iwaizumi’s kissing them like he used to. It’s in those moments they feel like they can be together, like they were. But then when their thoughts get clearer and the sun rises, they remember how the abandonment felt, and how they never truly got over it. They remember how they could never, ever forget, and certainly could not forgive. And they bite.

The train stops again. The doors open, and no one steps off. No one steps on. Iwaizumi left a voicemail. They don’t listen. They don’t want to hear his voice. But they look at the transcription of his words. Where are you? Please call me. Don’t do this, okay? Please.

When he calls again, they swipe the notification away, determined to ignore him, determined not to find comfort in him again. The tip of their thumb hits taps on their messages, scrolling through their dozens of unread texts. They have some from Iwaizumi, which they ignore. There’s plenty from distant relatives, grandparents, siblings. They’re full of admonishments and curses and lectures.

Some are nice, from friends, some acquaintances, wishing them well and giving awkward, unsure condolences. They have one from Oikawa.

9:12 PM: Stop doing this to him.

It was always up and down with Oikawa. He never thought them worthy enough of Iwaizumi and was always quick to point out their mistakes and flaws and issues. But they would always remember the night Oikawa had drunkenly confessed to them after Iwaizumi’s return that he hopes it works out for the both of them. That Iwaizumi was better with them around. That they just need to get their shit together.

They sigh and pocket their phone again. It did little to help.

For the rest of the ride, they ignored the constant calls from Iwaizumi, and let the voicemails pile up, until there was no more space for them.

He’d given up by the time they reached their stop, and the sun had fully dipped behind the horizon. They step out of the station and onto the street, one song playing on a loop, and walk lazily back towards their apartment. It’s an early summer night, the air pleasant, not too sticky with humidity. They can feel the substances drain from their veins as they start to gain some sense of clarity.

Their shoulders are drooped and feet dragging by the time they reach their front door. Sloppily, they push their key in, missing the first two times, before they push their hip into the door, ready to stumble into bed and sleep so long they forget about the fact that their mother is dead.

Once they stagger into the kitchen, though, they freeze. He’s there. Iwaizumi is there, one hand holding a trash bag, the other pressing a phone to his ear. “-yeah, no I’ll call you back. They just got here.”

He hangs up then, slipping his phone into the pocket of his jeans. They stand there, frozen at the sight of him. There’s no shattered glass bottle on the floor. There’s no stains of alcohol on the wall. There is just Iwaizumi, exhausted.

Before they can even full process his presence, he’s dropping the trash bag on the ground and walking towards them, arms extending and pulling them tightly into his chest. And it’s in his embrace, suddenly encased in a familiar warmth and smell, that they snap back into reality. They squirm, palms of their hands pressed flat against his chest and shoving him away. “What are you doing?” they ask, step back and away from him.

Iwaizumi lets go, and he looks at them. The same look he had on the first night they had ever seen him, back in high school. It’s one that they’ve gotten used to over the years. Curiosity and concern. Iwaizumi wears the urge to protect them the same as he always has. “Where have you been?” he asks, voice hoarse and worn. “I’ve been trying to reach you all day.”

They toss their keys on to their countertop. “Don’t worry about it,” they dismiss, turning their back on him and opening the refrigerator, eyes scanning for an unopened bottle of alcohol. Whatever kind will work. They’re just feeling too sober.

But Iwaizumi is a step behind them, and he juts his knee into the fridge, closing the door. They turn again, arms crossed and glaring to see that he is glaring right back down at them. “What’s your problem today?” they demand, aggravated, aggressive.

“Don’t do this,” Iwaizumi pleads, trying to keep his own frustrations clear from his tone. “Not today. Just let me be here for you.”

They scoff, and roll their eyes, opening the fridge once more, swooping down to snatch up and can of beer before Iwaizumi closes it once more. “Just so you can leave again in the morning?”

It’s mean. It’s unnecessary. But they can’t help it. It comes naturally to them, to throw it back in his face in a moment like this. They don’t know why they do it. They don’t get any sense of satisfaction when the words hit his face, when they make it drop. It just twists their gut in this awful sort of way.

The can of beer opens with a hiss, and they take a hefty gulp. Iwaizumi watches, and balls his hands into fists by his side. “Drinking’s only going to make it worse,” he warns, voice thick. It only earns another scoff from them, and Iwaizumi takes a step closer to them. They take a step away, their back hitting the counter behind them.

“What are you doing here?” they ask, holding the can of beer in front of their lips, using it as a barrier between them and Iwaizumi’s words.

“No one knew where you were,” he tells them, strained. “I’ve been trying to figure out where you went and what the fuck happened all day.”

They shrug. “I went out. I dunno.”

He’s unimpressed. “Did you got to the funeral?” he asks.

The words make them flinch. It makes them uneasy to hear those words spoken aloud. “No. Did you?”

Iwaizumi frowns. He hated their mother. He’s always hated her. He wouldn’t honor her in life and he wouldn’t honor her in death. “No. Where were you all day?”

“Why’s it fucking matter?”

Iwaizumi inhales. They can see the breath rise and fall in his broad shoulders. “Cut the shit, okay? I’m sick of it,” he snaps. “You’re really starting to piss me off with this. Stop acting like people don’t care about you. Stop acting like I don’t care about you. I do care about you and it makes me fucking worried when you just disappear-“

“You disappeared,” they remind him, pointing a finger against the center of his chest. “You left me, and you weren’t worried about me then, so you don’t get to be worried now.”

He shakes his head. “I was worried. I never stopped worrying. Being away from you fucking sucked for me too,” he insists, trying to keep a control on the volume of his voice, but it wavers.

They cry when they’re angry. They can’t help it. They hate it. It makes them feel weak and emotional. But their throat gets tight and their eyes prick and they just can’t stop themself. “It sucked for you but it was hell for me! I was stuck with her and all I wanted was you and if I couldn’t have you, then I just wanted to hear your voice but you never fucking called!” they erupt, leaning in closer to him now, face hot and tears spilling.

Their voice shakes. They’ve argued, they’ve danced around the subject. They reminded Iwaizumi of how he left. But this is the first time they’ve said anything more about it, and the worst twist in their chest.

“You abandoned me,” they continue. “Once when you got on the plane and then again when you acted like I didn’t exist. I used to wait up all night for a phone call from you.”

Iwaizumi blinks. “I didn’t think you wanted to hear from me,” he admits, voice lower now. “I thought you hated me.”

They did hate him. They hated him and they loved him all at once. “I still hate you,” they say, and it’s half-true. “I hate you,” they choke out. It’s half a sob, and they slump back against the counter. “I hate you.”

Iwaizumi leans closer, placing his hands on counter on either side of them, caging them in. “I love you,” he says, plainly, like it’s a fact. And they shake their head, crossing their arms over their chest, trying to deny it. Iwaizumi lifts a hand and takes their chin between his thumb and his finger. He makes them look him in the eye. “I love you.”

And they feel so stuck. Because they want to push him away and kick him out and delete his number and never, ever give him the chance to leave them ever again. They never want to feel the way they felt when Iwaizumi disappeared from their life.

But they want so badly to be loved by him again, and to love him again. He’s offering it to them, leaning in closer to his forehead rests against theirs, and they’re not sure they have the self-discipline to deny him. “I love you,” he whispers again. “I don’t care if you hate me. I’ll always love you.”

It’s then that they can’t hold back the sobs any longer. It all just becomes too much. The drop the can of beer, still almost full, and it fizzes and spills all over the floor. Neither one of them seems to notice, as they lean forward, pressing their face into Iwaizumi’s neck as their cries rock through them. Iwaizumi is steady, like he always is, arms tight around their back, holding them up, like he always did.

And at least for now, that is enough for them.

an: omg this was kinda corny but also i kinda love it lmao. VERY DIFFERENT FROM WHAT I USUALLY POST HERE SO I AM NERVOUS !! if u made it this far pls tell me what u think <333 reblogs are appreicated!

[kissagii]

𝕕𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕞 𝕨𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕝𝕦𝕕𝕖...

featuring: iwaizumi, akaashi, kuroo, sugawara x gn!reader

warnings: none :)

𝕚𝕨𝕒𝕚𝕫𝕦𝕞𝕚 𝕙𝕒𝕛𝕚𝕞𝕖

wearing his spare jersey to games

having an arm around your waist whenever you're together

random passionate kisses

him trying to seduce you by flexing

movie marathons going late into the night

being reminded to drink water throughout the day

him being at any of your events (sports or whatever you do)

𝕒𝕜𝕒𝕒𝕤𝕙𝕚 𝕜𝕖𝕚𝕛𝕚

sunset walks through the park

coffee shop dates

random flowers turning up in your backpack/locker/doorstep

him kissing your hand like a proper gentleman

late night conversations about philosophy

ranting about the classmates/coworkers that get on your nerves

him falling asleep on your chest to the sound of your heartbeat

𝕜𝕦𝕣𝕠𝕠 𝕥𝕖𝕥𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕠

him trying to impress you with the programs on his calculator

other guys being afraid to flirt with you

rambling to each other about your random interests

cheesy pickup lines as greetings

him dropping everything to come to your aid when you need it

texts reminding you to get to sleep on time

things you ask him to pass you being held out of your reach

𝕤𝕦𝕘𝕒𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕒 𝕜𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕙𝕚

compliments folded up inside origami birds

rib crushing surprise hugs

watching low quality romcoms to just to roast them

cheering loudly whenever he gets to play in a game

being surprised with your favorite food when you're feeling down

looking for shapes in the clouds and stars

forehead kisses

[mementomarii]

Hold His Hat

Pairing: Iwaizumi Hajime x gn!reader

Genre: Fluff/crack, post-timeskip, very domestic.

Warnings: Threats of squashing an imaginary frog, but that's quite literally it.

Word Count: 872

Author's Note: Listen, I just saw a few videos about this trend on tiktok and I thought it'd be funny if I wrote about it. Also, this is my first real post, so I hope you like it :)

"Haji!" 

"What's up?"

"C'mere for a second, I wanna show you something."

Although he didn't give you a verbal response, you knew that he was on his way out of the kitchen, seeing as the sound of him chopping vegetables came to a sudden halt and the sink began running instead. Within moments, his head popped out to peer at you–looking almost suspicious.

You offered him an innocent smile as you lifted a hand, making a grabbing motion toward him. "Don't look at me like that, it's nothing bad."

"Okay, sorry." The man chuckled at your words, and with a shake of his head, he was making his way over to you.

Once he was seated beside you, you lifted both of your hands and cupped them together as if you were holding something precious in your palms. "Look."

Hajime's eyes flicked down to look at your empty hands before they returned to your eyes. "..What am I looking at?"

"A frog, Haji. I have a frog in my hands." You explained, tilting your head to the side as you peered down at your palms, lips jutting out into a childish pout.

"..You have a frog in your hands?"

"Yes, and he's about to do three backflips. I just wanted you to see it, too. Look," You paused, lifting your head slightly to look about a foot above your hands before your eyes returned to your palms. The action was repeated twice more as if you had been watching something lift up and drop down to your hands. "See?"

"That's.." You nearly laughed at how he paused, with his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion, looking almost concerned for your well-being. "That's very impressive."

With one of your hands, you pretended to pluck something from the supposed frog's body, and then you lifted your hand to him instead. "Hold his hat, it's falling off of him."

You had to resist the urge to laugh at him as he took the "hat" from your hand.

"How was he doing backflips with a hat on?" He questioned, and honestly, you weren't really expecting it. The fact that your boyfriend was actually playing along was a surprise, you thought he would just brush you off, fuss your hair up a little bit to mess with you, and then head back into the kitchen.

"He was holding it on his head, duh. But that makes doing backflips more difficult–look, he's gonna do three more." You repeated your actions from before, and after doing it three times, you turned your head to look at your boyfriend... Who was still holding the "hat" between his fingers. "Isn't he talented?"

That question made him laugh, "Very talented."

"Okay, now, do I actually have a frog in my hands?"

"Yeah." He responded as if it were a stupid thing to ask.

You laughed, of course, and he couldn't help but laugh with you. "Really? Okay, okay, do you believe that I actually have a frog in my hand? Like, can you see him?"

Hajime's laughter died down, and you noticed that his eyes shifted down to your hands for a moment before he continued. "Well, no, I can't see him."

"Then why are you holding his hat?"

Silence.

You grinned.

He dropped the frog's hat.

"Because you told me to hold his hat?" He responded, dragging out his words, unsure of how to respond.

Again, it made you laugh. It was just all too cute, how couldn't you laugh? "Intimidating and firm" Iwaizumi Hajime was holding your imaginary frog's hat because you told him to.

You reached over to grab his hand as you laughed, squeezing it and brushing your thumb over his knuckles. "Oh, that's adorable, you know?"

"What? I'm confused, what was that all about?" He asked with a sheepish grin, leaning against you and pressing his face against your hair in slight embarrassment.

With your other hand, you reached over to swipe your phone from where you had set it up on the end table. "It was a test, a dumb boyfriend test."

His jaw dropped in offense. "I am not a dumb boyfriend!"

"But you passed the test, so you kind of are!" You, still laughing, pointed out as you tapped your thumb against the red circle on your screen, ending the video. "'Kawa wanted to see if it would work on you, so he asked me to do it."

"Do not send that to him, Y/n." His voice was firm as he reached over your lap to grab–or at least try to grab your phone from your hands.

Quickly standing up from the couch, you darted across the living room, furiously tapping away at your home. "Or what?"

"Or-.." The man paused for a moment, and the lack of repercussions had you smiling victoriously. "Or I'm crushing the frog."

"What?" You cried out, putting your actions on hold mere moments before you were able to send the video to your boyfriend's best friend. "You wouldn't!"

Although the frog definitely wasn't real, perhaps all of that world-building– with the frog's hat and his backflips– had convinced your heart that he was, in fact, living and breathing.

Unfortunately for Oikawa, you never did send him that video.

[lyssasdrafts]

— FOOTNOTE

relationship: iwaizumi hajime x gn! reader

includes: friends to lovers, unrequited love, angst (?), a little bit ooc for iwaizumi

like you always do, you wait for him at the bus stop, ignoring the sound of water hitting the shelter you’re sitting under. looking away from your phone, you check to make sure that it’s definitely raining.

hey i’m so sorry i’m running late

i’ll be there in 10mins?

you let out a sigh as you realize you’ll have to walk out in this weather, before you respond.

yeah sure it’s alright

i brought my umbrella too so

so glad to have a friend like you, thanks 👍

you consider getting up and going without him. you’re running late and you’ll be soaking by the time you make it. but you don’t. you don’t ever get up.

because you’d always wait for him. even if you know your feelings aren’t returned, you’d wait. you’d wait for him as long as it took. even if it’s raining.

“you told me that patience won’t change how you felt.”

you don’t mind sharing an umbrella. iwaizumi offers to hold over both of you, and tells you to move closer to him.

“aren’t you gonna be cold?” he asks.

“so i’ll stop being pretentious and loathing our friendship.”

from afar, you two look like a couple. his arm is around you, pulling you close enough that you can hear strangers who you nod at as you walk by whispering “aren’t they sweet?” when they think you’re out of earshot.

“let’s hope the weather is nicer than this in California,” you smile, he perks up when you mention his scholarship.

“then who’s gonna walk with you everyday?”

“i’m sure i’ll find someone,” you poke at him.

“you’d probably get lost by yourself”

“should’ve let you drown in the rain.” you laugh.

“so i’ll just take a footnote in your life.”

the truth is that you don’t want him to leave. you don’t want him to leave behind his life, the one that he shared so much of with you. you don’t want to drift apart from each other.

“we ate at a restaurant, the host said we’re cute.”

“thank you, we’re not together though.” he laughs, you don’t know if you should smile or look away from him.

“we are both good looking, though, are we not?” you wait until you’re both alone to make that joke.

he makes a face at you before he chuckles, “in your dreams, you wish.”

“we shared the moscato and laughed cause it’s true, for me.”

you’d dropped him off at the airport yesterday.

iwaizumi is the type to comfort you by taking your hand or patting you on the back. he prefers to show his affection by doing little things; he offers to carry your bags for you, he listens when you’re upset and won’t admit it, or like when he held that umbrella you shared.

hugs from iwaizumi are rare. but when it’s the last call and he’s supposed to be boarding the plane in a few minutes, your friend doesn’t know what else to do but to pull you in.

“i swear i’ll call you everyday,” he mutters as he notices you’re crying.

“you taught me a lesson, that feelings are reckless.”

and so you find yourself the day after walking alone for the first time, trying not to step into a puddle. you hadn’t realized how quick the autumn season was passing by until now. you notice how cold the wind has become while pondering about your best friend who’d just left. you stop in your tracks after you see a message from iwaizumi.

just landed. gotta unpack now 😭

maybe you’re glad you never acted on your feelings for him. that you’re not holding him back if you had confessed. you’re glad you were even able to be a part of his life, even if he’ll just remember you as “someone he used to know back home.”

“but a footnote will do. (please don’t forget me.)”

[ladylumin]

Iwaizumi Tells You How Much He Loves You ♡

[akaashi-adorer]

Hi I really liked your Akaashi best boyfriend post. I read the pinned message and saw you write for Iwaizumi. Can I request for a jealous Iwaizumi? It’s alright if you don’t respond too!

a/n: omg my first request! i’m really glad that you liked it! i just HAD to write it as soon as possible since i really had fun imagining this~

although iwaizumi might have a couple of insecurities in other things, your relationship with him is not one of them. he has no doubts, no fears that you might leave him at this moment and he’s confident that you’re attracted to him just like his is to you.

but sometimes, jealousy might still spring up.

he knows that nothing will come of it, but he can’t help but feel a bit uneasy when he sees someone flirting with you in plain sight.

he thinks that it’s just concern for you as it appears to him that the person just won’t let up. in your eyes, it’s jealousy. plain and simple jealousy, you have no doubt about that.

and how do you know that?

being with him for this long, that’s how. over the almost-a-year duration you’ve been together with him, you’ve learned a thing or two about the cues to his emotions.

like, for example, how he appears to be visibly pouting. and the fact that his arms are crossed over his stomach. you have to physically hold yourself back from laughing at him — he looks way too much like a petulant child, especially because you can hear the almost silent grumbling and “hmph”s that escape his mouth.

yep, all of them match the typical ‘jealous iwa’ mode you suspected he was in. the only thing missing is—

ah, it finally showed up! ‘get so annoyed by the random approacher that he starts to drag (name) away’ is what you and oikawa decided on calling it. because that’s exactly what he does.

he mumbles something about having to leave with “his partner”, leaving the person shaking from the icy glare he shot them and grabs your hand, gently squeezing it before dragging you away to a slightly more secluded place. you can’t hold yourself back that well anymore; the giggles have started and accompany you until he stops.

his eyes are enough to pose the question. you respond to him by pulling him to you, planting a kiss on his lips.

“jealous, haji?” you tease, squishing his cheeks. he brings his hand up to yours and nuzzles against your palms.

a smirk replaces his pout and rolls his eyes. “you wish,” iwaizumi scoffs.

the kiss seemed to have done its trick, per usual.

[ey-jun]

when your social battery runs out at a party, so you find your best friend iwaizumi and just... bury your face in his shoulder. he quietly puts an arm around you, but otherwise continues with his own conversation because he knows you just need space to yourself. once whoever he's talking to has left, he whispers to you, "wanna go home?"

[emmyrosee]

“Pssst…”

“Choke.”

“Wanna makeout?”

Instantly, as if on a cue, Hajime’s face blisters into a flush, eyes widening and brows angry as he whips his head to face you.

You’re smiling, and he hates it, and you’re wearing his shirt that completely drowns your frame, hands and knees on the mattress just inches away, and he’s convinced he could live an extra 15 years if you hadn’t stumbled into his life.

But you did stumble into his life. Yay him.

His pencil taps rapidly against his desk, his studying having been completely hijacked by your straightforward flirts. Inviting you to do homework with him never really ended well, and how he hasn’t learned this lesson yet, is a mystery to you both.

“I’m busy.”

You huff and shift to sit on the bed as the gods intended, “you can take three minutes to makeout with me.”

“When was the last time we made out less than ten minutes?” He asks, and he wishes he hadn’t by the way your cocky grin splays over your face.

“Cant help that you’re into me,” you croon. He groans as he tosses his hand up to his face, scrubbing gently to revitalize himself. He’s quickly snapped out of it when he feels your feet wrap around the base of his desk chair and pull him closer to the bed.

This, has him chuckling from disbelief, moving his hands from his face and letting his eyes flick towards your feet. “Be so for real right now,” he says, snickering.

You bite your tongue between your teeth, but before you can do anything else, you scream as he makes a dash at you, barely letting you kick in defense before he pins you down to the bed, his broad chest doing most of the caging while his fingers spider up your sides and his lips sponge kisses on your neck and ears.

“You’re so annoying,” he growls, the vibrations of the rasp tickling your neck. His fingers still and instantly, your arms shift to toss around his neck, looking up at him longingly.

You lift a hand up to card his hair away from his face, “hi.”

“Hey baby.”

With that, he leans down to kiss you, knee planting on the bed to keep him stable and allow him to deepen the kiss. You mewl happily, letting your fingers push his head impossibly closer to you.

You taste sweet, like the bowl of fruit you’ve been stealing from him for the past hour, and you’re so warm from being swaddled in his blankets that he feels calm just by being close to you.

Then again, you always have that affect on him.

With a slight bite of your lips, he slowly starts to pull back, planting little pecks to soothe the bites. You giggle happily and reach up eagerly for each one.

“Haji?”

“What?”

Biting your lip cheekily, he hardens his gaze and reinforces his grip slightly, ready to restart a tickle attack if needed.

“Got you to makeout with me.”

You smirk and lick his nose with the tip of your tongue, making him reel back slightly with a scrunch of his face. He looks at you blankly, while you laugh and play with the locks of hair at the nape of his neck.

“How do you always manage to get your damn way?” He mumbles, leaning down to press another kiss on your lips. Under him, you giggle and chase his lips, clearly eager that now you’ve gotten him to kiss you once, he’s keen to give you more.

Like he always does.

Like he always will.

“Cant help that you’re into me.”

“I really am. Asshole.”

“I love you, too.”

[luvring]

EARLY PROMISE

gn!reader | 1.3k words, you see the ring iwaizumi wants to propose with a little (very) early

there’s a box behind shirts that iwaizumi no longer wears in his closet.

maybe that’s why you’ve never seen it before. you never would have, were you not given permission to look for clothes to donate while he went on a run.

it’s small, velvet, and inside there’s a ring that, any other day, you would have lingered to watch for as long as possible at a jewelry store.

but you’re not at the mall, nor are you currently being proposed to. you’re at home, standing alone while your stomach churn, and fingers tremble as you stare at the box in your palm where, right now, it decisively should not be. “fuck.”

“babe?”

the sound of the door and his keys accompany hajime’s voice from the entryway. if you listen closely, above your heartbeat pounding in your ears, you can hear him kick off his shoes—them hitting the step that he’s tripped on a few times after long nights with friends and drinks.

he shouldn’t be home yet.

you will your voice to work. “yeah?”

“you looking through the closet already?”

“...yeah?” there’s a questioning lilt at the end as your eyes scan around, his engagement ring—your engagement ring?—still in your hands.

and you know the pattern of hajime’s walk. you know his usual pace, how the floorboards creak as he walks down the hall toward your bedroom. he’s steady—slippers sometimes dragging across the wood if he’s tired, quiet in the morning when he thinks you’re still asleep.

today his footsteps come closer, a little faster, a little heavier than usual.

you assume it’s from the same nerves as yours.

“i forgot, there’s, uh, some shirts i’m keeping that i don’t want—”

hajime opens the door and spots you easily, standing in the middle of the closet as if you were the worst criminal alive, caught stealing in broad daylight.

you to see.

“to throw away,” he finishes, shoulders dropping. his voice quiets to a whisper, “shit.”

silence circles the both of you.

the velvet feels warm in your palm—much heavier than it was a moment ago. you wish you had an analogue clock in your room instead of hajime’s digital. maybe its ticking could take off some of the weight you feel at the sight of him standing a few feet away. maybe you could stare down its hands, listen to its rhythm, let it guide your breathing instead of standing with bated breath, chest unmoving while hajime’s rises as he catches his own.

seconds pass and you flounder, mouth opening and closing while you stand across from each other, neither sure who should speak first.

you don’t think this is how proposals are supposed to go.

your eyes flicker to the still open drawer to your right.

and you walk over, crouch to put the box where it was, pat the old obscure band t-shirt at the top of the pile in front of it, close the drawer, and go back to stand where you were, hands clenched into fists on your sides.

hajime blinks.

“did you really just put it back?” he asks, a little breathy as if he wants to laugh.

you look to the wall beside him then back at his face, as if you could be confused about his question. “...put what back?”

and this time, hajime really does laugh. and then he shakes his head, the way he does when you ask a silly question. “hon—”

“no, no, i’m not—you—that was—” you shake your head and frown. you wish his laughter would comfort you the way it always does, but you think you need to let guilt stay, gnaw for a little while longer. “this isn’t how it’s supposed to go.”

he tilts his head and smiles, just a little. “you’re telling me.”

“hajime.” you purse your lips. “i’m sorry. i feel like i just ruined whatever you were planning.”

hajime huffs and walks toward you, arms reaching out to hold yours. his hands are cool from the morning air, and goosebumps cover your skin as his touch runs from your elbows to your hands, where his fingers find their place in between yours. he’s looking down at them as he speaks—the ones that had held the box, to be specific. “it’s okay, it’s not your fault i forgot. plus i decided to run back a block instead of just texting or calling.”

“you panicked.”

“obviously.”

letting go of one hand, you lightly push his chest. but his hand follows, this time holding you to his heart. you give him a look. “i would’ve done the same thing if i was as fast as you. and i don’t know, i could’ve checked somewhere else. or closed my eyes. or wiped my memory.”

“you would’ve checked eventually, and closing your eyes is not effective for what you’re doing.”

“mind wipe would’ve been okay?”

“how would i have known?”

“...the mind wipe-y gun in my hand.”

he snorts. “what? it keeps a little history of your memory wipes?”

“i don’t know, maybe they have those. do you have one?”

“we’re getting off topic,” hajime chides, though there’s no real anger behind his lopsided smile and tilt of his head.

you sigh. there’s no average way of dealing with the topic of exposed proposal plans, so the best you can offer is a small, closed mouth smile of your own. “...you really wanna marry me?”

he reaches to squish your cheeks. “no, that’s for the other person i’ve been dating since high school and live with while you’re asleep.” you roll your eyes and clasp your hand over his.

“of course i wanna marry you. i’ve wanted to marry you for years,” he says with ease, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“well,”—you fidget—“that’s good to know.” your reply is soft, and you will yourself to ignore the warmth that creeps up your neck and face. your eyes fall to where hajime’s thumb rubs the back of your hand, if only to avoid his gaze. “i...can i ask how you were thinking of proposing or is that weird? or maybe you shouldn’t tell me so you can still do it.”

he pauses.

you look at him. “hajime?”

he tenses at his name, sucking in his bottom lip before answering. “well, i was kind of leaving that part of the plan for later—”

“i didn’t even let you plan the proposal?”

“—but if you think about it,” he continues, already aware of how you’d react, “you just saved me a bunch of anxiety by implying you’d say yes.”

your mouth falls open, hands moving away from his. “i already knew i fucked up our engagement, but i really did fuck up our engagement.”

“you didn’t fuck up our engagement,” hajime breathes out your name as he moves to hold your shoulders.

your head falls forward, landing against his shoulder. “i fucked up our engagement so bad.”

your boyfriend, your sweet boyfriend who always seems to come out of situations calmer than you, snickers, and you hit his chest half-heartedly.

“why are you laughing, oh my god—”

“i’m not laughing—”

“shut the fuck up, you’re laughing—”

“i’m sorry—you just, you didn’t fuck anything up, okay?” his laughter quiets as his arms wrap around you. “i can still propose and keep it a surprise, and i’m pretty sure it’s better you found out while i wasn’t in the middle of the plan, yeah? we just…know your answer already which, seriously, is a relief, so stop beating yourself up for something that wasn’t your fault.”

silence wraps around the both of you again—softer this time. an extra comfort intertwined with hajime’s voice and arms holding you.

moving away to look at him, you let out a deep breath. “okay, but i still feel bad.”

“babe—”

“as if you wouldn’t feel bad,” you retort, which your boyfriend responds to with nothing but a look that says you’re right. “is there anything i can do to make up for it?’

he hums and taps your hips, thumbs fitting perfectly against you. “promise to say yes when i actually propose?”

and this time it’s your turn to laugh, though it’s more a puff of air followed by rolling eyes and a kiss to his cheek. “i can probably promise that.”

little nia luvring comeback Bc my brain Sounds Like a garbage disposal + nails on a chalkboard And only these fictional characters r keeping me going. Hope u all thought of me for a moment the past 2/3 months

@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @momoewn @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @kuroaka @sunaslay @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @spooky1magazine1bread @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @tooruchiiscribs @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist @libbyistired @milkbreadforlife @itsukkie @sirimirihiro @mylahrins @aria-chikage @heyitstial

[taintedtort]

Hello, I was wondering if you can do a haikyu request where the s/o keeps wiping away their kisses with 3 characters but two of them tendou and iwa?

" WIPING KISSES! "

summary. their reaction to you wiping their kisses off

characters. iwaizumi, tendou, akaashi

warnings. gn!reader, none!

a/n. omg yayyy haikyuu request!! picked akaashi for the third :)

IWAIZUMI

☆ he is not playing with you. he decided to be nice and place a sweet peck to your forehead, and you wipe it off? he actually didn’t think anything of it the first time, but then you did it again when he kissed your cheek. that’s twice, but he wanted to make sure you were actually wiping off the kiss, so he placed a peck to your other cheek this time. he scowls when your hand reaches up, and he knows you’re about to wipe that one off too. he snatches up your wrist, though his grip is gentle as he guides your hand back down to your side.

"what? my kisses not good enough for you?"

TENDOU

☆ he sort of took it as a challenge. he’s very affectionate and is always kissing and hugging you, so when you wipe the big smooch he placed on your cheek away, he just does it again. it quickly becomes a game of some sorts, him kissing your skin just for you to wipe it off, and it slowly gets faster and faster. he ends up winning by grabbing your hands and pecking all over your face, causing you to giggle and give up.

"i win! now, it’s my turn for a kiss."

AKAASHI

☆ he knew you were messing with him, and messed with you back. he’s very perceptive and quickly picked up on your little prank and the mischievous glint in your eyes. the first kiss he placed to your temple was quickly wiped away, and it made him pause. thought you might’ve been mad or the kiss was too wet, but the he spotted the twitch of your lips as you try not to laugh. to get back at you, he tilted your chin towards him, slowly leaning in to kiss your lips. however, right when his lips ghosted over yours, he stopped and pulled away. he saw your lidded eyes widen and a pout quickly form on your face, and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

"that’s what you get for wiping my kiss off."

[zmbiesuga]

kisses with some haikyuu boys that have been on my mind lately . . . a tad suggestive in some parts.

kisses with semi are rough and needy. the kisses that have you pressed against the wall. the ones that leave you both breathless as he pulls away to examine your puffy and bruised lips. a small flush of pink beginning to spread across his face as he finds himself going back for more.

kisses with atsumu are tender and playful. kisses he uses to greet you when you come home from a long day, to show you how much his heart missed you while you were away. kisses that, when he pulls away, he makes a dramatic thwap! noise that makes you giggle.

kisses with iwaizumi that are actually a little shy and hesitant. kisses that show the softie he tries so hard to hide through his hard shell. hesitating before going in for your lips because he's so afraid of messing up, the blood rushing to the tip of his ears as he feels you smile into it.

kisses with matsukawa are erratic and playful. kisses that never stop at your lips, he always ends up covering every inch of skin he can find in kisses. exaggerated smooching sounds as his lips touch every piece of ground he can cover.

kisses with tsukishima are slow and dedicated. kisses that have the smart-mouthed blonde quiet for a few moments, soaking up your presence. taking his time and whispering small "i love you"'s before going back at it again. proving your the only person in the world that he loves this much.

[karasimpno]

haikyuu men reacting to you getting followed on your way home

I had something pretty scary happen to me last night, so what better than fictional volleyball men to seek comfort in! (lmao this was actually a year and a half ago, it’s literally been sitting in my drafts that long. happy 1.5k, friends!)

featuring: iwaizumi, bokuto, daichi, sakusa

contains: mention of being followed, fear, comfort, gn!reader

Iwaizumi starts when you slam the door behind you and fall back against it, letting out a heavy exhale. He looks up from where he’s slicing vegetables for dinner with a concerned expression. “Babe?” he asks, concern lacing his voice, not used to you waiting by the door before kissing him hello. He sets down the knife and walks over to you calmly. “Are you okay?”

The lump that forms in your throat threatens to break as you purse your lips together to keep from crying. “No,” you barely manage to whisper, and before the syllable is even off your lips, one of Hajime’s strong hands is on your waist, pulling you closer. His other hand gently but firmly cups your cheek, drawing your gaze to his, all fiery intensity at seeing his love hurt like this. “What happened?” he whispers.

It comes out in a jumbled, rushed mess - “there was this guy - he was following me, I - whenever I would speed up or - he would walk faster. And I tried to get away, but he crossed the street too and - ” you don’t realize it, but you’re trembling, heart racing again at the memory. It ignites something in your boyfriend.

“I’ll fucking kill him,” Hajime growls, and you don’t doubt him for a second. Your resolve crumples at that very moment, and you fall forward into his sturdy chest, his safe, strong arms instantly wrapping around you. “I was just so scared,” you whisper, and Hajime’s thoughts turn to nothing but you, holding you tight and reassuring you: you’re safe.

~

You don’t actually realize how scared you were until you see the look on Bokuto’s face when you walk in the door. 

Big, warm, owlish eyes find yours and something inside your chest heaves, sending a shudder through your body. Your boyfriend is already whipping around the kitchen table before you reach can an arm out to steady yourself on the wall. Usually so strong and buoyant, Bokuto almost startles you with his softness as he pulls you into his embrace. Big, strong arms wrap around you and you allow yourself to collapse into the safety they provide.

“Baby...” he whispers against your forehead from where you’re nestled into his neck. A hand snakes up to tangle in your hair and press you closer against him. His fingers are strong, tense, and you can practically read his thoughts - if only I’d been there...

Bokuto bends down and scoops your legs up, which you eagerly wrap around his waist as you bury your face farther into his neck. He smells like sunscreen and cologne and you could almost cry at how comforting that exact scent is. Supporting you with one hand and using the other to rub comforting patterns up and down your back, he gently carries you back to your shared bedroom, where he holds you for the rest of the evening and lets you know - you’re safe, you’re safe.

~

“Oh my love,” Daichi murmurs, pulling you into his embrace on the couch. His thumb had been gently rubbing over your knuckles as you calmed yourself down enough to tell him what had happened on your way home, but now he can’t keep himself from holding you close. If he had lost you...

“It’s okay, I’m okay,” you say firmly. You’re not sure whether you’re reassuring him or yourself, but feeling his strong arms around you is a hell of a lot better than trying to regulate your own heartbeat. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “I wish I could’ve...” but he trails off. He knows right now is not about him.

Instead, he pulls you fully into his lap and tucks your head under his chin, running reassuring fingertips up and down your arm. You feel safe, like he’ll never let you go. You feel your elevated heart rate receding, and you relax into his embrace, feeling better already. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and the two of you sit in silence like that for a long time. 

At one point, after it feels like you two are essentially part of the couch, Daichi puts his hand on your head, his fingers gently scratching your scalp as a low humming begins to resonate from his chest. You always used to catch him singing under his breath when he cooked for you, and the vibrations from his sternum lull you into an even deeper sense of peace now. You forget your worries and for a moment the world is just you and him.

~

“Come here.”

The words are the first thing you hear when you finally make it back into the safety of your home. If you didn’t know the man any better, you would be sure the words were angry, even aggressive. But no, Sakusa’s voice was just urgent. You exhale shakily, feeling numb, and slip into Sakusa’s quickly-approaching arms.

You had texted him what had happened after hiding in a late-night grocery store to call a ride home instead of walking. Sakusa had demanded to come pick you up but you had insisted on just calling a car instead, because you wanted to be home as soon as possible. Now that you were here, locked in his warm embrace, you just wanted to lay down, the fearful adrenaline leaving your body in a rush.

“Can we just...” you slip out of his arms and barely have the strength to lead him to your shared bedroom and flop onto the mattress, feeling his weight dip onto the comforter alongside you. Intertwining your legs, he takes your face in his hands and rests his forehead against yours, knowing you need peace and comfort right now. His thumb brushes gently across your temples.

“Breathe,” he whispers, and you do, your chest rising and falling in time with his. “I’m right here,” he says, pulling you closer. “I’m not going anywhere, you’re safe, right here.” You don’t even notice the tears forming until they’re dripping onto his shirt, but he just holds you even tighter and grounds you with his touch.

[wonderoustime]

iwaizumi hajime is lowkey the type of boyfriend to dive headfirst with you into anything you express any amount of interest in. you gush to him about your new favorite singer? you're both doing a deep dive into their discography on your next day off. make an offhand remark about wanting to try scuba diving? he's getting you both scuba certified and booking your next vacation on the seaside to try it out. get into a new piece of media? you're both up until 2am, reading countless silly fan theories. want to try your hand at putting on makeup on another person? he's your personal canvas, babe, go ham!

he won't hesitate to do anything... anything to make you happy, even for a second.

hajime is just... the most boyfriend ever

[lyssasdrafts]

— online love

cali! iwaizumi x reader

long distance relationship, bittersweet ending, gn! reader

“you only pass through my city every one in a million seconds in a broken clock.”

long distance with iwaizumi isn’t always easy. staying up until 3am taking to him, sharing every single detail from your day. him getting concerned whenever it takes a while for you to respond. calling you unexpectedly with just “because i missed you…” as an explanation.

“yet we talk like we're living, only miles, only minutes from another just around the block.”

you want to know about what his life there is like, he sends you pictures and tells you about his days. he tells you about learning a new language and what his college classes are like. in turn, you tell him about how that restaurant you used to go shut down recently and how all his old friends are doing; you keep him in touch. he tells you about his friends there and sends the videos he took with them. you smile to yourself a little whenever you see his stories and posts.

“i like california,” he tells you, voice lagging over the phone, “but i miss you more.”

“as i stare at my screen, shining blue and green, all alone in a coffee shop.”

he’s always thinking about you — all the places in california he wants to show you. he wants you to understand why he feels so homesick at times so that maybe you’ll understand his experience more, wants to show you how he met all his friends here and that they can’t compare to you.

you don’t mind the long distance, is what you keep telling yourself. you don’t mind only being able to text or call your boyfriend. you don’t mind not being able to go out on dates. laughing and shying away when your friends tease you about when they’ll get to meet your boyfriend. you miss him, you really do. you’d wished you would’ve had more time with him before he moved.

“i can’t help but imagine what maybe could've happened if you weren’t just an online love.”

he wishes you were here with him, so that maybe it would’ve been less lonely during all those nights he’d stayed up, staring at the sunrise through his broken dorm window and feeling jet lagged.

but your relationship just couldn’t handle the distance — getting into miscommunications and fights resulting in refusing to contact each other. being in two different places and points in your lives where it felt like you couldn’t fit the other into. eventually, you both decide that it’s better to stay friends. maybe things would’ve been different if you were more understanding and if he had been there, but alas, he can only wish you the best.

[ladylumin]

“Did You Mean All Of That?” (Part 2 Of “Iwaizumi Tells You How Much He Loves You ♡”)

[periwnklblu]

baby steps

in which their toddlers fall and they're definitely, totally not helicopter parents

featuring: Bokuto, Atsumu and Iwaizumi

contains: gn! reader, fluff

authors note: slowly attempting to get back into writing. feedback is much appreciated <3

p.s inbox is open for now!

bokuto:

Bokuto held his breath as he watched stubby little legs take shaky step after shaky step. He knows that it's important to not be a helicopter parent and to let his little toddler walk independently more, even if it meant she stumbled here and there. It's a part of growing up.

Yet he can't tear his golden eyes away as she stomps from the living room and toward your figure in the kitchen. Bokuto watched as his little owl gained confidence in her steps, the pitter patter of her sock clad feet becoming quicker. He couldn't help himself, and in the five seconds he tore his gaze away to look for his phone, he heard an oomp, followed by soft whimpers. Before you could even turn around and process what happened, Bokuto was quick to the rescue and cradling the small toddler so delicately in his big, sturdy arms.  “Shh baby girl, it's okay. Daddys got ya, it'll be okay” he whispered as he wiped away her tears

atsumu: 

It was Atsumu's turn to stay in with his son as you had plans with your friends. “It’ll be a piece of cake”, he claimed earlier, dismissing the last minute advice you had for him. Atsumu even went as far as betting that when you came home, your son would be in bed with no new cuts or bruises from playing around. You were skeptical, knowing how much energy your son and husband had, nevertheless alone together.  So you agreed to his little bet, sealing the deal with a kiss to his lips and a smirk on your face. You were looking forward to the free time you’d have when Atsumu lost and had to do the laundry for the week.  

And he was feeling confident. That is, up until his son got bored with his usual toys and decided running around was the next best thing. Atsumu thought none of it, despite the unsteady steps and the close calls with the wall. It wasn’t until he heard a thump that he turned towards the sofa armrest and found a fallen toddler with watering eyes. 

“You’re okay buddy” he cooed as he softly approached the little boy and began rubbing the red spot on his son’s forehead. “This is gonna leave a bruise” he murmured to himself, "but you'll be okay. yer papa's got ya". So much for the bet. 

iwaizuimi

“Haji, quick! She’s walking!” was all Iwaizumi needed to hear before sprinting his way to where you sat in the middle of the living room. Your arms outstretched as your daughter takes one wobbly step, followed by another. Haijme couldn’t believe how fast she was growing up, but really he couldn't believe how much more love he could feel when he thought his heart had reached capacity. Just as she was approaching your arms, her legs gave out. Before she could even touch the ground, and even register that she had fallen, Hajime had already swooped in and hoisted her up into his arms. “You did great, baby girl, I'm so proud”.