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Iwaizumi X Reader - Blog Posts
SEMI, SUGAWARA, osamu, IWAIZUMI, sakusa, ARAN, USHIJIMA, tsukishima, konoha, KAGEYAMA, kiyoko, KITA, KYOTANI, aone, saeko
What da hail I got so busy 😭 I wanna write but school hit me like a truck I wanna finish that tetsuro fic😓😓😓😓 grbrgrgrggrgrr
Hsjdjwjdjw thank you!! Tbh I see Iwa in NU as well omgsbdjkwwjwj I would love to see him in the NU Bulldogs uniform 😭 sorry st benilde but your uniforms look like shit 😔 they look like leprechauns. Actually you know what, I think Iwa should be in NU talaga WHAHAHSHHSD
Big brain moment, Lintik by brownman revival with Filo!Iwaizumi 😭 I think papuntang Benilde to si Iwa WHAHSHAHSHD I love the idea of La Sallean Iwa
"Lintik na pagibig"
— Iwaizumi 2024
(For non-filos, lintik means lightning, and pag-ibig means love, so literally the translation would be lightning love, but lintik is also used as an exclamation)
Love takes many forms. Sometimes it's a slow burn, gently eating at your heart and soul. Or maybe it can come naturally, you see it coming and it just happens. But Iwaizumi didn't expect you to come into his life like lightning.
It was electrifying. Seeing your soft smile sent shocks straight into his heart. But lightning, by nature's design, left as fast as it came. Maybe it was fate, meeting for a brief period. After all, lightning leaves traces. One strike could start a fire that consumes a whole forest.
That's exactly what you did to him, and he's not just gonna let you go so easily.
OOOOOOOOOIIIIIII!!!!! PINOY!!!!!!! 🇵🇭 ❤️💥🔥 PINOOOOOOOOOYYYY!!!!! 🇵🇭❤️💥❤️🔥🔥 PINOYYYYY 💥💥🔥❤️OIYYYYYY!!!!!! 🇵🇭❤️❤️❤️❤️💥🔥💥🇵🇭🇵🇭💥💥 PILIPINAAAAASSSS!!!!! ❤️🔥🇵🇭💥💥💥 PINOOOOOOYYYY PRIIIIIDEEEE!!!!!!❤️🔥🇵🇭🔥💥🇵🇭❤️🔥❤️💥❤️ LAABAAAAAAN PILIPINAAAAASSSS!!!! ❤️🇵🇭❤️🔥🔥💥❤️🔥💥 AMIINNNN ANG WEST PHILIPPINE SEA!!!!!! 🇵🇭❤️🔥❤️KWEK-KWEK💥❤️FISHBALL💥❤️ISAW💥❤️🔥KARE-KARE❤️🔥💥 SUMAN 🇵🇭LECHON 🇵🇭SINIGANG 🇵🇭 ADOBO 🇵🇭BULALO 🇵🇭 TORTANG TALONG 🇵🇭 TINOLA 🇵🇭 BICOL EXPRESS 🇵🇭 TURON 🇵🇭 KARE KARE 🇵🇭 DAING 🇵🇭RED HORSE🇵🇭 EMPERADOR🇵🇭 TANDUAY🇵🇭 GINEBRA 🇵🇭 SAN MIGUEL🇵🇭❤️🔥 BARONG TAGALOG 🔥💥🇵🇭 RIZAL 💥❤️🔥BONIFACIO🇵🇭🔥 LAPU LAPU 🇵🇭 JUAN LUNA💥🔥 MANNY PACQUIAO!! 🔥💥🇵🇭🥊❤️🔥 PILIPINS NUMBAWAN 1️⃣❤️🔥🇵🇭💥
I AINT TISOY!!, IM PINOY!!!!! ❤️🔥🇵🇭🔥RAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!🌋💥🦅🦅🦅
Ps. I'm still working on the Paki-sabi fic, making banners is hard😭😭😭 giraffic design is NOT my pashun😔
Big brain moment, Lintik by brownman revival with Filo!Iwaizumi 😭 I think papuntang Benilde to si Iwa WHAHSHAHSHD I love the idea of La Sallean Iwa
"Lintik na pagibig"
— Iwaizumi 2024
(For non-filos, lintik means lightning, and pag-ibig means love, so literally the translation would be lightning love, but lintik is also used as an exclamation)
Love takes many forms. Sometimes it's a slow burn, gently eating at your heart and soul. Or maybe it can come naturally, you see it coming and it just happens. But Iwaizumi didn't expect you to come into his life like lightning.
It was electrifying. Seeing your soft smile sent shocks straight into his heart. But lightning, by nature's design, left as fast as it came. Maybe it was fate, meeting for a brief period. After all, lightning leaves traces. One strike could start a fire that consumes a whole forest.
That's exactly what you did to him, and he's not just gonna let you go so easily.
OOOOOOOOOIIIIIII!!!!! PINOY!!!!!!! 🇵🇭 ❤️💥🔥 PINOOOOOOOOOYYYY!!!!! 🇵🇭❤️💥❤️🔥🔥 PINOYYYYY 💥💥🔥❤️OIYYYYYY!!!!!! 🇵🇭❤️❤️❤️❤️💥🔥💥🇵🇭🇵🇭💥💥 PILIPINAAAAASSSS!!!!! ❤️🔥🇵🇭💥💥💥 PINOOOOOOYYYY PRIIIIIDEEEE!!!!!!❤️🔥🇵🇭🔥💥🇵🇭❤️🔥❤️💥❤️ LAABAAAAAAN PILIPINAAAAASSSS!!!! ❤️🇵🇭❤️🔥🔥💥❤️🔥💥 AMIINNNN ANG WEST PHILIPPINE SEA!!!!!! 🇵🇭❤️🔥❤️KWEK-KWEK💥❤️FISHBALL💥❤️ISAW💥❤️🔥KARE-KARE❤️🔥💥 SUMAN 🇵🇭LECHON 🇵🇭SINIGANG 🇵🇭 ADOBO 🇵🇭BULALO 🇵🇭 TORTANG TALONG 🇵🇭 TINOLA 🇵🇭 BICOL EXPRESS 🇵🇭 TURON 🇵🇭 KARE KARE 🇵🇭 DAING 🇵🇭RED HORSE🇵🇭 EMPERADOR🇵🇭 TANDUAY🇵🇭 GINEBRA 🇵🇭 SAN MIGUEL🇵🇭❤️🔥 BARONG TAGALOG 🔥💥🇵🇭 RIZAL 💥❤️🔥BONIFACIO🇵🇭🔥 LAPU LAPU 🇵🇭 JUAN LUNA💥🔥 MANNY PACQUIAO!! 🔥💥🇵🇭🥊❤️🔥 PILIPINS NUMBAWAN 1️⃣❤️🔥🇵🇭💥
I AINT TISOY!!, IM PINOY!!!!! ❤️🔥🇵🇭🔥RAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!🌋💥🦅🦅🦅
Ps. I'm still working on the Paki-sabi fic, making banners is hard😭😭😭 giraffic design is NOT my pashun😔
COMPARING HAND SIZES — ft. osamu miya, atsumu miya, akaashi keiji, iwaizumi hajime
warnings — reader/you is implied to be shorter because of hand size difference, also let names (baby & love)
⨳OSAMU was confused as to why you wanted to compare hand sizes. you’ve held hands a million times so you both knew your hands were smaller. “do you just wanna hold my hand?” he asked with a skeptical look across his face. “maybe, maybe not.” you shrugged with a cheeky smile. letting out a sigh the man held up one of his hands and you pressed yours against it immediately. “would’ve never have guess your hands were bigger,” you joke before he interlocks your fingers. “yeah i bet,” osamu says sarcastically, rolling his eyes before leaning in and planting a quick kiss to your lips.
⨳ATSUMU would’ve suggested it not you. he thinks he’s so slick about it too. “baby let me see how different our hand sizes are,” he sort of asks before grabbing your hand and putting it right on his. “tsumu are you being serious right now?” you scoff when you feel him pull your hand to his. “you’ve got small hands,” he notes out loud as if you weren’t already aware. “good observation tsumu.” you roll your eyes pulling your hand away. “you’re no fun,” he pouts from beside you. without saying anything you grab his closest hand and interlock your fingers. “look we can hold hands,” you say holding up your hands. atsumu smiles at your hands and leans in to kiss your cheek.
⨳AKAASHI knew you were up to something when you asked for his hand. “why?” he asked cautiously as he held out his hand to you. “comparing hand size,” you responded while putting your palms on his. “wait, lowkey we have the same hand size.” you giggle at the sight. akaashi furrowed his eyebrows and blinked at your hands. two different sizes—completely different. “you think you’re funny.” he told you as he got a firm grip on your hand and puked you close to him. “completely different hand sizes love,” akaashi added before kissing the top of your forehead. “nice try though”
⨳IWAIZUMI always feeds into your antics and lets you do whatever. he can tolerate your nonsense because it’s second nature to him. “why are we comparing hand sizes like we’re in junior high?” he asked while holding his hand up to you. “i need an excuse to hold your hand.” you admit while placing your pal on his proudly. the brunette’s eyebrows are drawn together in confusion for a moment. “you don’t need an excuse,” he tells you and you smile. “i know i know, let me have fun for once,” you dismiss before interlocking your fingers with his. “fine,” he shakes his head lightly before kissing the top of your head.
reblogs are appreciated
How long are Haikyuu boys’ dick in inches?
A/N:This has been sitting in my drafts for almost a year lmaooo let me get rid of it
Seijoh Four
Iwaizumi + Oikawa + Hanamaki + Matsukawa
Oikawa’s dick is so pretty. It’s long slender but definitely packs a punch. He is around 7 inches. His dick is so smooth and feel like absolute heaven sliding into you. The tip of his picklocks so pink and pretty especially when its dripping with pre-cum. He always keeps the hair around it short because he likes a neat clean cut. This man has an entire set he uses to shave and trim the hair. He likes to cockwarm your mouth with his dick. He just get a thrill off seeing you hot and ready practically begging him to fuck your mouth. Once he’s fucking into your mouth there’s no stopping him. He wants you to take all 7 inches of him until he’s spurting warm cum down your throat.
Hanamaki’s dick is everything. It’s so pretty and veiny His dick is around 6.5 inches and he definitely knows how to use it. This man could have you shaking with just one stroke. He’s so cocky about his dick because he knows it’s pretty and he knows he can make you cum. This tip of his dick is so thick and pretty, he can fuck you with just the tip and have you creaming.If you’re wondering, yes the drapes match the curtains. Hanamaki definitely doesn’t shave as much as he should but it’s not an unruly mess but, it’s a pink forest down there. He definitely fucks you nice and slow with it because he want you to feel every inch of him. He needs to see the way your eyes roll back every time he dips the tip of his dick inside of you just to tease you because we all know he likes to be a little tease.
Iwaizumi’s dick is so thick and long. This man has a veiny dick that looks so delicious and it will definitely stretch you out. He’s around 7.5 inches. At first he definitely had some unruly hair but Oikawa made him buy trimming tools with his and now he keeps it down to a decent cut. He doesn’t like the bald look. The tip of his dick is so thick and pink and practically always drooling with precut. He’s so thick and long he doesn’t mind having to hold your hips in pace because he knows how hard it can be to take all of him. Don’t expect him to go soft on you though because he shows no mercy, his dick is big and he’ll show you exactly how he puts it to use
Matsukawa’s dick shouldn’t even need an explanation. He’s so thick and big its almost unbearable…almost. This man is around 9 inches maybe more. He is definitely touching the cervix without even being fulling in. He’s so thick and veiny and has god sent sex skills. The way this man can leave you trembling and begging for more without even fully having his dick inside of you is like magic. Matsukawa is cocky because he knows his dick is big and he doesn’t need anyone to tell him that. He is an absolute menace. He likes seeing your face scrunch up when he’s stretching your hole. He likes to make you look at yourself while he fucks you just so you can see how fuck out of it you get because of his dick so of course that means mirror sex.
When He Falls Asleep on You (Haikyuu!! Headcanons)
*GIFs not mine*
A/N: Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m back to my same old spiel of “it’s been a while” and “I’m so sorry I haven’t posted in (insert time) days!” Truth is, I just haven’t had the time to write like I know some of y’all haven’t had the time to read. However, I’m happy to be back, even if it is just for this one post. I hope y’all are doing good, and enjoy!
Word count: 1005
Bokuto Koutarou:
While his falling asleep on you is usually an accident (considering it’s much easier to admire you while he’s awake), he certainly always makes the best of the situation.
He nods off and his head slumps to your shoulder and instinctively you want to push him away because you just know him drooling is an inevitability but, no, a sleeping Bokuto is an adorable Bokuto.
He mumbles in his sleep. You’ve learned that from experience.
Black and white hairs tickle your neck but you don’t dare to scratch partly because one of his arms is already wrapped around you locking your own against your sides and partly because waking him would be a crime upon nature.
It only tickles for a few moments anyway because in a matter of seconds he’s curling in deeper, snuggling his forehead against your throat while his legs clamber into your lap.
It’s awkward. It’s hot. It’s not quite a boyfriend cuddling his girlfriend and more so a koala straddling a tree branch.
But it’s a classic Bokuto cuddle-bordering-on-suffocation situation so you settle in for what will be an awkward, hot bus ride.
And eventually you lean your head on his and fall asleep because, eh, why not.
Konoha totally has pictures that he sells to Bokuto later
Tsukishima Kei:
More often than not, when Tsukishima Kei falls asleep on the bus, he goes full turtle.
Blond head perched back on the top of the bus seat, headphones around his neck while his mouth hangs open in a soundless snore. This dude is usually conked.
(He’s learned to sit near the front of the bus lest he risk another session of “What can Kageyama and Tanaka throw into Tsukishima’s mouth?”)
So when his head lolls to the side and rests ever so delicately on the edge of your shoulder, you freeze like a deer in headlights.
This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, so don’t you dare screw it up.
However… his glasses press really hard into the bony part of your shoulder.
At first, you try to suffer through the pain, taking timed, measured breaths in through the nose and out through the mouth.
Then you contemplate humming to distract yourself, but you drop that strategy the instant he twitches on your first note.
It’s too much. Come on, there’s no way there isn’t a bruise there by now!
The constant digging of plastic into your bone is insufferable at this point. You needed to eradicate the problem if this rare event was to continue.
You inch your right hand up ever so slowly, keeping your breathing steady so as to not frighten the flighty creature resting upon you.
You turn your head just a touch and your chin brushes the hair atop his head, but he doesn’t disturb one bit at the slight tousle--thank God.
With two pinching fingers you grab the frames and remove them with the delicate touch of butterfly wings.
Almost there… almost… have them...
Then Tsukishima stirs.
“Screw it.” You yank the glasses away and drop them into your lap before returning your hand to the side of his face.
“YN, what are you-” he cuts off in a grunt as you shove his head back onto your shoulder.
“Shhhh.”
“YN.” His voice is muffled from his face being smushed into your shirt.
“Shhhh. Don’t ruin it.”
“YN-”
“Escape is futile.” You pat his cheek as the rest of his body squirms like a fish caught in a net. “Accept your fate, Tsukki.”
Iwaizumi Hajime:
Sticky. Sweaty. Warm.
You have no doubt that as soon as Iwaizumi wakes up, you will have to peel your shirt from his face like a sticker.
But you figure he deserves the rest. He played a great game and is understandably worn out.
And you’d be damned if you didn’t want to play pillow for him from time to time.
No, he’s not your boyfriend, but you certainly wish he was.
One of his hands fell onto your thigh the second he drifted off and your own hovers over it, an eagle waiting to land.
God, he’s so warm. Like a personal heater. The bus was pretty cold too considering Iwaizumi had the bright idea of leaving your seat’s window open for whatever reason.
The first time you complained about the cold, he offered you his jacket. However, two seconds after his offer your cheeks were burning enough to warm the rest of your body so refused.
And now here you were, almost losing consciousness yourself on account of how comfortable you’d grown in this position.
A nap… surely a nap wouldn’t hurt.
Today’s game had asked for a five a.m. arrival at the school, one seven hour bus ride down to the opponent, and one returning. It was understandable that you were exhausted yourself.
The eagle landed and your drooping eyes slipped closed. Iwaizumi’s hair--so soft--felt like the perfect cushion as you slipped into warm, deep sleep.
The soft pressure on Iwaizumi’s head allowed for a small smile to grow on his face.
Fucking finally.
Just one eye peered open and though he couldn’t see much, your hand resting flat on his just so happened to be the perfect sight.
He waited until your breathing truly evened out before moving, slowly flipping his hand palm up and intertwining your fingers between his.
His eyes began to blur once more and he gave your hand a gentle squeeze before giving in to the tiredness completely, grinning at the soft sigh you released.
Yes. Finally.
He Sends You a Nude (Haikyuu!! Fake Texts)
(Ace Version)
A/N: Guess who’s going to helllll😙 I spent way too long on this, and my search history rly didn’t need that kinda damage, so ur gonna have to settle for this. Enjoy!
When He’s Your Fellow Actor (Haikyuu!! Headcanons)
*GIFs not mine*
BNHA Version
A/N: Good Lordy I went off on Yamaguchi’s… Goddamn. Anyways, I know I haven’t been active like at all lately, but I have nothing new to tell you. Life has just been… hectic lately. Nothing new. Anyways, let’s just call this a seriously late celebration for 800 followers! Seriously, thank you all so much, and I hope you enjoy these headcanons as a show of gratitude!
Word count: 1423
Iwaizumi Hajime:
The “Hero-Villain but you’re a couple in real life” trope.
You both met and got together while filming the show.
Iwa’s the hero, you’re the villain
The fans of the show totally shipped you two from the first episode, but y’all were really new and awkward around each other at that point in time.
Then you both saw all the ship names and edits and were like damn we look hot together “Eh, let’s give it a shot.”
Cut to y’all falling in love and accidentally giving each other lovey-dovey eyes during filming (the directors have to reshoot the scenes because “You’re supposed to hate each other, come on guys!!”)
Yes, yes, there is a scene where you have to fight each other.
You legitimately punch Iwaizumi smack dab in the face on accident and freak the fuck out.
“OH FUCK, HAJIME ARE YOU ALIVE?!”
Yeah, it hurt like a bitch, but he sees how concerned you are and does that tough guy thing where he pretends like it was nothing.
“Nah, I’m fine.” When the fuck did you get so strong?!
You know he’s lying, so you capture his face in your palms and kiss his cheek tenderly.
“Does it feel better now?”
Oh helllll yeah. “Mmm, not really. Try again.”
*smooch*
“It still kinda hurts. Another.”
*smooch*
“Better. One more.”
Just as you lean in to give him one last peck, he grabs your chin and turns you to face him head on before capturing your lips in a deep kiss.
You’re both lost in the feeling of each other and Iwaizumi can barely feel the pain on his face anymore (but he’s totally gonna use this little incident against you from now on).
“Hey guys, we’re still shooting a scene you know.”
It’s delayed because both your lips are puffy and you both look blissed out.
Long story short, after plenty of messages, letters, and tweets from fans, the show makes your character turn good so y’all can become a couple in the show as well. (hehe, crowd-pleasers. Ya gotta love ‘em.)
That blooper went viral btw.
Kuroo Tetsurou:
The “best friends on and off the stage” trope.
First of all, the fucking inside jokes you two have.
Yeah yeah, the fans shipped you and all that crap, but you two were just friends.
Pfft, yeah right.
Neither of you are the main character, but your wild actions and sarcastic comments on screen just made the audiences fall in love.
The chemistry between you two and the easy flow of conversation made people believe in true, destined love.
All the haughty taughty fans are like “Yeah they’re totally great together but nobody should pressure them into dating otherwise it’ll ruin their relationship uwu!!🥺🥺💔💔” (then these fuckers turn around and write fanfiction like it’s nobody’s business.)
You were legit friends, but the way people viewed you was beginning to make things awkward.
“Haha, here’s another tweet about how we should be together.” Kuroo’s nervously laughing while watching your facial expression for the tiniest sign that you liked it as much as he did while looking at his phone.
“Damn, that’s funny.” You laugh is just as artificially forced and Kuroo observes your face with wide, amazed eyes like Oop, there it is.
I mean, what did you expect? You two have been friends for years, of course he can read you like a book. A book he never wants to put down. Ever.
“Wouldn’t it be funny if the writers took this seriously and actually made us a coup-”
He interrupts your anxious rambling with a kiss.
It’s just a quick peck, and you gasp in surprise after it happens. Then you smile softly and pull him back in for more.
Not even a month later, it’s official. You two were caught making out in a toilet paper fort at Walmart by fans. (I honestly don’t know ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)
ANYWAYS, after you two are outed and shizz, you don’t even care to hide your love, just being connected to each other by the hip everywhere y’all go when you’re not shooting.
I know what you’re thinking, and you’re absolutely right. Kuroo does interrupt your scenes by sprinting in like a maniac on the loose and slapping a kiss smack dab on your lips while the cameras are still rolling.
(It drives the directors up the walls, but the fans love it.)
Yamaguchi Tadashi (this one is umm... a lil 🥵, and long):
The “couple on the show but awkwardly have a crush on each other in real life” trope.
Even though your relationship is a little rocky in real life, this just makes your capability for passion on the screen even larger.
You both make up for the uncomfortableness behind the cameras when they’re rolling.
Firstly, there’s a script, so neither of you are forced to think on your feet.
Secondly, you’re both experienced actors. But that doesn’t mean you’re great people-people in real life.
Your characters started as two teens falling in love in high school, then moving on to college together.
This required a lot of chemistry between the two of you, but it was hard to have it both on and off the set, so you settled for doing your jobs best.
Of course, when the fans found out you two were all blushy and shy around each other in real life, they went berserk.
It was all like: *posts a picture of you and Yamaguchi blushing* “Look at these two fucking cinnamon rolls🥺 They’re so cute together in (the show), but look how shy these nerds are together in real life. How???”
Yeah, so umm, y’all were feelin’ the pressure.
Then came the scene.
Of course, you two had kiss scenes before. With a storyline that deep, of course that was gonna happen.
But the writers really whammied you two with this one.
It was a dirty scene 👀
Of course the directors were gonna do that thing where they had architecture and other shit cover up the no-no squares, but still!
You kept telling yourself you were a professional and that you could do this no biggie. But umm…
Jesus FUCK!
Who’d’ve thought Yamaguchi would be that fucking bUiLt.
You distantly remember him saying something about playing volleyball, but GodDAMN
So yeah, y’all get it on.
First he kisses you, as instructed.
Then he lays you down on the bed gently, as instructed.
Then he unclips your bra, as instructed.
Then his pupils flare,...
Rebellion Located.
His hands crawl up your sides as he begins to nibble on your lip.
Your hands tangle into his olive-colored tufts, tugging and pulling as he grunts into your mouth.
His long fingers run over your skin in all the right places, and you want more.
“More, Tadashi.”
“CUT!”
The director hops out of his chair and calls for a break. Other workers begin to bumble around the set, adjusting lighting for the next scene, rearranging objects, and writing on clipboards.
The world around you is suddenly spinning while you’re still trapped in the moment. The fake moment.
Yamaguchi still hovers over you, looking just as frazzled as you felt.
For a second he leans closer to your face once more, then he pulls away like you burned him.
He’s rubbing the back of his neck and blushing, and your cheeks are on fire.
“Well that was um…”
“Yeah,” you nod in agreement breathlessly.
Suddenly, he gets up and hands you your previously flung bra and shirt, averting his gaze while you redress.
While his back faces you, he hesitantly says your name.
“Yeah?”
“D-do you want to g-go on a date sometime?”
…
Safe to say, months later you two were revealed as a couple, just as the episode aired.
It didn’t take long for the Sherlock Holmes of your fanbases to put two and two together and figure out just how the relationship went from 0-100 in a matter of days.
… Yeah, you two will never live that down. Everyone shoves it in your faces any chance they get. But at least they all love you together!
Innocent Misunderstanding (Iwaizumi x Reader)
*GIF not mine*
Summary: Last night, it was all fun and games until Iwaizumi accidentally pushed you too far. To be fair, you did underestimate his strength, so it wasn’t completely his fault. That didn’t prevent you from limping to school, though.
A/N: Same old, same old. Got an idea and wrote it in the a.m. It was just a little idea, so it’s really short. I do hope y’all like it tho!
Word count: 619
“Woah, YN, you’re walking funny! You two must have had a wild time last night.”
“Shut it, Shittykawa.” You flip off the man while your boyfriend tightens his supporting arm around your waist and gives his teammate a withering glare. The dull aching in your legs is still painful enough for you to grip your boyfriend’s shoulder a little harder than necessary.
“You’re so mean, Iwa!” The captain’s mocking whine echoes down the hall while he walks away, and girls slowly flock to his side with every step. After his back disappears in the distance, Iwaizumi grunts at your deathly grip.
“Jesus, YN, unclench a little, will you?” He desperately tries to wiggle away from your claws and you dig them in harder just to spite him.
“Stop moving, it still hurts you know.” His face grows guilty at your grumble but he remains silent, guiding you slowly to your desk. Small twinges of discomfort arise with every step you take, the pain originating from your pelvis and traveling downward. You weren’t sore, why would you be, it was just the fact that every time your feet touched the ground with even the smallest amount of pressure, your legs would start to tremble and tingle. You sighed in relief when your newborn-giraffe imitation ends with you collapsing elegantly into your chair.
“How are you feeling?” Iwaizumi takes his assigned seat next to your own and stares at you with worry.
“Like there’s a pain in my ass now.” You weren’t lying; the ache had now transferred into your tailbone. Shit, why did he have to push me so hard? I knew we should have stopped before it got really rough. His hand drops on your thigh and comfortingly massages the skin there. Meanwhile, his olive green eyes are filled with unease, and you decide to put the blame game on pause for a second. “I’m okay,” you avoid his gaze as a blush grows on your face, “it doesn’t hurt as much this morning.”
“Good.” His pearly whites flash at you while he gives you a rare Iwa-grin. It was beautiful and blinding, and so endangered that you only caught one once every two weeks. That’s exactly why it flustered you enough to restart the game.
“I told you we shouldn’t have jumped on the bed last night, though.” Leaning back in your chair, you busy yourself with picking at your fingernails disinterestedly while Mount Iwaizumi slowly prepares to erupt.
“You’re the one who started the pillow fight!” The volleyball player frustratedly whisper-shouts at you. The rough hand on your thigh squeezes irritably and you slap your own on top of it, pressing it down to prevent any more movements.
“Well you’re the one who pushed me off the mattress!” The repartee ends when your boyfriend clenches his jaw and seethes silently, receiving dirty looks from you and returning them with ease.
The squeaks of someone’s tennis shoes entering the classroom are ignored in favor of you both opening your mouths once more, armed with new retorts.
“So, long night huh?” A smug voice sounds behind you, and the already high tensions burst through the roof. Thankfully, both sides of the war finally agree on a single reaction.
“Shut up, Oikawa!”
Misleading Marks (Iwaizumi x Reader/Soulmate AU)
*GIF not mine*
Summary: Your soulmark is a wonderfully misleading pain in the tuchus. Luckily, your hunk of a soulmate makes it all worth it.
A/N: Started off rough, but I swear the ending is better. Love me some good old soulmate aus. Enjoy!
Word count: 1803
When your soulmark first popped up on your wrist, you adored its simplicity. It had come to you on the morning of your fifteenth birthday, and you couldn’t help but admire it the whole day. Even through school, your teachers had eventually given up on gathering your attention. You were otherwise occupied with worshiping the blatant statement on your wrist. “Hi, my name is Oikawa,” it read, and you kept rubbing your thumb over it, eventually developing a nervous habit from the act. You couldn’t help it; it was comforting. Knowing someone was out there, perfect for you. And easily detectable thanks to their words. You felt blessed.
That mindset on your soulmark didn’t last long. Soon, you attended Karasuno High School and made new friends. Friends who had more exciting soulmarks. For example, Kiyoko had the cheesy pickup line “Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?” inscribed on the inside of her forearm. While she found it less than satisfactory and often cursed fate for giving her a pervert for a soulmate, you thought it was rather endearing. The person meant for her seemed playful and fun, and you begin to think of your own soulmate differently. Insecurities began to run through your mind more and more every day. Even Sugawara, another friend of yours, had a cute phrase. “Do you have candles for all that cake?” Adorable. A little straightforward, but you liked it nonetheless.
Just to be clear, you adored your friends, and you were happy they had gotten such fun soulmates. But to be honest, their marks made you jealous, and at times you would stare at your own and wonder if you were destined for simplicity like that for the rest of your life. It was, after all, your soulmate’s first words to you. But before you could judge, you wanted to meet him. Oikawa, your apparent soulmate.
~~~
It was your third year of high school before you ever heard his name aloud. While helping Kiyoko manage a practice volleyball game at Aoba Johsai, you finally heard the name you had been waiting for for three years.
“Oikawa, so glad you’re back, you pain in the ass. Now come out here and set for us!” The spikey-haired ace of the opposing team demanded with admittedly attractive folded arms.
“You’re so mean, Iwaizumi! Can’t you take it a little easy on me? I am injured, after all,” the brunet whined. The rest of the argument faded away as you dazed off in wonder. At first, your eyes were still stuck on the ace, but you began to feel guilty and pulled them away to stare at the newcomer. At your soulmate. He was hot so was that “Iwaizumi”, tall, and playful, many traits you admired in a guy. But he just seemed… disappointing for some reason. He seemed wrong. You chalked it up to your past predictions of him being lame. After all, you couldn’t let feelings like those get in your way. You were closer than ever to meeting the man on your wrist; Kiyoko had even given you a pointed look, which you had shaken off. Meeting with him would have to wait till after the game.
~~~
Whelp, the game had ended fairly quickly, but damn did Oikawa have an arm. It was like a rocket, and you couldn’t help but compare it to the ace’s on his own team. You know, for strength-wise comparison’s sake, totally not anything else. Totally. Anyways, after the teams thanked each other and you helped Kiyoko clean up the stray water bottles, you asked her for advice on how to talk to him.
“Just go do it,” she shrugged, her voice flat and matter-of-fact-like. When you had first met her, the emotionless she seemed to have irked you at first. Now that you had known her for years and become her best friend, however, you knew she cared deep down. Her tone when she spoke just never showed it, and you were finally used to it. What you were not okay with, now, was her terrible advice.
“Seriously? That’s it, that’s all you got? ‘Just go do it’? Dude, you’re killing me here.” She sent you a withering glare at your whining and you froze at the sight. Oh right, she was friggin’ terrifying at times, too.
“It’s now or never, YN.” Okay, that one got to you. She was right, this could be your last chance, or your first meeting with your soulmate. Only you could decide. Flashing her a grateful smile, you rushed out a “thank you” before jogging to the other bench on the court where he was packing up equipment as well.
“H-hey, um, I’m YN,” you stammered and bit your lip bitterly at the embarrassing first words he definitely had on his body now.
With an arrogant glint in his eyes, he smiled back charmingly at you and smoothly replied, “Nice to meet you. I’m Oikawa.” Uh oh. Those aren’t the right words. Now you have an itty bitty problem.
“Oh.” That’s all you could manage to sputter.
“Oh?” he questioned cheekily, taking a step toward you. You stumbled back at his advancement while laughing nervously. Visibly confused at your reaction, Oikawa furrowed his brows while he halted himself in place a foot or two away from you.
Finally having enough breathing room, you shake your head to clear it. An action which you soon come to regret as you seemed to have lost your filter in the process. You question him thoughtlessly, “Do you have any siblings?” Thankfully, he doesn’t appear to take offense. Oikawa was smarter than he looked, as he caught on quickly.
“Not any that don’t already have soulmates,” he answered pityingly, eyes softening at the words on your wrist.
Swiftly, you tug your mark behind your back and wave your other hand dismissively. “That’s okay. Umm I have to go now, bye.” Without another word, you hustle out of the room and out to the bus waiting to return to Karasuno, not actually sad but more frustrated at the sympathetic eyes that trailed after you.
Stomping angrily up the bus steps, you sat down harshly in the seat next to Kiyoko, who questioned you silently. You only shook your head in response, your mouth setting into a hard line. She didn’t say anything but grabbed your hand and squeezed it comfortingly. Lips quirking up at the action, you squeeze back gratefully before shifting around in your seat and falling asleep to the bus ride’s gentle lulling.
~~~
Seeing him again made your heart pang slightly. It was the first official tournament of Karasuno’s volleyball season, the Interhigh Preliminaries. You were alone in your section of stands, and happened to be one of the few people here to support your school. But still, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to the other court.
There, Aoba Johsai was playing. No, they were winning, and by a landslide at that. Oikawa was smirking, but you figured that was his normal facial expression at this point. However, he wasn’t the one who had caught your attention right off the bat. It was that damn brown-haired ace again, and watching his muscles flex everywhere right before he spiked was… thrilling in a way. Your eyes pledged loyalty to his biceps, and you weren’t one to go back on your promises. At least, until you had to pee. Nature called, and you really had to pick up.
After doing your business and washing up, you pushed your way out of the bathroom and waved your hands around like an enthusiastic nutcase to air-dry.
“Damn empty paper tow-” your bitter mumbling was interrupted by a voice that was evidently more familiar to your heart than to your brain. Giving in to its demands, you subconsciously followed the sound while simultaneously eavesdropping on the conversation.
“Why don’t you just ask her out then, Shittykawa?”
“You know I hate that nickname, Iwa. And plus, I’ve only talked to her once before at that practice game against my annoying prodigy.”
“So what? You’ve asked out girls before without even knowing their names.” Their voices were getting closer, and just as you step around the corner into your hallway, you make eye contact with that panty-dropper of an ace- oh shit, where’d that come from? He looks back to his friend- is that Oikawa?- before continuing, “Just walk over to her and say,” the volleyball player halted his words before directing them at you in a mockingly shrill voice and imitating, “Hi, my name is Oikawa.” A shock flowed through your system and you tensed up at the words. Oh, hello there, not Oikawa. You knew you should respond. But even though you didn’t want to dishonor yourself and your cow, your jaw felt wired shut. Your mouth, however, got a little impatient at your lame excuse.
“I thought your name was Iwaizumi.” Your soulmate stopped in his tracks and stared at you in amazement. Yeah buddy, now you know how I feel.
Oikawa’s whines began to fade away along with the world around you as you gawk at the ace, but that was nothing new. You zone out all the time while staring creepily at people, it’s just that now it’s socially acceptable because he’s your soulmate.
His olive orbs are captivating, but not enough to distract you from the awkward silence that begins to ensue. It was painfully quiet, and after a while you tried to escape his eyes and look away only for your eyes to stop at his broad chest, disappointingly covered in an open white and turquoise jacket. Sadly, his jersey resided underneath. You know, lately I’ve heard that going around shirtless is all the rage nowadays. Wanna be more trendy? Hey, maybe next time you could say that out loud. Soulmates were supposed to love each other implicitly, so he might actually listen, right? You're halted in your mental rambling when Iwaizumi begins to chuckle, causing a wrinkle in his shirt. That wouldn’t be a problem if he just took it off. Suddenly, you have to dropkick yourself out of your daze when he begins to speak, figuring you should probably start learning how to listen to others now that you found your “other half.”
“Sorry you almost thought you were stuck with Shittykawa here for a second.” He gestures to that one guy standing next to him while glancing down at your soulmark. Without another thought, you begin to smile widely at him, reveling in the mischievous twinkle in his catlike eyes while savoring the lovable grin on his face. Fate, you sneaky bastard. You win this round.
Hiiiii! Omg I love this blog. I have another request, I know you’ve done generic shut you up with a kiss hcs but what about real ones?? Like during an argument and they kiss you maybe a little steamy 👉👈 Can it please include Atsumu, Suna, Mattsun, Iwaizumi, Osamu/Sakusa? 💙
HAIKYUU BOYS KISSING YOU DURING AN ARGUMENT
characters — timeskip!miya atsumu, matsukawa issei, miya osamu, iwaizumi hajime, suna rintarō
a/n — warning ⚠️ suggestive and some rough making out/name calling [i use “baby girl” in mattsuns] not rly angsty even tho there’s talk of arguments! tysm for this request, i love writing steamy make outs YAY & the character flavour!!! pls enjoy <3 tysm vale @iwasumi for proof reading for me ily
☾ ATSUMU the reason youd both been arguing had been long forgotten, but you were both too stubborn to back down as you stood in front of each other, “you’re a fucking asshole atsumu.” “don’t act like yer much better prince/ss.” “oh, fuck off miya.” he chuckled dryly, his eyes darkening as he approached you slowly, your feet carrying you backwards until your back met the wall as his hand came to rest beside your head, his lips ghosting yours “that’s not ma fuckin’ name.” you would’ve whimpered if his lips didn’t smash against yours instead, his bigger body slamming you back against the wall as his hands harshly groped the flesh of your ass, feeling your knees buckle as his tongue roughly slid against yours before he sucked it into his mouth “‘ts-‘tsumu.” “hngh, fuck—there ya go baby, that’s more like it.” feeling him wrap your thighs around his waist as he groaned against you, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth before he moved to suck at the sensitive flesh on your jawline, his tongue smoothing over the newly raised marks that he left behind “let me hear ya say that again, angel.”
☾ MATTSUN his brows furrowed as you stood before him, arms crossed over your chest before you rolled your eyes at the indifference on his face “you’re not listening to me issei.” his head fell back against the couch as he ran a tired hand down his face with a sigh “we’re not getting anywhere, i mean there’s no point even trying to talk to you matsukawa.” “is that right?” you rolled yours eyes before moving to leave only to feel yourself be pulled back as his figure rose from the couch, sitting back again- this time with you pressed tightly against him as his hand grabbed the back of your neck, you felt something familiar replace the anger in your stomach when you felt his mouth roughly move against yours, causing you to whimper as he swallowed each whine greedily - followed by his own deep groans, his grip tightening to push you closer before he pulled away with a smirk on his swollen lips, his hand moving to tangle in your hair to yank your head back as he placed sloppy but chaste kisses up your neck as you shuddered “come on babygirl, how about you let me make it up to you, hmm?”
☾ OSAMU you were in his office as he glared at you, your back pressed against his desk,“you need to rest samu.” “and a told ya a cant, ya agreed ta this when ya married me.” “all i want is a fucking minute of your time!” a silence fell over the room as your voice raised, your breath hitching as he walked towards you, his eyes a little darker now from what you could see under his cap but all thoughts melted when you felt his tongue forcefully slide past your lips to taste your own, your mind felt hazy- focusing on his deep groans against you before he leaned forward to swipe the work off the desk behind you, hand grabbing your thighs to lift you ontop before his own body caged you against it “s-samu—“ your words were cut off as he pulled away, his tongue replaced by his fingers as he stuffed two inside your mouth “be good and keep that pretty mouth of yers quiet angel.” you nodded as your tongue slid over his fingers, watching his swollen lips part as he groaned deeply before leaning over you once again “shit— so good, ya were fuckin’ made for me.”
☾ IWAIZUMI got jealous, he trusted you but something about the way you giggled at oikawa’s jokes really irked him today, both of you returning home as he slammed the door, finally causing you to blow “what’s your fucking problem iwa?” “don’t fucking piss me off.” “or what? gonna pout about it?” your teasing tone immediately dropped when you felt your back slam against the door behind you, his eyes darker this time as his hands wrapped tightly around your wrists, pinning them beside you as his lips moved to bite at the sensitive spot on your neck before soothing over it with his tongue “you better watch that fucking mouth doll.” your mouth opened to reply, but he knew from the look in your eyes you weren’t done as his lips latched onto yours, his tongue not giving you a chance to think never mind speak as it slid against your own, your back arching against his chest as he groaned into your mouth- pulling away to scoff as you whined at the loss, taking both your wrists into one hand in favour of roughly grabbing your jaw instead, his thumb tracing your now swollen bottom lip “you know he’ll never make you feel as fucking good as i do.”
☾ SUNA glared at you tiredly as he lay back on his forearms “do you not have anything to say rintarō?” he rolled his eyes as he scoffed “are you done?” you wanted to scream at the stoic look on his face, but before you could think you found yourself stumbling forward towards him, his slender fingers moving to the base of your neck as you fell into his lap, you could’ve whimpered at the heated look he gave you but you felt the tension in your shoulders melt when his lips moved against your own instead, groaning deeply as his tongue sloppily slid over yours at a lazy pace that always had you whimpering against him as he pulled away, admiring the hazy look in your eyes as you felt his fingers tighten around your throat “still so pretty for being such a fucking brat.” his drawled out tone and the loss of oxygen had your heart hammering at your chest as you stumbled over an apology, his lips moving to ghost over yours as you whined, his free hand moving to slap the flesh of your thigh before he smoothed over the red skin “where’s that attitude now huh?”
Omg I have a request! I just hope tumblr doesn’t eat it but I just saw a tiktok trend to see how long it takes for your boyfriend to kiss you first and I would like to see that with any of the hq boys of your choosing pls 🥺 if not that’s fine I just thought it would be funny but have a good day/night bby <3
HAIKYUU BOYS WITH TIKTOK TREND WHERE YOU SEE HOW LONG IT TAKES THEM TO KISS YOU FIRST
characters - timeskip!miya atsumu, miya osamu, suna rintarō, iwaizumi hajime, sakusa kiyoomi
a/n - omg the way i screamed when i seen this one AHHHH so much cute possibilities, i kept it to more quiet boys (except ‘tsumu) lmao
☾ ATSUMU you always greeted him at the door after practice, his bright grin always waiting for his welcome home kiss and hug — but when youd thought about this prank you decided you’d make him have to be the one to seek you out instead, as you chose to remain on the couch when you heard his key in the door. a pout was on his lips instantly when your figure wasn’t the first thing he seen, basically walks straight to the living room to start looking “baby? what’re ya doin’ am home.” you looked up at him and gave him a quick smile before you attention went back to the tv show you were watching, hearing him huff as he fell clumsily next to you on the couch with a sigh— he keeps glancing at you as his pout deepens with each time he’s not met with a kiss until he cracks “yer killin’ me here! ya forgot ma kisses, where are ma kisses ya know a need them to survive.” before smooshing his lips against yours, he doesn’t even care when you laugh at his whining cos he gets his kisses anyway.
☾ OSAMU you’d visited him at the restaurant during your break at work, waving to the staff as they pointed you into the direction of the kitchen where your husband was preparing some orders “samu?” “hi baby, how’s yer day goin’?” you noticed the way he seemed to lean his head towards you as you walked over, knowing he was expecting his normal greeting kiss you always gave him, so when you watched his eyebrows furrow when you ignored him you felt a little bad ngl. “ya alright?” “yeah i’m good, why?” “no reason.” he doesn’t want to seem annoying by asking so he brushes it off until he finally finishes one of the orders as he moved towards you “it’s yer favourite.” hand holding the onigiri just to snatch it away when you reach for it “oi first — ya owe me a kiss, al trade ya.” — he wins.
☾ SUNA you were both lying in bed, scrolling on your phone as you lay against his chest — you decided to do the prank before bed because you both always shared a goodnight kiss “i’m gonna go to bed rin, goodnight.” he was going to say goodnight but by the time his eyes landed on your figure youd already closed your eyes like you were a sleep. you stifle your giggle when you feel him nudge you in your sleep as he whispered “hey, are you mad?” you blinked at him before shaking your head and lying back down again, smile so desperately wanting to break through your lips when you hear him sigh before nudging you again, his lips placing a quick peck against yours this time when you look up as he giggle, rolling his eyes as he scoffs “you’re a brat, go to sleep.”
☾ IWAIZUMI despite what people thought due to his intimidating exterior, iwaizumi loved kisses. he’d returned home from work, dropping his bag at the door as he immediately went to look for you as he found you in the living room on the couch, he’s even got a little smile when he walks over to you to place his hands at each side of your body, face leaning in close to yours as he awaits a kiss but when you just look past him to continue watching tv— he blushes so bad cos he’s a little embarrassed but also, he wants his kisses! “hey! what’s up with you?” “huh? nothing haji why?” he was too embarrassed to ask so he just grumbles something under his breath and sits next to you, you notice how he seems to get closer and closer until you’re basically on his lap but he’s pouting the whole time, you end up turning when you hear him groan only for him to crash his lips onto yours before pulling away with a blush “you’re a spoiled dumbass.”
☾ SAKUSA you always gave him a good luck kiss before a game, so you were curious what his reaction would be — because he always complained about your kisses even though he leaned into them with a blush everytime. you met up before he went onto the court, telling him good luck before you went to wave him off and leave, but before you can go you feel a slight tug on the hem of your jacket as you turn around to a very blushy kiyoomi “uh— where are you going?” “to the stands.” “we’re not done yet.” he can’t even look at you but when he glances at the confused look on your face you swear he burns redder, ends up quickly pulling down his mask to place a kiss against your forehead before turning immediately to walk away, hearing you giggle behind him as he mutters a “shutup.” hoping you don’t see the red that’s spread to the tips of his ears and neck — but you do.
idk i randomly woke up thinking of this buuut do you think you can write one where the s/o is looking really good and they're about to head out for like a business meeting or hanging out with their friends. like how would the hq boys react? you can use anyone you want or are comfy with. i also hope you have a good day and make sure to drink water and get at least a little bit of sun or fresh air :)
HAIKYUU BOYS REACTIONS WHEN YOU DRESS UP TO GO OUT
characters — timeskip!miya atsumu, kuroo tetsurō, miya osamu, suna rintarō, iwaizumi hajime
a/n — warning ⚠️ okay some got a lil suggestive but not too much, im sorry i’m the worst lmao. have an amazing day my love, i hope you enjoy <3 i’m kinda happy w these!
☾ ATSUMU his head shot up from where he lay on the couch once he seen you come into his view from the bedroom, eyes dragging up and down your figure as he groaned when he stood up to walk towards you, his hands immediately grabbing you as he pulled you into his chest “what’s ma baby all dressed up for hmm?” “going out ‘tsumu” he hummed as his head dipped to place gentle kisses up the expanse of your shoulder before travelling up your neck, stopping to suck a visible purple mark just below your ear before he pulled away to admire it “ya sure ya don’t wanna stay home with me?” his facade drops so quick when you playfully shove him away and tell him “no” with a giggle, slaps your ass on your way out the door though.
☾ KUROO he whistled lowly as his eyes met yours as you adjusted your clothes in the bedroom mirror, a smirk already stretching his features as he walked towards you “now, now kitten— all this for me?” you rolled your eyes at his teasing as his arms wrapped around you from behind, admiring your features in the mirror before his hand traced up your body, fingers tightening around your chin, turning your head towards him in favour of placing a gentle peck on your lips before he pulled away to admire you a little longer, silence finally broken as he drawled out his words almost seductively “are you made of Fluorine, Iodine, and Neon? because kitten, you are F-I-Ne” you both end up laughing so hard because he’s such a dork, he tells you to have a good time though, we love him.
☾ OSAMU he was in the kitchen cleaning up when you came into show him your outfit before you left, he smiles so big and immediately opens his arms to wrap them around you, giving your forehead a few kisses before he rests his lips against the skin “how do i look samu?” “ya look amazin’ angel, ya always do.” pulls away to fix any of your clothes he might’ve messed up with how tight he hugged you “ya want anything done for ya comin’ back? are ya gonna eat while yer out or a can make ya somethin’?” you just nod before he walks you to the door, giving you once last longing glance as he checks you out shamelessly “enjoy yerself alright? not too much though, al be waitin’ for ya comin’ home for that.”
☾ SUNA he was scrolling through his phone on the couch when you walked into the room, immediately locking his phone and flinging it down beside him when you walked in as he looks at you with his lips slightly upturned “do i look okay, rin?” he straightens up a little as he pats his lap, arms immediately wrapping around you as he pulls you on top of him, his hands running up the expanse of your thighs as they squeeze at the skin— his gaze never leaving yours, his words almost a raspy groan “fuck, so pretty.” one of his hands moving higher to rest on your neck as his lips slide against yours sweetly, a contrast to the hungry look in his eyes as he grins when he pulls away “send me some photos when you’re out?”
☾ IWAIZUMI you swear you heard him growl when your gaze met his, his muscled arm stretched along the back of the couch as you watch the heat creep up his neck and across his cheeks when you catch his gaze lingering on your figure. his voice comes out deep, one your used to but only in more intimate moments with him as he rises from his place to move closer to you “shit doll, look so fucking good for me.” one of his hands moving around the expanse of your hips as he grabbed a handful of your ass in his palm, lips capturing yours slowly even though his other hand tightened on your waist with more urgency, he pulls away shortly after, gazing down at you with the same blush he’d always had before he’s reaching for his keys “let me drop you off? need to make sure my princess is safe right?”
Hiiiii! Omg I love this blog. I have a request, so like how would the guys react if their S/O gives them an inappropriately passionate kiss? Like, they go for a simple goodbye peck before leaving but instead it's a super-heated french kiss (a bedroom kiss!) and then their S/O acts so nonchalant about it like they didn't just slip their bf some tongue lmao! My only preferences are for Suna, Akaashi, and/or Sakusa but you can add more! 😉
HAIKYUU BOYS REACTIONS WHEN YOU CATCH THEM OFF GUARD WITH A PASSIONATE KISS
characters — timeskip!suna rintarō, akaashi keiji, sakusa kiyoomi, miya atsumu, iwaizumi hajime
a/n — warning ⚠️ suggestive I WAS SWEATING WRITING THUS OMG yuh get into it!!! yayyyyy time to write some making out mf <3
☾ SUNA you’d went to kiss him goodbye before practice, the gym hallway was fairly empty considering everyone was there already so as he leaned down to give you a quick peck, your fingers immediately tangled in his hair pulling him back against you, smirking against his mouth as you felt his breathing stutter a little, using the opportunity to push your tongue past his lips to glide against his own, before his hands gripped your waist tightly— his body moving closer to yours as you stumbled back before you felt his hand slowly trace its way up your stomach towards your neck, only choosing to pull away just as it reached your nape, you grinned as he whispered a “fuck.” under his breath, his lips swollen, hair messy and tip of his ears tinted red but as you turned with a “see you later, rin.” and a wink, you giggled as he rolls his eyes before trying to brush his hair back into place with a scoff “brat.”
☾ AKAASHI he’d grabbed you a coffee at the counter before he leaned over your body to place it down infront of you with a smile, you’d looked at him with a softer one in return “thank you keiji.” as you leaned in to give him a peck, admiring his gentle, unsuspecting expression before you crashed your lips back against his causing a surprised moan to fall from his lips but his mouth still seemed to move seamlessly against yours before he gently placed his hand on your shoulder as he pulled away, readjusting his glasses as he cleared his throat before looking around the cafe “uh, you’re welcome, love.” watching him slide into the seat opposite from you as his hand opened across the table for you to place yours on top, a smile and a small dusting of pink of his cheeks.
☾ SAKUSA he’d went to kiss you goodbye before he left for practice, his palm resting against your cheek gently as he leaned into give you a quick peck but his eyes widened almost comically when you grabbed his shirt and pulled him back, hands grabbing his curls as he whimpered into your mouth, his hand that was previously on your cheek moving to the back of your neck instead as his tongue messily slid along yours, chest pressed tightly against your body before he’s pulling away with shallow breathes as his half lidded eyes stared at yours, his cheeks flushed as he tsk’d before pulling on his mask hoping he could cover the growing redness, running a hand through his curls with a frustrated sigh “i’ll deal with you when i’m home.”
☾ ATSUMU youd walked him to the gym doors as he turned to give you a quick kiss as a goodbye that normally lingered a little longer than most, so you felt his lips stretch into a grin when you pulled him closer in favour of sliding your lips against his own, feeling your legs almost buckle as he groaned against you before pushing you against the wall in the hallway, words breathless as they’re exchanged between sloppy kisses “fuck angel, yer really pullin’ this before practice?” his hand hooking under your leg as he pulled it up around his waist, a moan coming from you as he brought his hand down on your thigh— a loud slap filling the silence as he moved to suck on your tongue with a loud groan and a raspy “so fuckin’ hot.” your hands tangling in his hair as his lips moved to your neck, sucking purple marks into the skin but you jumped when the gym doors slammed open “miya! in, now.” your eyes meeting iwaizumi’s cold glare at your boyfriend, a smirk on his now swollen lips as he left one last peck against your own “ya better watch me play extra good for ya, baby”
☾ IWAIZUMI you’d dropped him off at work, eyes trailing across his muscles as they bulged out his uniform, the colours looking amazing against his more tanned skin as he leaned over the centre console to give you a kiss goodbye. you grabbed his collar as your tongue swiped at his lower lip, a deep groan falling from his mouth as you swallowed it with your own moan— leaning over to meet him as he tried to grunt in protest but when his hands travelled to grab a handful of your ass you knew he was a goner. his free hand grabbing a fistful of your hair as he pulled at the roots, just hard enough for it not to hurt you too much as he bit at your lower lip before pulling away, his gaze dark and eyes narrowed but you only focused on the redness of his cheeks and neck, smirking at how wrecked he was over a kiss “shit, you better wait for me coming home, princess.” his deep, straight tone causing you to whimper, but you smirked watching him trip out the car before readjusting his sweats as he walked towards the gym.
hi! can i request Headcons about kita and osamu with their s/o in online class or google meet and forget to turn off the camera stuff. i like how you've done for suna, daichi and akaashi hehehe your hc is cute and i love it! 🥺❤️
LEAVING THEIR CAMERA ON WHILE BEING SOFT WITH THEIR S/O PART II
⇢ includes: osamu , kita , iwaizumi | PART I
⇢ genre// cw: fluff , f!reader // suggestive, iwa bites you
⇢ wc~ 1K
a/n: please yess i loved this prompt sorry for taking so long i just idek why i left this on my drafts for so long SORRY nonnie !!
reblogs are highly appreciated <3
“hun-gry”
Osamu’s eyes drift from the laptop on the counter to you, softening when you loudly yawn entering the kitchen, he must admit that seeing you decked into one of his grey sweaters is making his heart beat a little faster than before.
“good morning to you too” he says between a deep chuckle as he presses a button on his earbuds. “Nice to see that you slept so well”
Your eyes adapt to the light and notice Osamu sitting in front of the screen, his notebook resting beneath his hands. You tilt your head, sleepiness still fogging your mind as you move behind him.
“I’m hungry ‘Samu” your head falls on top of his muscular shoulder and your arms wrap his torso
Osamu, quickly taps the button that deactivates the camera, or at least he thinks he did, before looking over his shoulder with half lidded eyes.
“You’re always hungry Y/N”
“You’re always hungry too!!
He shakes his head, stopping a small giggle to come out of his lips as you nuzzle your nose against his neck, leaving soft kisses and mumbling “cook me something” in the process. Osamu closes his eyes, enjoying your caresses before turning to face you.
“I didn’t know I had such a whiny baby as girlfriend” he lays his pen on top of his notebook before cupping your cheek with his big palm, “What am I going to do with ya?”
You pout at his mocking tone and Osamu sees the opportunity to kiss your lips, drawing a little moan out of you. Your eyes flutter closed as you hug him tighter, enjoying the warmth of his body against yours.
“Miya-kun! You are still part of this class!!” a female voice rings in Osamu’s ears making him stiffen, you, on the other hand, are brushing your lips on the sensitive skin of his neck searching for his mouth again, causing the spiker to blush violently as he apologizes. He looks at you with pleading eyes, using all his willpower to hold back the urge to kiss you.
“babes-please, stop.”
“Shin, can you help me with this real quick?”
Kita sees you from the corner of his eyes, standing on the entrance of his room, holding your math notebook and tapping your feet, waiting for an answer. He activates his microphone not facing you yet, addressing his classmates with a stoic tone.
“Excuse me, I’m gonna leave for a bit” he explains to his group before deactivating his camera and mic to take off his earbuds, leaving them on top of the desk. Kita’s face softens as his eyes squint a bit to give you a tender smile, patting his lap for you to use as a seat. “Come, angel”
You eagerly move your feet in his direction before plopping your weight on his thighs, sitting horizontally. One of his palms caresses your back while the other rests on your legs.
“What is it, darling?” he whispers, leaning to pepper your cheek, making a bubbly laugh burst out of your throat.
“I-help me with math please, I don’t understand this right here” you whine, pointing with your pen at the equation on your notebook, an angry frown settling on your face as you reread the problem out loud.
“Poor baby, of course I’ll help ya”, Kita smiles before his nose tickles your neck and plants a little kiss over the exposed skin. “Okay, this goes like this-“
“Kita! Your camera is still on!” Aran’s yell coming from the earbuds is loud enough for you both to hear it, your face starting to burn as you look directly at the camera, finding the ace covering his eyes.
But Kita is calm, he gives a shy smile at the screen before plugging his earbuds back, squeezing softly your thigh in an attempt to relax you.
“Thank you Aran, I apologize for the scene but… I couldn’t help it” his cheeks redden a bit as you hide your face in your palms, muffling an apology before trying to stand up. Kita’s quickly grip your thigh stopping you for moving off his lap.
“I haven’t explained ya the exercise yet”
“Are you still in class?”
“I have a little break, need something?”
You look at your boyfriend from your chair, giving a worried look that makes his thick, brown eyebrows to furrow together before he huffs. He looks away, hiding the red flush that started creeping on his face.
“No.”, You notice by the way he’s standing there, shifting his weight from left to right and hiding his hands in his pockets that he’s lying so, you lean back, offering a teasing smile.
“Oh! In that case I better do some work”, you drift your attention back to your laptop but your chair turns to the side, finding Iwaizumi’s greyish eyes staring deeply at you as his hands grip firmly the arms of your chair, caging you in your seat. “What is it Haji?”
“Want you” two simple words that make your heart flutter. One of his palms moves behind your neck to secure his hold on you as his lips crash against yours in a passionate kiss.
There room is silent except for the sounds of your wet and sloppy kisses.
“Iwa-chan!!” your boyfriend’s eyes snap open, and he freezes, lips still latched at yours, as the voice of seijoh’s captain bounce against the walls, “you are gonna hurt her lips if you keep biting like a rabid dog! ”
Iwaizumi grunts, shooting daggers to the setter across the screen, and you swear he’s about to smash your laptop with his own hands.
“What the fuck?!”
“If you need advice I-“
You quickly hold onto his arm, dragging him towards you to place a chaste kiss on his cheeks, giggling at the whole situation as your free hand closes the laptop, leaving Oikawa talking to himself.
Iwaizumi huffs and curses, wearing blushy cheeks, pressing his forehead against yours. He stares at your red, swollen lips before tracing them carefully with his calloused fingers, worried.
“Was he right? Did I hurt you? Shit. Gonna be gentler next time, princess”
taglist: @evelynn27, @tobiosbbyghorl, @mjoork, @kenmaki, @hajiswife, , @oikadiors , @arrogantsonofabiscuit, @asteroid-babe , @kouffee-ink, @wak4tosh1@sazunari @akkeyomi @ilovecheese08
streets
pairing: hajime iwaizumi x reader
genre: smut
warnings: 18+ nsfw, mentions of alcohol consumption, oral (male receiving), choking, dirty talk, daddy kink, slight size kink, slight praise kink
summary: you give your boyfriend top at the red light
you sigh as you climb into the passenger seat of the car, your body feeling heavy because of how tired you were. as you settle into the seat you hear the door of the driver’s side opening. your head lolling to the side, you see your boyfriend. you catch iwaizumi’s eyes and with a small smile he leans forward pecking your lips.
after pulling back, he begins to put his seat belt on and breaks the comfortable silence, “i hope tonight wasn’t too much. i know you don’t really like parties.”
oikawa had thrown a little new year’s kickback as a celebration of not only the new year but him finally being back in japan. he had invited a majority of the seijoh boys and of course iwaizumi. being oikawa’s closest friend, iwaizumi knew he had to show up or else oikawa would whine about it for the months to come. truth be told, hajime was looking forward to spending his new year with you cuddled on the couch while some random countdown special played in the background. clearly that wasn’t the case. the both of you had went and hajime had made it known that he didn’t feel like drinking tonight but he had no issue if you wanted to. you had decided not to drink too much because you didn’t want your boyfriend to ring in the new year by holding your hair up while you threw your guts up in the toilet. although, you knew that if that were to happen he would have no problem with it. a couple beers and a shot or two later, you and hajime decided to take your leave early in hopes that you two could make it home before the clock hit 12:00.
leaning your head back against the headrest you close your eyes and smile, “no, it’s okay. i had a lot of fun. nothing beats seeing makki and mattsun doing drunk karaoke.”
hajime begins to reverse the car, placing his hand on the back of your headrest as he looks back. he shakes his head, “yeah but hearing that shit is awful, i almost went deaf.”
he looks at you briefly before directing his attention to the road in front of him, “are you okay though? you need me to pick up anything?”
you were always able to handle your liquor fairly well so you don’t feel anything more than a slight buzz. you open your eyes to look at your boyfriend, slight smile still on your face, “i’m okay, just wanna be home.”
Keep reading
ok so iwachan is the type of boy you bring home to show your fam, the type that has you and your fam wrapped around his fingers *literally*. imagine bringing him home for dinner one day and he reacted when you asked “daddy” to pass you the pepper??? AND CUES SOME NASTY SHIT HE WILL PULL. make it nasty
A/N: “make it nasty” man you are really putting a lot of pressure on me here (x
Warning: fingering, panty thieving, daddy kink
You were almost, no, you were certain that your parents liked your boyfriend more than they like you.
To think that the thought of your boyfriend having to win them over even crossed your head when you brought him home for the first time, how foolish of you. Credit where it was due, Iwaizumi was a great guy. Respectable, reliable, with his feet on the ground and held all his words with weight. But still, it didn’t stop your saltiness at how your parents almost wanted to hand you off the moment they met him.
You wondered how they would feel if they knew that their perfect son in law was secretly a bit of a freak. But that wasn’t entirely fair, after all, the gap in his demeanor the moment the bedroom door closed had you weak in the knees.
He could probably get away with most anything when it comes to your parents, let’s be honest. But it didn’t stop you from feeling the dread when he casually reached over the table the moment you absent-mindedly asked for “daddy” to pass you the pepper.
Everyone froze in place, and you could see the brief panic in his eyes when he realised what he had done. The smile on your face was stiff as he handed you the jar, hoping and praying that your family would not get the connotation of the phrase. You wanted to die when you see your actual father opened his mouth as if he was hesitant to say something but before he could even articulate his confusion, your boyfriend rose up from his seat and filled your father’s glass with a smile that was too earnest for him to even say anything.
You were supposed to be relieved that your father was immediately grinning and patting Iwa’s shoulder at his thoughtfulness, but you could feel shivers running up your spine when he sat back down and shot you a meaningful glance.
He really, really could get away with anything.
You tried to brush it off when you felt his hand on your thigh, looking over to your side to see him grinning at something your mother said. The clink of your chopsticks falling onto the ceramic made everyone snap their heads to look at you, and your face was burning as you tried to pretend like you totally weren’t caught off guard by your boyfriend’s finger dipping into your panties.
“Are you feeling alright?” he asked with a tone of concern, leaning over to place his palm on your forehead. Your hand was immediately clutching his forearm as the movement allowed him to press his fingers down onto your clit, biting your lips so that you would not make a sound.
He had his back to your parents, and you were the only one who could see the slight smirk on his face.
“I’m alright,” you said, trying your best to hide the way your voice was trembling as you pushed your chair back, abruptly standing up. Iwa was eyeing you in amusement as you chuckled nervously, “it’s just a bit stuffy in here, I’ll be better once I go splash some water on my face.”
You took a deep breath the moment you were along in the corridor, trying to calm yourself down. You were not going back in there until your skin stops burning up and the goosebumps on your arm eased. Your thighs clenched together was you walked, cursing at yourself for how the ministrations he did on you had such an effect.
“Baby girl.”
You jumped at the voice that was low by your ear, his hot breath tickling your senses as he cornered you. The way you rubbed your legs together as he approached you didn’t go unnoticed and you knew you were in for it when his eyes darkened.
“Hajime, what are you-”
“Just then out there, you nearly embarrassed me in front of mom and dad,” you loved and hated the way he addressed your parents like that, “you know how I feel about you using that word...”
You wanted to argue that it was a reach, that it was unintentional but your voice came out as nothing more than a squeak when his hands slipped under your skirt to tug at the elastic of your panties.
“Off.”
The sheer dominance in his voice had you weak in his hands. Looking around to make sure no one was watching, you shuddered as he peeled the fabric off your legs, stuffing it in his jean pocket.
“Now that’s a good girl,” he was quick to return to his usual demeanor as he took your hand in his before walking back out to the dining area but not without leaning down to whisper in your ear. The gravel in his voice made you shiver. “behave, or else daddy will get very angry at you.”
The food was delicious, but your sense of taste seemed to betray you as your mind was not able to ignore how bare you felt. You hoped no one noticed that you were shifting in your seat but he sure did, ever so attentive as he was.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, nothing suspicious except for the fact that his hand was inching towards your now naked core. Your hand was gripping at the table as he traced your folds, collecting the leaking arousal at the pad of his fingers. “Hm?”
“Nothing!” you managed to choke out, quickly biting your cheeks so that nothing would slip out as he eased two fingers inside your walls, slowly scissoring them.
“You have been acting very strangle today, are you sure you’re alright?” you mother asked, “maybe you should go home and take some rest.
You could only force yourself to nod as the bolts of pleasure shot up your spine, the feeling of him gliding in and out of you painfully prominent.
“No worries, I’ll take care of her.”
You wanted nothing more than to glare at him for managing to sound so sweet, so caring as he toyed with you. The tingling on your scalp as he pulled away was enough to keep you on edge and you could feel your arousal gushing out at the sudden lost of friction.
“Of course we won’t worry, we know she is in very good hands!” There it was, your parents’ near painful oblivion as to what was going on
“It’s nice to know that we can always count on you!”
Your mother’s voice rang by your ear as he walked you out of the restaurant with his arm holding you up. You were glaring daggers at him the moment you were out of their sight. “Hajime-”
You gasped when you felt his hand grabbing your ass roughly.
“Sh... daddy will take very good care of you tonight.”
Haikyuu
Karasuno
Nishinoya Yu
Kageyama Tobio
Hinata Shoyo
Tsukishima Kei
Nekoma
Kuroo Tetsurou
Morisuke Yaku
Fukurodani
Bokuto Kotaro
Akashi Keiji
Shiratoni
Wakatoshi Ushijima
Semi Eita
Satori Tendo
Aoba Johsai
Oikawa Tooru
Iwaizumi Hajime
Inarizaki
Shinsuke Kita
Miya Atsumu
Miya Osamu
Others
Meian Shugo
Sakusa Kiyoomi
Hoshiumi Korai
Status: The request box is open only for the monthly one-shot voting if the characters are chosen.
Thinking of Iwaizumi coming home after a day of training and fucking you to sleep with his big cock <3
Iwaizumi, Rivals, part 3, nsfw..? Please 🥹 only if you have time ofc.. but like.. please don’t leave me hanging.. the cliffhanger… please..
You ofc, don’t need to do it. It’s totally up to you. Also please remember to drink water & eat full meals!
Just posted (read here) after eating a full meal and drinking all my water :D I hope you enjoy the spice eheheh thank you for the ask lovely <333
Rivalry: Iwaizumi Pt. 3 (NSFW)
The overhead lights in your office buzzed faintly, casting a sterile sheen across your desk, your tea, your meticulously arranged files. Every folder sat aligned at a perfect angle, every spreadsheet tabbed and color-coded to hell and back. You had done it all this morning, trying to distract yourself—trying to settle your mind with clean lines and predictable logic. The problem was, your hands weren’t moving. Your cursor blinked on the empty field of the player report form, waiting for an input that wasn’t coming.
You were still in last night’s gym.
You could feel it—his hand at your waist, his breath ghosting along your neck, the focused burn in his eyes like he’d been trying so hard not to look and failing anyway. That single brush of his fingertips over your lower back had lingered longer than it should have. You’d felt the press of his palm even after the janitor’s voice startled you both apart.
You clicked your pen hard against the desk, leaving a dent in the paper beneath it. No. You are not spiraling over Iwaizumi Hajime’s fucking triceps. This wasn’t high school. You didn’t have a crush. You had standards—and a job to do.
So why the hell couldn’t you stop replaying how his eyes had dropped—not to your clipboard, not to your notes—but to your mouth, right before the door opened?
Another sharp click. Another unfinished line of text. The memory flushed through your chest like static, and you were just about to stand and walk it off when a knock sounded on your door.
It was brisk. Familiar. Firm.
You barely managed to school your features into something neutral before the door cracked open—and there he was.
Iwaizumi Hajime, looming like a storm cloud, his Olympic-branded laptop tucked under one arm. His shirt sleeves were rolled to the elbows, veins tracing his forearms like tension maps, his jaw tight, unreadable. He didn’t say anything at first, just stepped inside your office with the restrained efficiency of a man too used to high-stakes situations.
“I’ve updated the training program,” he said, voice rough and clipped, as if last night hadn’t happened. “Based on what you showed me yesterday.”
He moved toward your desk, tilted the screen toward you. The moment the spreadsheet opened, your eyes skimmed the rows—and your stomach tightened.
Komori’s lateral sequences had been scaled down. Hyakuzawa’s overhead load was decreased. Flexibility modules were individualized. The wording was precise. The ratios were accurate.
You couldn’t believe it.
“It looks… solid,” you said, cautiously. “You actually listened.”
Iwaizumi’s mouth quirked. “I always listen.”
“You just don’t usually believe me,” you muttered, fingers tapping the edge of the keyboard.
He shrugged. “I believe you when you’re right.”
You were about to fire back when the door slammed open.
“Whoa—no yelling?” Bokuto’s voice rang out with playful disbelief as he peeked in, already grinning.
Behind him, Yaku gave a nod like he’d seen this coming from a mile away. “Told you they’d mellow out eventually.”
You crossed your arms, glaring. “What the hell are you two doing?”
“Seeing if the explosion already happened,” Bokuto chirped, eyes darting between you and Iwaizumi. “But this? You’re practically cozy. Suspicious.”
“Get out,” Iwaizumi growled, his voice all grit and warning.
“Wait, are you two—” Bokuto began.
“Absolutely not,” you cut in, sharp enough to decapitate.
Yaku raised a brow. “You’re denying it a little too fast, Doc.”
Iwaizumi’s glare could have melted iron. “Say one more thing and you’re benched for the week.”
“Okay, okay!” Bokuto backed up, laughing. “Damn. Just saying—it’s new energy.”
You stood, jaw clenched. “Out. Now.”
The two Olympic players exchanged a final glance before Bokuto tossed over his shoulder, “If it does happen, call me for the wedding.”
As the door shut behind them, you exhaled sharply. “They are insufferable.”
Iwaizumi rubbed the back of his neck, sighing. “Because we let them be.”
He turned toward the door, laptop still under his arm. Before leaving, he hesitated—just for a beat—and looked at you over his shoulder.
“Seriously. You were right. Yesterday.”
The words landed heavy. Too heavy.
“…Thanks.”
He nodded once, then walked out. Door closing on his way out.
And you didn’t move for a long time.
Not until your pulse calmed and the sound of his voice stopped buzzing in your ears.
--
You’d barely made it back to your office from your lunch break and shut the door behind you before there was another knock. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was. That rhythm was far too obnoxious to belong to anyone else.
“Doc!” Atsumu Miya strolled in like he owned the place, grinning with all the charm of a cat who’d just knocked something off a counter. “Got a second? My shoulder’s actin’ up again—figured you’d be thrilled to poke around in it.”
You rolled your eyes, but gestured toward the exam bench anyway. “Sit. Shirt off. Keep the commentary to a minimum.”
“That’s no fun,” he mumbled, but obeyed, peeling his shirt off with the practiced flair of someone who knew exactly what his arms looked like in fluorescent lighting.
You slipped on your gloves, moving around him with practiced ease. “Still some impingement from the inflammation?”
“Mmhm,” he replied, rotating his arm slightly. “Worse after I sleep on it wrong.”
You pressed gently along the front of the shoulder, assessing the rotation with subtle shifts. He winced once, which you noted.
Then, predictably, the smirk returned.
“Ya and Iwaizumi-san looked cozy earlier,” he said casually, not even trying to be slick. “Should I be worried?”
You froze for half a second, just enough for him to catch it.
“Worried he might kill me?” you deadpanned, fingers still pressed to his deltoid. “Absolutely.”
Atsumu huffed a laugh, but his eyes narrowed, too observant for your liking.
“I was thinkin’ the opposite,” he mused. “Didn’t look like hate to me.”
Your brows twitched.
You narrowed your eyes. “Did the rest of the team put you up to this?”
Atsumu’s smirk deepened. “What? Can’t a guy notice things on his own?”
You scoffed and reached for his shoulder again. “I’m going to press deeper into the joint now.”
Atsumu, still grinning, relaxed his shoulder—and immediately yelped when your fingers dug just slightly harder into the inflamed tissue.
“Still tender, I see?” you asked innocently, lifting a brow.
“Ow—damn, Doc!” he hissed, rubbing the area as you pulled back. “That was a low blow.”
You offered a thin smile. “Consider it a reminder to keep your theories to yourself.”
He winced, stretching his shoulder slowly. “You wound me. Here I am, bringin’ you a little entertainment in your dull clinic, and you repay me with violence.”
“I repay you with diagnostics,” you replied coolly, stepping around to the back of his shoulder. “And unsolicited opinions get the treatment they deserve.”
“Don’t know why you’re actin’ like this is such a scandal,” he muttered. “Half the gym’s been waitin’ for you two to snap and jump each other.”
Your glove-clad fingers stilled mid-rotation.
Atsumu grinned like a shark. “C’mon, you mean to tell me ya don’t see it? All that arguing—feels like foreplay.”
"It is not in your best interest to continue that train of thought."
You moved to the back of his shoulder and rotated the joint again, this time met with less resistance.
But your heart was suddenly in your throat.
Atsumu didn’t push further—blessedly—but his silence was far louder than any teasing remark. He watched you finish the check-up with a strange sort of calm, the air between you humming with something unsaid.
“You’re good,” you said finally, peeling off the gloves and tossing them into the bin. “Still keep the compression sleeve on when you’re not on court. I’ll send you some updated stretches.”
“Thanks, Doc.” He hopped off the bench, slinging his shirt over his shoulder. But just before he stepped out, he paused at the door.
“Y’know,” he said, almost too casually, “it’s kinda wild. Iwaizumi’s been here for years, and I’ve never seen him look at anyone like that.”
The door shut behind him before you could ask what the hell that meant.
And you hated—hated—the way your face warmed.
--
The lights in the hallways were dim, the soft hum of the facility settling into its nightly lull. Most of the staff had already cleared out—offices darkened, doors locked, the echo of your footsteps the only thing keeping the silence company. You rolled your shoulder, spine aching after another long day of meetings, treatment notes, and dodging the smug glances Atsumu kept throwing you every time he passed your office.
You were halfway to the exit, bag slung over your shoulder, keys in hand, when something made you stop. A dull, rhythmic sound. The muted clang of weights meeting padded flooring.
Your eyes cut to the side.
The training gym was lit only by a single overhead bulb in the far corner, flickering slightly above the racks. Inside, shirtless, sweat-slicked, and visibly focused, stood Hajime Iwaizumi. Alone.
You didn’t mean to stop. But your feet planted themselves anyway.
He was mid-lift—some kind of upright barbell press—and the curve of his back shifted with every rep, sweat rolling down between the muscles that flexed and released with practiced rhythm. His sweatpants clung to the powerful line of his hips, and a notebook sat open beside him on the bench, filled with scrawled corrections and diagrams. He wasn’t just working out. He was testing.
Your breath snagged, and before you could stop yourself, your hand reached out to gently push the door open.
Iwaizumi looked up.
He didn’t pause. Didn’t blink. Just kept lifting, jaw tight, eyes catching yours.
"You just gonna stand there," he said, voice gravelled with fatigue and something warmer, "or you planning to come in?"
Your heart gave an inconvenient lurch.
You stepped in. Slowly. The door clicked shut behind you, the echo bouncing off the gym walls like a warning shot.
"Didn’t think you’d still be here," you said, keeping your voice neutral.
He lowered the weights, rolling his shoulders back with a grunt. "Didn’t finish the work. That thing you won’t stop nagging me about."
Your lips twitched. "Right. That thing."
A beat of silence. Thick and heavy.
You moved closer, eyeing the open notebook.
"You’ve changed a lot," you said, voice quieter.
He arched a brow. "Excuse me?"
You pointed at the program updates. "The circuits. You adjusted the progression intervals. And you finally stopped overloading the endurance drills."
A shrug. "You were right."
Your eyes flicked up, surprised to hear it from his mouth.
"Don’t get smug," he muttered.
"Wouldn’t dream of it."
The corner of his mouth quirked, and for a moment, the silence between you was less heavy. Just taut. Like a pulled wire.
You pointed to the bar. "May I?"
His brow raised, but he stepped aside. You brushed past him—just barely—but the heat that rolled off his skin followed you like static. You wrapped your fingers around the bar, adjusted your stance.
"Like last night," you murmured, reaching back with your hand, brushing your palm across the taut muscle of his abdomen. "You’re still tensing too soon. Posterior tilt’s off."
He let out a rough exhale. "You always this picky?"
"You always this stubborn?"
He caught your wrist. Not hard—just firm enough that your eyes snapped to his.
"You know what you’re doing."
Your pulse jumped. "Do I?"
His mouth crashed into yours before you could answer.
Everything went hot and messy.
His lips were rough, desperate, teeth scraping your lower lip like it was a grudge he meant to settle. You gasped into his mouth as his hands found your waist, calloused fingers digging into the soft give of your skin like he could anchor himself there. The gym’s cold air was a distant thing, barely felt beneath the furnace of your bodies colliding, friction turning tension into fire.
You didn’t remember moving, only the wild clutch of your limbs and his, the stumble of your shoes across the floor. One step. Two. Then you were walking him backward toward the center mat, his chest rising beneath your touch. He was tugging your shirt up, shoving it over your head with a grunt of impatience, and it hit the ground somewhere behind you. You didn’t care. You needed more—needed his skin under your palms, needed to feel him, solid and hot and here.
"You’re such a pain in my ass," you growled, teeth flashing as you wrestled with the waistband of his sweats.
"Yeah?" he rasped, his hand already sliding past the waistband of your leggings, fingers curling possessively around your ass. "Then why do you keep showing up?"
You shoved him. Hard.
He hit the mat with a thud, breath whooshing out of him—and still he grinned like the bastard he was, even as he yanked you down on top of him.
Your thighs spread across his hips as you straddled him, your palms braced on his chest, feeling the flex of muscle beneath each ragged breath. You kissed him again—slower this time, deeper. Your tongue slid against his, your hips beginning to roll, teasing friction where your bodies met. His cock strained against his sweats, thick and hot and barely contained.
"Take them off," you muttered.
He obeyed. Sweats shoved down, boxers next, and his cock slapped against his stomach, flushed and ready. You stared for a beat too long.
"What?" he panted, eyes dark and glassy.
"Nothing," you lied. "Just shut up."
Clothes hit the floor in a trail of skin and fabric. Your leggings. Your panties. His shirt. Everything discarded in your frantic need.
He sat up just enough to run his hands up your sides, thumbs brushing the swell of your breasts, then down to your thighs as you shifted above him. You held his gaze as you reached between you, guiding him to your entrance. Your breath caught at the first stretch—then you sank down, inch by inch, until he was fully seated inside you.
You both froze.
Your nails dug into his shoulders, your body adjusting to the thickness of him. The sensation was overwhelming—stretching you open, the slow drag of every inch sending a shiver down your spine. It had been too long since something felt this good. Since someone felt this good.
He groaned, hands trembling against your waist, gripping you like he might come undone.
"Fuck," he whispered. "You—"
"Don’t talk," you snapped, breathless.
You rocked forward, and he moaned. A sound from deep in his throat, guttural and raw. You did it again—slow, dragging circles with your hips, feeling every ridge, every inch, the way he filled you so completely you could barely breathe. The pleasure curled through you hot and tight, blooming in your belly, liquid heat spreading with every thrust.
His mouth found your neck, tongue tracing the line of your throat before he bit, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to make you whimper.
"You drive me insane," he muttered against your skin, and this time, you didn’t argue.
You set a rhythm, your hands on his chest, his hands on your ass, guiding you down harder, deeper, every motion building heat in your belly. Sweat slicked your skin, your thighs trembled, and every thrust sent sparks up your spine. The tension climbed higher, unbearable, addictive.
He met you thrust for thrust, rising to meet you, hips snapping up as you dropped down, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing off the gym walls. You felt yourself unraveling around him, muscles tightening, your body shaking.
"You like this, don’t you?" he growled, voice low and fucked out. "Being in charge. Getting your way."
"Shut up, Hajime."
He grinned—and flipped you.
You hit the mat with a gasp, his body heavy and hot above you. He braced one arm beside your head, the other slipping under your thigh as he pulled your leg higher around his waist.
"Not gonna let you win everything, Doc."
Then he was pounding into you, unrelenting, deep and fast, and your fingers clawed into his back, desperate to hold onto something as pleasure overtook you. Each thrust filled you to the hilt, your walls fluttering around him, slick and tight and aching.
You cried out, eyes fluttering shut, hips canting up to meet his every thrust.
"There," you gasped. "Right there—"
He didn’t stop. Not until your back arched, legs locking around his waist, and you came with a broken moan, pleasure snapping through you like lightning. You pulsed around him, body locking up as ecstasy tore through you.
He followed seconds later, groaning into your neck, his body trembling with release.
For a long moment, all you heard was breath. Harsh. Labored. Yours and his.
He didn’t pull out right away. Just stayed, forehead pressed to your shoulder, his hand tangled in your hair.
You stared at the ceiling.
Oh, fuck.
What now?
Rivalry: Iwaizumi Part 2
The office door clicked shut behind you, tension coiled tight in your shoulders like a spring ready to snap. The argument with Iwaizumi had dragged on longer than either of you expected, every word exchanged like a verbal spar, blades dulled by professionalism but no less sharp.
Coach Fuki Hibarida sat behind his desk like a man who’d already fielded more than his share of chaos before lunch. His fingers steepled under his chin, his gaze sharp as it flicked between you and Iwaizumi. The air in the office was thick enough to choke on.
“I appreciate both of your passion,” he said finally, voice flat and uncompromising. “But if you keep at it like this, the only thing we’re going to accomplish is splitting the damn team in two.”
You leaned forward in your chair, back ramrod straight, the fire in your voice only barely tempered. “With all due respect, Coach, I’m not trying to split anything. I’m trying to protect these athletes from outdated training philosophies that completely disregard their medical history.”
Iwaizumi’s jaw flexed, arms crossed so tight across his chest it looked like he was trying to restrain himself from lunging across the room. “And I’m trying to prevent injuries before they happen. Without a baseline of strength, flexibility means jack shit.”
“Tell that to Sakusa’s ACL.”
He scoffed, sitting forward just enough that your knees almost touched. “You think I don’t know their files? I’ve worked with these guys longer than you’ve even been part of this team.”
“And yet your ‘expertise’ almost put Yaku back in a brace.”
“Enough!” Hibarida barked, and the room dropped into silence.
His eyes moved from Iwaizumi to you and back again. “You’re both right.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and begrudging.
“I’m signing off on your proposed changes,” he continued, nodding toward you. “Flexibility and personalized conditioning will take precedence moving forward. But Iwaizumi—your job is to ensure the training stays rigorous and strategic. Adjust programs for injury history. No exceptions.”
There was a long pause.
Iwaizumi’s voice, when it came, was stiff as granite. “Understood.”
Hibarida’s chair creaked as he stood, clearly eager to be done with the two of you. “I want the updated plan submitted by Friday. Together.”
You stood without looking at Iwaizumi. But as you passed him, shoulder nearly brushing his, you said under your breath, “Try not to screw this one up.”
His grunt of irritation followed you out the door.
--
Iwaizumi stood at the front of the gym, clipboard clutched tightly in his calloused hands, the glossy finish damp where his fingers curled. The fluorescent lights hummed above the Olympic training gym, casting cold, clinical shadows over the rows of elite athletes stretching and rotating through warm-ups. Despite the early hour, the place buzzed with restless energy.
But Iwaizumi wasn’t paying attention to any of that.
His eyes tracked every movement with practiced detachment, but his thoughts were far from the court. A dull headache had taken up residence behind his eyes, and the usual rhythm of morning practice only aggravated it. The pressure building in his temples had nothing to do with lack of sleep—and everything to do with you.
He was still pissed.
“We’re holding off on the strength circuits until the new plan is finalized,” he said, voice clipped, tone leaving no room for discussion.
Heads turned.
Atsumu blinked up from the mat where he’d been balancing his ankle on his opposite knee. “Wait, what? We’re not lifting today?”
Bokuto, halfway through a forward lunge, perked up instantly. “What happened to ‘no excuses’? Did we slip into an alternate universe or something?”
Even Sakusa raised a brow. “Did she win the argument?”
Yaku’s smirk was slow, subtle. “Feels like she won.”
Iwaizumi’s jaw clenched so tightly it made the muscle near his ear twitch. “I said they’re on hold,” he growled, tone sharpening. “New guidelines. End of discussion.”
“Wow,” Suna muttered, droll as ever. “He’s actually mad.”
“I will make you run drills until your legs fall off,” Iwaizumi snapped, voice a low bark. “Stretch. Now.”
That shut them up.
A beat of tense silence passed before the team shifted into their warm-ups. The sounds of light chatter and sneakers resumed, but the atmosphere was noticeably stiffer. The undercurrent of curiosity and amusement didn’t go unnoticed by Iwaizumi, but he shoved it down beneath years of discipline.
The rest of the session moved efficiently. Too efficiently. Every minute felt like an itch he couldn’t scratch.
By noon, the players filtered out of the gym in loose, staggered groups, sweat-darkened shirts clinging to lean muscle and jerseys half-hanging from relaxed shoulders. The air in the locker hallway was humid with effort, and banter floated lazily through the corridor.
Bokuto swung a towel behind his neck like a cape, laughing at something Suna had deadpanned. Sakusa lingered by the door for a beat, casting Iwaizumi a thoughtful glance before slipping out.
“Wonder if she’ll sign my cast when he snaps,” Aran muttered, nudging Hinata, who bit back a laugh.
Iwaizumi said nothing.
He turned on his heel, movements stiff, and marched toward the small office tucked off the side of the gym.
The door shut with more force than necessary.
He dropped the clipboard onto the desk. Papers slipped free, fluttering to the surface like discontent made manifest. The training revisions glared up at him.
And all he could see was your face.
The way you’d challenged him in Hibarida’s office—calm but cutting, your words sharpened like scalpels. The way the coach had leaned in your favor, as if your voice carried a gravity his didn’t. It wasn’t that he couldn’t accept change—he wasn’t stupid. He knew you were right about the numbers. About the science. About the goddamn knees.
But it burned anyway.
It was personal. He couldn’t separate the two. Not when you looked at him like that, like every disagreement was some gleeful test of willpower. Like you were waiting for him to crack so you could claim the final point.
Iwaizumi dragged a hand through his hair, sighing harshly. His shoulders were still tight from holding his voice steady all morning.
He sat down with a grunt, chair creaking beneath him as he opened his laptop. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, poised but reluctant.
He didn’t want to change the entire system. Didn’t want to concede. But the damn truth was already there, glaring back at him from between the numbers and patient logs.
So he typed. Adjusted. Modified.
And when he hit send, the sting of it settled low in his stomach.
The phone lit up before he even closed the tab.
You.
Of course.
He stared at the screen, jaw tight, teeth grinding as your name lit up the caller ID.
Twice it rang. He let it.
On the third, he answered—no greeting, no softness. Just barked, “What now?”
“This revision is still garbage,” came your voice, flat and scathing. “Komori’s and Hyakuzawa’s circuits are identical. One has chronic shoulder fatigue, the other doesn’t.”
“The adjustments are proportional,” he snapped back, voice low and sharp. “That’s how progressive loading works.”
“Progressive loading my ass. You copy-pasted three damn circuits and called it a day. You didn’t even touch their mobility metrics.”
“I factored in what matters.”
You laughed. Cold. “What matters is that Hyakuzawa won’t last another month if you keep pretending his joints aren’t glass.”
His hand slammed against the desk before he could stop himself, palm stinging. “You’re not his goddamn physical therapist.”
“No,” you snapped. “I’m the idiot burning her day off trying to keep him out of a hospital.”
He froze for half a beat.
Your words landed hard, scraping under his skin.
And god, you weren’t done.
“I’m not playing translator for whatever bullshit this is. If you want my sign-off, you’re getting it the right way. You clearly don’t understand the changes, so I’m coming in to explain them. In person. Like a teacher walking through homework with a slow student.”
He tilted his head back, jaw ticking, breath exhaling like steam. He glared at the ceiling tiles like they’d give him strength.
“Fine,” he bit out. “Thirty minutes.”
“Good,” you hissed. “Try not to screw anything else up in the meantime.”
The line went dead.
Iwaizumi stared at the phone for another second, his thumb hovering above the darkened screen.
The silence afterward rang louder than your voice.
And under his breastbone, the pulse of it—his rage, his pride, the heat of your words—all of it throbbed, slow and persistent.
Like something ready to burn.
--
You stormed into Iwaizumi’s office like a gust of controlled fury, not bothering to knock.
He barely had time to glance up before your voice cut through the air like a scalpel.
“It’s my day off, Iwaizumi. You know that, right?”
His brows lifted, clearly caught off guard—not just by your tone, but by your clothes. Joggers clung snugly to your hips, your tank top fitted and dipped in a way your usual business-casual never did. A jacket hung loose around your shoulders, unzipped, and your hair was tied up messily, strands falling out in a way that was entirely unfair.
Still, he bristled at your tone. “You didn’t have to come in.”
“Then maybe don’t make me rewrite your entire plan for you,” you snapped. “I told you Hyakuzawa’s shoulder range isn’t compatible with Komori’s. And you still sent it over like I wouldn’t notice.”
“I adjusted for mass and range—”
“You adjusted by copy-pasting,” you cut in. “Do you even read the assessments I send you?”
His jaw flexed. “I read everything. And I know how to train a team.”
“And I know how to prevent torn rotator cuffs.”
A sharp silence settled between you. You stood with your hands on your hips, breathing hard, Iwaizumi staring at you from behind his desk, every muscle in his arms coiled with tension.
He should’ve barked at you to leave. Should’ve snapped something back just as biting.
Instead, he stood.
“I’m not arguing with you in here,” he said, voice tight. “Let’s go.”
“To the gym?” you asked.
He nodded once, already stepping past you. “You said you’d show me. So show me.”
--
The weight room was empty save for the two of you. Echoes of distant foot traffic from the other side of the facility drifted in and out through the thick walls. Overhead, a single bank of lights buzzed faintly.
“Start with the squats,” you said, tossing a pair of 40-pound dumbbells his way.
He caught them with ease. “Loaded squats? Really?”
You folded your arms. “Humor me, Captain.”
He rolled his eyes but turned to face the mirror, feet shoulder-width apart, and dropped into his first rep. His form was solid—predictably—but your eyes tracked the subtle tremors in his posture, the way his shoulders bore tension even during a movement that should be driven by legs and core.
“Pause,” you ordered.
He straightened slowly, setting the weights down.
“You’re bracing too much in your upper back,” you said. “You’re engaging traps when you should be isolating quads and glutes. Komori compensates the same way, which is exactly the problem.”
You moved behind him, slid your hand down between his shoulder blades, pressing lightly.
“Here,” you murmured. “You feel how stiff this is?”
His breath hitched, almost imperceptibly.
“Try it again, but keep this area loose. Let the legs drive.”
He picked up the weights again and dropped down, this time more controlled.
You circled him once, sharp eyes on every joint.
“That’s better,” you said. “Still not perfect.”
He huffed through his nose. “Then what is?”
Your lips twitched, eyes gleaming. “I’ll show you.”
You stepped forward, picked up a lighter set of weights, and took your stance in the mirror. Your movements were deliberate, slow, each line precise. You dipped into a squat, spine long, and spoke as you moved.
“This is full isolation. Core tight. Knees over toes. Glutes firing.”
You looked at him through the mirror.
“Here—” You set the weights down and grabbed his wrist, tugging him forward. “Put your hand here.”
You placed his palm on your thigh, just above your knee.
“That’s the difference between alignment and load. You feel that tension? That’s what Hyakuzawa can’t hold for more than five reps. So when you give him a template that pushes twelve, you’re training him into injury.”
His fingers twitched where they rested against your leg.
You didn’t look up. Neither did he.
But the silence was loud.
You finally moved, stepping back, letting the contact fall away. His hand lingered for half a second before he pulled it back and flexed his fingers into a fist.
“Alright,” you said, exhaling. “Shoulders next.”
He didn’t speak, just nodded tightly and picked up a new set of dumbbells.
“This one’s more relevant for Komori. Upright rows. Don’t use momentum—go slow.”
He stood tall, lifting the weights to chest height with steady control.
You stepped in again, brushing your fingertips along his forearms as he moved.
“Good... Now hold.”
His muscles tensed, veins stark beneath tan skin, the curve of his biceps flexed just enough to make your breath catch.
You swallowed hard, refocusing.
“Lift from the delts, not the biceps,” you murmured. “They’re stabilizers here.”
Your hand moved to his chest, palm flat over his pec. The contact startled him—just enough for his eyes to flicker up and land right on the exposed line of your cleavage through your tank.
He froze.
And you saw it. That split second of his eyes widening before snapping back up to yours like he hadn’t seen a damn thing.
Your brow rose. “Focus, Iwaizumi.”
He gritted his teeth. “I am focused.”
You pressed a little firmer into his chest. “Then stop compensating here.”
His breath came a little heavier now.
He didn’t say anything.
Didn’t have to.
The tension snapped taut between you. Neither of you moved, the air thick with something sharp, electric.
Then—
“Ah—sorry!”
The door creaked open.
You both jolted, stepping back so fast you almost tripped.
A janitor stood in the doorway, expression blank. “Didn’t realize the room was still in use.”
You cleared your throat. “We were just wrapping up.”
Iwaizumi grabbed a towel, wiping the sweat from his forehead, still avoiding your eyes.
The janitor nodded and disappeared.
Silence returned.
You slung your bag over your shoulder, trying not to show how fast your heart was racing. “I’ll expect the revised plan tomorrow.”
Iwaizumi didn’t answer.
He was still staring at the spot where your hand had been.
Rivalry: Iwaizumi
You didn’t knock.
The door slammed open against the wall with a thud, reverberating through the quiet of the gym offices as you stepped in like a storm on legs. Iwaizumi barely looked up from his tablet, but the hard flicker of his eyes said everything.
“You want to tell me what the hell this is?” You threw the clipboard down onto his desk—hard enough that the pens rattled.
He set the tablet down slowly, deliberately, like he was resisting the urge to match your energy. “You’ll have to be more specific. I get a lot of aggressive paperwork these days.”
You narrowed your eyes. “The new conditioning plan. The one that overemphasizes lower-body strength for half the defensive line—including Yaku, who, if you remember, has two prior knee injuries and doesn’t need another one.”
“It’s a generalized strength cycle,” he said, already starting to sound annoyed. “And Yaku’s cleared. His knees aren’t glass.”
You leaned forward, voice clipped. “And he’s cleared with a note that says he needs flexibility emphasis. You’re pushing reps on a recovering joint. That’s not generalized, that’s reckless.”
His jaw ticked. “I’m not pushing anything he can’t handle. He’s an elite athlete, not a porcelain doll.”
You scoffed, shaking your head, pacing a few steps across the room. “Jesus, Hajime, sometimes I think you forget you’re not just coaching weight numbers—you’re managing people. People with injuries, with thresholds. If he gets benched because you want him to hit a personal best on a squat—”
“—Then that’s on me,” Iwaizumi cut in, standing now, matching your gaze, his voice sharp. “Not on you.”
You turned slowly, cold fury in your expression. “You’re damn right it won’t be on me. Because I’m not signing off on that.”
He stepped around the desk. “You don’t get to unilaterally veto a team decision.”
“You don’t get to override medical flags like you’re some goddamn authority on joint physiology.” You jabbed a finger into his chest. “Your job is to keep them strong. Mine is to keep them playing. If they’re hurt, no one wins.”
The tension hung thick between you both, barely bridled, mouths drawn tight like you were both holding back everything you really wanted to say.
“God, you’re infuriating,” he muttered under his breath.
“Right back at you.”
You turned sharply, storming to the door. You needed air. You needed to not strangle a nationally-ranked strength coach in the middle of an Olympic facility.
But when you threw the door open, two bodies fell inward with a crash.
Bokuto hit the ground first, limbs flailing like he’d just been knocked out of a tree. Atsumu came next, barely catching himself on the wall, eyes wide as he winced dramatically.
“Ow—shit—”
“Uh… hi?” Bokuto grinned sheepishly from the floor. “We were just… stretching.”
You stared down at them, blinking once. Then twice.
“Stretching,” you repeated flatly.
“In the hallway,” Atsumu added quickly, brushing himself off. “Gotta stay limber, you would know Doc.”
Your glare could’ve turned them to ash.
Behind you, Iwaizumi groaned under his breath.
“I’m going to kill both of you,” you muttered.
“No need!” Bokuto said, already scrambling back. “We were just leaving! Right, ’Tsumu?”
“Yup. Definitely not eavesdropping. Totally respect privacy.”
They both darted off like startled dogs, leaving behind only the faint sound of snickering down the hall.
You didn’t say another word. You just stepped out, slammed the door behind you, and willed your heart to stop pounding through your ribs.
—
The door had barely stopped vibrating when Iwaizumi let out a slow, audible sigh. He turned back to his desk, ran a hand through his hair, and stared blankly at the clipboard you’d left behind like it was personally mocking him.
God, you were impossible.
And you were right.
He wasn’t about to admit that—not to your face, not in front of a pair of eavesdropping idiots, and definitely not when your voice still echoed in his head like a challenge he hadn’t yet figured out how to win.
“Yo, Iwa.”
Iwaizumi turned, slowly, to see Atsumu leaning against the gym wall with all the subtlety of a spotlight. Bokuto was standing beside him, whispering something that earned him a smack on the arm.
“What,” Iwaizumi snapped. Not a question. A warning.
Atsumu raised his hands innocently. “Nothin’. Just, uh… wonderin’ if we’re still runnin’ through defensive drills. Or if you need a minute to, y’know, recover.”
“I’m fine.”
“You sure?” Bokuto grinned, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. “’Cause that sounded brutal. Like, she murdered you with words.”
Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes. “Do either of you want to do ten extra sets of burpees?”
“Shutting up!” Atsumu said quickly, throwing a thumbs-up before jogging off toward the court.
Bokuto lingered a second longer. “Hey,”
Iwaizumi looked up again.
“She’s not wrong. Yaku’s been wincing during cooldowns.”
Then he jogged off too, leaving Iwaizumi alone with nothing but the echo of your voice and the weight of the truth.
He grunted under his breath, shaking his head as he walked toward the training area, jaw tight. His athletes were waiting. The whistle was in his hand. He’d deal with you later.
But even as he barked out the next drill set, his mind drifted back to the fire in your voice, the way you jabbed a finger into his chest like you weren’t afraid of anything—not even him.
And for some goddamn reason, that wasn’t just infuriating.
It was distracting.
Worse: it was getting harder to ignore.
Pregnancy: Iwaizumi
The second the double doors of the weight room open, it’s like you’ve stepped into a different universe—a world of metal clanks, low grunts, chalk-dusted air, and the constant thud of iron plates hitting the floor. And now, slicing clean through that rhythmic storm of testosterone and hyper-focus, is you: very pregnant, slightly annoyed, and holding the wallet your husband managed to leave behind on the kitchen counter this morning. You didn’t think twice about walking the ten minutes over from your place. It’s not like you hiked a mountain—you waddled across pavement in sneakers. But by the way the entire Olympic volleyball team turns toward you in unison, you might as well be carrying a live grenade instead of a baby.
“WOAHHH—LOOK OUT! Civilian on the floor!” Bokuto’s voice booms across the room, sweaty hair sticking up, arms mid-air like you’d broken the rules of gravity just by showing up.
Atsumu, flat on a bench press with Kageyama spotting him, twists his head far too dramatically toward you and lets out a long, low whistle. “Ain’t no civilian, Bo. That’s Iwaizumi’s wife. And she’s lookin’ like she’s about to drop that baby right here in front of the dumbbells.”
You don’t even get the chance to sigh before you spot him—Hajime, towel around his neck, clipboard tucked under one arm, halfway through barking cues at someone doing squats. His head snaps toward you the second he hears Bokuto’s yell, and his entire body goes rigid. The clipboard hits the bench with a clatter. The towel is forgotten. His mouth moves, but there’s no time for words—he’s already weaving through machines and teammates, practically charging toward you like the floor itself might crumble under your feet.
“You walked here? Alone?” he demands as soon as he’s within a few feet, eyes scanning you from head to toe like he’s checking for bruises.
“I’m not made of paper, Hajime. I walked from the apartment. Not across a battlefield.” You hold the wallet up between two fingers, giving him a pointed look. “You left this on the counter, by the way.”
He takes it, but barely spares it a glance. His attention is completely on you—his wife, his very-pregnant-wife, standing in the middle of the Olympic team’s weight room surrounded by free weights, kettlebells, unstable mats, and volleyball players who think balance training on BOSU balls is a personality trait.
“This place isn’t safe for you,” he mutters under his breath, eyes narrowing at a barbell someone just let crash onto the floor nearby. “You shouldn’t be around this equipment. There’s too many ways you could trip, or get knocked, or—hell—slip on a chalk patch.”
You raise your eyebrows and gesture around you. “I am standing still, Hajime. On flat ground. Wearing shoes. Holding a wallet. This is not a life-threatening activity.”
His lips flatten into a tight line. “You’re thirty-eight weeks. You should be sitting, preferably somewhere padded, with a bottle of water and a snack within reach.”
You blink. “Are you reading off a checklist right now?”
He doesn’t answer.
At that moment, Komori jogs up with his usual bounce, sweat still gleaming on his forehead and a towel slung haphazardly over his shoulder. “Wait—this is your wife? The one we keep hearing about?”
“He doesn’t talk about her,” Kiryu calls from the dumbbell rack, not even bothering to look up. “He says stuff like ‘my wife made soup’ and ‘my wife needs pickles.’ That’s it. That’s all we get.”
You offer a small, amused smile and rest both hands on your stomach. “Hi. Yes. I’m Soup-and-Pickles. Thirty-eight weeks along. Full of baby. And apparently one bad step away from being put in a medically induced nap.”
There’s a chorus of laughter, though it’s mixed with soft whistles of awe as more of the team gravitates toward you. Aran strolls over with a light smile, while Hinata’s practically vibrating behind him.
“You really came all the way here?” Aran asks.
“It’s ten minutes from home,” you reply, shooting a glance up at your husband who still looks like he’s trying to map the safest escape route out of the gym for you. “I’m pregnant, not cursed.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Iwaizumi mutters. “You’re standing next to iron weights in Converse. That’s a hostile environment.”
You roll your eyes, adjusting the strap on your bag. “They’re high-tops. Extra support.”
Before he can scold you further, Hinata suddenly leans forward with stars in his eyes. “Is the baby kicking?”
“Oh yeah,” you nod, hand moving instinctively to the right side of your belly. “She’s training for nationals, I think. My ribs are her new personal practice net.”
“Can I feel?” Komori blurts out, his expression open and hopeful.
You’re about to say yes, but Hajime moves before you can answer, shifting his stance ever so slightly to put his body between you and Komori with the quiet intensity of a dad who’s already protective before the baby’s even born.
“She’s not a mascot,” he says flatly.
You place your palm on his chest. “Hajime. It’s fine.”
His eyes flicker to yours. He relents with a small sigh, stepping aside like it physically pains him to do so.
Komori gently places his hand on your stomach, and when the baby kicks, his face lights up like someone handed him a puppy. “Oh my god. That’s incredible.”
Kageyama peers over curiously. “Does it feel weird?”
“Like an alien living under your skin,” you say cheerfully. “And sometimes the alien cries when you don’t feed it grilled cheese at exactly 3 a.m.”
“Sounds terrifying,” Sakusa mumbles nearby, adjusting a band on his wrist.
“Iwaizumi,” Yaku calls from where he’s doing banded lunges, “you better give that kid rock-solid calves. I don’t care how. It’s your duty.”
“Oh, we’re starting this already?” you laugh. “Pressure before she’s even out of the womb?”
“Oh, we’ve been taking bets,” Suna says, finally looking up from his phone with the laziest smile. “Due date, hair color, position they’ll play.”
“Definitely not libero,” Bokuto adds, puffing his chest. “That baby’s got outside hitter energy.”
“I swear to god,” Iwaizumi mutters, dragging a hand down his face.
You press a soft kiss to his jaw and whisper just loud enough for him to hear, “You love it.”
He doesn’t answer. Just wraps one arm around your shoulders, pulling you gently into his side, hand resting low and protective on the curve of your stomach. He kisses the top of your head. Quiet. Steady.
You nudge him lightly and lift a brow. “Still mad I walked into the weight room?”
He looks down at you, expression flat. “I am always mad when you walk into a room with flying metal plates and men with the coordination of blindfolded rhinos.”
“I brought you your wallet.”
“And almost gave me a stroke in the process.”
You grin, dig into his pocket, and pull out one of his protein bars. “And I’m stealing your snack.”
“…Unbelievable.”
Confessions: Iwaizumi
The overhead lights buzz faintly, casting a dim yellow glow over empty desks and scattered papers. Practice ended hours ago, but you’re still here—half because you’re sorting through lineup sheets for Coach, and half because Iwaizumi never knows how to leave when Oikawa’s still in the gym pretending he’s immortal.
It’s just the two of you now. Oikawa finally gave up ten minutes ago, muttering something about stretching at home, and the silence that follows his absence is a rare kind of peace. You can hear Iwaizumi breathing again. That quiet, controlled rhythm he always slips back into once he isn’t yelling, chasing, fixing. The gym’s been quiet, too, like it’s exhaling after hours of pounding sneakers and shouting voices.
He’s sitting across from you now, chair turned backward, arms crossed over the backrest. Watching you. Probably not even trying to. He just does that—studies you like you’re part of the game plan, like your existence needs analyzing in case it ever falls out of line.
“You should go home,” you mutter without looking up, thumbing through one of the stat sheets. “You’re gonna pass out before you make it up the hill.”
“I could say the same to you,” he fires back, voice low, tired but still that familiar gravel that’s embedded itself into the fabric of your after-practice routine.
You shoot him a look, but it doesn’t have much heat. “Yeah, but I’m not the one who’s been diving face-first into the court all evening.”
He smirks. Leans his chin onto his forearm and shrugs, like the ache in his shoulder isn’t something he’s been carrying for weeks now. You wonder if he even notices the way he favors it. Probably. He just ignores it.
“You never quit,” you murmur, half to yourself.
“Neither do you.”
You don’t say anything to that. Mostly because it’s true. He sees right through you. Always has.
The silence stretches. It’s comfortable, warm in the way only Iwaizumi can make it feel. There’s no pressure to fill it. No need to perform. He’s always been like that—solid, grounded, the kind of person you could fall into without worrying if they’d catch you. And he would. Every time.
You’re not sure when you started noticing it. The way his hands lingered when he handed you a towel. The way he remembered how you liked your drinks cold, not iced. The way he always checked your clipboard before practice started, just in case you forgot something. He never made a show of it. He just… did. Like breathing.
You look up at him, and he’s already watching you.
You blink. “What?”
He shrugs again. “Nothing.”
“Creepy.”
His smirk deepens. “You’re the one talking to yourself.”
“I was talking to you.”
“Sure.”
You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling, and you hate that it’s so easy with him. So natural. Like your heart hasn’t been clenching in your chest for months now, like every little moment with him doesn’t echo louder than it should. It’s loud right now. Deafening.
You look back at the papers. “Seriously, though. You should rest. You’ve got a game this weekend, and if you overdo it now—”
“I know.”
Of course he knows. He always does. That’s part of the problem.
You press your thumb into your temple, eyes scanning over messy handwriting. Your back aches. Your stomach’s been growling since the second set ended. You know you should pack it up and go home, but there’s something sticky in the air tonight. Something that hasn’t settled.
“Here,” Iwaizumi says suddenly, and before you can react, he’s pushing something across the table.
A protein bar. Slightly squished, but still sealed.
Your brow furrows. “You brought this for me?”
He scratches at the back of his neck. “You always forget to eat after practice. Thought I’d try being useful.”
You stare at him. “You’re already useful. Like, medically essential. You’re the only reason Oikawa still has knees.”
He snorts. “I mean to you.”
The air shifts.
It’s subtle. Barely a tremor. But it leaves everything a little quieter, a little sharper.
You don’t answer. Just take the protein bar and turn it over in your hand. You trace the crinkled edges of the wrapper with your thumb like it’s a puzzle.
“Thanks,” you say finally, soft. “That’s… thoughtful.”
He shrugs like it’s nothing. But his eyes are still on you. Warmer now. He looks like he wants to say something else but doesn’t know if he should.
You try to focus on the sheets again, but your fingers don’t move. The pen in your hand feels suddenly pointless.
“You ever get tired of it?” you ask, your voice quieter now. “Doing everything for everyone else?”
He hums, leaning back. “Yeah. Sometimes.”
“Then why do you keep doing it?”
Another pause. His voice, when it comes, is soft. Almost too soft.
“Because I care.”
You glance up at him.
His eyes don’t waver. “It matters to me. That people are okay. That you’re okay.”
Your breath catches.
You open your mouth to say something, anything—but the words knot up in your throat. They don’t come.
And then, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, he says it.
“I love you.”
Just like that. No lead-up. No dramatics. Just the truth, falling out of his mouth like it’s been there the whole time. Like he’s been saying it in a hundred other ways already.
You freeze.
He freezes.
It’s only a heartbeat of silence, but it stretches. Stretches until it feels like the air might snap.
He blinks. Swallows hard. “I—shit. I didn’t mean to—I mean, I did, but I wasn’t gonna—fuck.”
You just stare at him.
He runs a hand through his hair, the picture of calm unraveling. “Forget I said that.”
“Hajime—”
“No, seriously. I didn’t want to make this weird. I just—shit, I don’t know. You were just… sitting there, and I—”
“Stop talking.”
He does. Immediately.
You reach for him without hesitation—close the space between you, one hand curling into the collar of his sweatshirt as you pull him down and press your lips to his.
It’s soft at first, like you’re testing the waters. But he responds almost instantly, his hands rising to your back, grounding you like always. Like he’s been waiting. Like he’s been holding his breath.
The kiss is short, almost clumsy, but it burns. You can feel every second of restraint he’s practiced up until this point unraveling between you.
When you finally pull away, breath shallow, he’s staring at you like he’s still trying to catch up. Like he’s not sure it really happened.
And then you smile, smug but breathless.
"Took you long enough," you whisper, your voice barely grazing the space between you before you're kissing him again—firmer this time, with all the words neither of you said until now pressed into the space where your mouths meet.
He smiles against your lips.
This time, he kisses you back like he means it.
Jealousy: Iwaizumi
Iwaizumi was good at controlling himself.
He had to be—he worked in a gym, surrounded by athletes, lifters, and fitness junkies who all looked like they were carved from stone. He’d seen enough shirtless guys flexing in mirrors to be immune to it.
Or at least, he thought he was immune.
Until today. Until this guy.
Some shredded gym bro with veins popping, abs tight, sweat glistening just right under the gym lights, standing at the bench press and calling for you.
Not him. Not any of the other trainers. You.
“Hey,” the guy said, voice smooth, cocky. “Think you can check my form?”
You—being the professional, non-suspecting menace that you are—nodded immediately. “Sure thing.”
Iwaizumi didn’t react at first. Just kept his eyes on you from across the room, his towel draped over his shoulder, fingers twitching slightly against the water bottle in his hand.
Because he already knew what was coming.
He knew what this guy wanted.
And so did you.
But that didn’t stop you from walking over, from crouching beside the guy, adjusting his grip, your fingers brushing against his forearm, his bicep, your voice sweet and focused.
Iwaizumi exhaled sharply through his nose.
You weren’t even flirting. You were genuinely coaching him. Adjusting his wrist placement, explaining the mechanics of the movement, giving clear, professional advice.
But the guy? He was milking it.
“Oh, like this?” he asked, purposefully getting it wrong again.
You frowned slightly, stepping closer, placing your hands lightly on his arms to guide him. “Not quite. Here, you should feel tension through your chest, not just your shoulders.”
You gave him a quick tap on his tricep, then his pec. “Feel that?”
The guy grinned. “Not really. Maybe I just need a better pump.”
Iwaizumi rolled his neck, a muscle in his jaw ticking.
You, ever the dedicated trainer, didn’t immediately clock the bullshit. Instead, you pressed lightly against his bicep, checking the engagement. “It should activate here—”
The guy flexed slightly, purely for show.
And that’s when Iwaizumi had enough.
He made his way over, casual but not really, and stopped beside you, tilting his head slightly.
“Boss is looking for you,” he said, voice low and impossible to argue with. “I’ll take over.”
You blinked, raising an eyebrow. “Wait, what—”
But he was already guiding you away, firm but careful, not giving you a chance to protest before turning back to the guy.
“Alright, man.” Iwaizumi cracked his knuckles, rolling his shoulders. “Let’s see that form.”
The guy nodded, picked up the bar—
And immediately, his form was perfect.
Not a single issue.
Iwaizumi just stared. “Huh.”
The guy hesitated, shifting awkwardly. "Uh… well, I just need a spot."
Iwaizumi nodded slowly, expression unreadable. "Oh. Yeah? No problem."
As he stepped into position behind the bench, you decided to check if your boss had actually needed you. You made your way toward the reception desk, leaning over slightly. "Hey, did the boss ask for me?"
The receptionist frowned, shaking their head. "Nope. Haven't seen them call for anyone."
You paused, then huffed out a small laugh, shaking your head to yourself. "It’s alright."
Turning around, you smiled knowingly.
By the time you returned, Iwaizumi was finishing up with the guy. "Yeah, your form is practically perfect now. Looks like that advice really helped."
The dude muttered a quick "Thanks" before grabbing his towel and heading toward the lockers, a little too quickly.
You raised a brow at Iwaizumi. "Boss didn't need me for anything."
He didn’t even flinch. "Huh. Weird."
You stared at him, lips twitching. "Super weird."
His smirk was casual, smug. "Well, he really did improve, didn’t he?"
You hummed, stretching your arms overhead before tilting your head at him, eyes playful. "If only I had someone to improve my form..."
Before you could take another step, his hand was on your waist, firm, warm, pulling you back against him. His other hand slid down, palming your ass with a slow squeeze that made your breath hitch.
He leaned in, voice low and rough. "Just wait until we get home."
Husbandry: Iwaizumi
It was the dead of night. Your shared bedroom bathed in the night, light speckling from the nightlife in Tokyo. It was perfectly peaceful, and ever since you had found out you were pregnant with Hajime's child, was the perfect condition for you to have a restful sleep. The temperature exactly how you wanted it, the right amount of blanket, and of course, your sleeping husband's chest to rest your head. And yet, you lay wide awake.
You sigh, turning the other way, hoping it would magically put you to sleep. It didn't. All you could focus on was your stomach eating itself in hunger. You hadn't expected your appetite to increase this much so fast, but instead of eating for two you, it was more like a small villiage. You curse yourself, giving into temptation of the beast in your stomach and move to get up. "Hm? Where are you going?" Your husband's voice is rough with sleep as he squints at you. You look at him somewhat sheepily before whispering back, "I'm just getting something to eat, go back to sleep" With a kiss to his forehead. You, thinking that would be all, are shocked when you still feel his hand pulling you back. "Hold on." He grunts as he also moves to get out of bed. You're quick to stop him, "Oh, no you don't have to-"
"Can I not feed my wife and kid?" He asks gently in your ear, giving you a kiss on the side of the head before taking you to the kitchen, heart fluttering in your chest so hard you could feel it.
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Favourite Positions: Iwaizumi
Of all the positions Hajime loved you in, you on top riding him was definitely his favourite.
Maybe it was because he loved the way your tits bounced, how a quick pinch of your nipple would make you squeeze his cock in all the right places. Or maybe it was the way he could grab your hips, ass plush and perfect for smacking.
But if he really thought about it, it was probably because he adored your face when you rode him. No matter how many times you get on top, your reaction is always the same.
“Haj-Hajime…” You panted, face flush pink with effort as you repeatedly slammed yourself down on his thick cock, slight drool leaving the corner of your lips. Your hands were gripping the headboard for support, knuckles whitening as you used your full strength to roll and ride your hips against his, purposefully grinding right against that spot that made you see stars.
He loved watching you lose yourself in him, the once respectable and cohesive woman he fell in love driving herself rabid. All just for him.
Your movements, once smooth and consistent, start to falter with exhaustion, sweat beading down your lower back. Still, you don’t stop, lost in pleasure.
Seeing you like this always drove him wild.
“Can’t get enough, can you?” Hajime rumbled, his hand moving from your ass trailing up your spine in a way that gave you shivers. He stopped at your neck, to which he grabbed and pulled you with a newfound vigor, pulling you so close that your breasts were flush against his chest. He had the chance to look at your eyes, so lost in lust as you panted hotly in his face.
“My turn now.”
With that, his other handheld down your hips as he began to thrust up into you.
Hard.
Drool hit his neck, and Hajime began his own rhythm, with you either trying to form words or a sentence, he isn’t sure. Your moans emphasised with each thrust, mingling perfectly with his grunts. You call out his name, hands moving from the headboards to his shoulders, your fingernails pressing sharp crescent moons into his skin.
“Please, please, please!” You yell, and Hajime immediately understands you. His hand moves from your neck down to where you two become one, as he rubs your clit masterfully. It only takes a few seconds till your whole-body tenses with nirvana. He feels your walls clench around him, milking him to his finish right as you come down from yours.
With a few messy thrusts, he’s left with a soft cock, your juices all over him, and a very sleepy and happy you.
Oh, yeah. Definitely his favourite.
Favourite Positions: Iwaizumi
Of all the positions Hajime loved you in, you on top riding him was definitely his favourite.
Maybe it was because he loved the way your tits bounced, how a quick pinch of your nipple would make you squeeze his cock in all the right places. Or maybe it was the way he could grab your hips, ass plush and perfect for smacking.
But if he really thought about it, it was probably because he adored your face when you rode him. No matter how many times you get on top, your reaction is always the same.
“Haj-Hajime…” You panted, face flush pink with effort as you repeatedly slammed yourself down on his thick cock, slight drool leaving the corner of your lips. Your hands were gripping the headboard for support, knuckles whitening as you used your full strength to roll and ride your hips against his, purposefully grinding right against that spot that made you see stars.
He loved watching you lose yourself in him, the once respectable and cohesive woman he fell in love driving herself rabid. All just for him.
Your movements, once smooth and consistent, start to falter with exhaustion, sweat beading down your lower back. Still, you don’t stop, lost in pleasure.
Seeing you like this always drove him wild.
“Can’t get enough, can you?” Hajime rumbled, his hand moving from your ass trailing up your spine in a way that gave you shivers. He stopped at your neck, to which he grabbed and pulled you with a newfound vigor, pulling you so close that your breasts were flush against his chest. He had the chance to look at your eyes, so lost in lust as you panted hotly in his face.
“My turn now.”
With that, his other handheld down your hips as he began to thrust up into you.
Hard.
Drool hit his neck, and Hajime began his own rhythm, with you either trying to form words or a sentence, he isn’t sure. Your moans emphasised with each thrust, mingling perfectly with his grunts. You call out his name, hands moving from the headboards to his shoulders, your fingernails pressing sharp crescent moons into his skin.
“Please, please, please!” You yell, and Hajime immediately understands you. His hand moves from your neck down to where you two become one, as he rubs your clit masterfully. It only takes a few seconds till your whole-body tenses with nirvana. He feels your walls clench around him, milking him to his finish right as you come down from yours.
With a few messy thrusts, he’s left with a soft cock, your juices all over him, and a very sleepy and happy you.
Oh, yeah. Definitely his favourite.