#(iwaizumi; interactions)

[kwadlayns]

talk to me in french, talk to me in spanish 🍒

[hinata-boke]

what r they doing

[liillyliilly]

Mind Games

iwaizumi hajime x reader words; 14055 synopsis; Whether by fate or luck, they had always been seated right next to each other. Every year, they were desk-mates. She liked to play Go, a game that used a lot of mental planning and strategy. He did not like the way his own brain played games with him, psyching him out every time he was near her. It's just too bad that she's dating one of her club members, leaving Iwaizumi to spend too much time in his own head.

She always thought he was mildly bothersome. The same guy that arm wrestled on her table, when she had the full intention of playing Go instead. Maybe if she had been a part of the chess team instead this all could’ve been prevented. That way she could’ve spent lunchtime with them instead of solely with her strange, but still sweet, best friend.

She focused back to the issue at hand.

“Iwaizumi Hajime, this is my table too.” She shook her box that had the black and white stones she spent so many hours playing with, capturing and expanding territory in the classical intellectual game of Go. Ito Yuuta was hovering around the door, waiting to be invited inside the classroom to join her in their game from yesterday. She had a picture of the board and needed to set it up again the way it had been left.

He just slammed down another kid with his arm, getting patted on the back by one of his fellow club members. “Ah, yeah, my bad, sorry. Truly.” Iwaizumi’s face was red, and she thinks that maybe arm wrestling was more intensive than it appeared.

He ushered the group of boys to clean their stuff off the table so she could set her board down on the desk in the classroom. Sometimes it irked her how much he would neglect to acknowledge that the set of desks right next to each other were not in fact, both of his to utilize in activities between classes. She had a claim to her desk and he had a claim to his desk. That’s all there was to it.

Every year, without fail, when she picked a charm before school started, she always got the Unlucky charm. That unluckiness manifested in the personage that was Iwaizumi, because every year, since elementary school, he had been her seatmate. Iwaizumi himself wasn’t mean or rude, he just lacked a sense of personal space. Especially regarding their desk situation.

She supposes that her family name may have played a role in the seating charts, but even midway through the year when desks were shuffled, she always sat next to Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi was really nice though, she did have to admit. And while they weren’t best friends, or extremely close, she did have to admit that she enjoyed his presence more often than not, so she enjoyed the friendship she had with Iwaizumi.

She sat down at her desk, laying out the board and starting to set up the stones. She noticed Ito still awkwardly standing on the threshold of the room, and she waved him over. He pulled around a chair so the two of them were sitting knee to knee around the Go board.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa were already out in the hallway, heading downstairs, aiming to go outside to the tables that were out there. Matsukawa was folding bills in his hands, collecting money from other boys who thought they could beat Iwaizumi. Hanamaki was chewing on a stick of licorice. When the duo noticed that Iwaizumi wasn’t behind them, they turned around.

Only to see Iwaizumi outside the room, but still keeping his head in the room. It looked silly to Hanamaki, to see Iwaizumi almost splayed out against the wall trying to balance while he was trying to watch what was happening in the classroom he had previously occupied.

“Oi! Hajime! I have three guys lined up for you still, hurry!” Matsukawa’s deep timbre broke Iwaizumi out of his trance, as he turned on his heel to catch up with his friends.

Hanamaki glanced at Matsukawa, then back to Iwaizumi who had his hands tucked into his pockets, slouching a little.

Matsukawa caught wind of what Hanamaki was trying to get him to notice, and Matsukawa tucked the bills into his back pocket. Hanamaki decided to instigate a titch, talking over Iwaizumi and making eye contact with Matsukawa.

“She’s really irritating. Thinking she can just kick us out of the classroom.” Hanamaki clocked how Iwaizumi’s shoulders stiffened.

Matsukawa gave a lazy grin, “Yeah, and her infant of a boyfriend is such a twerp, lurking around the room so he can play with her.”

“Not to mention, the school does way too much for her. I mean, what’s a couple of Go championships have on true athletics?”

Iwaizumi stopped dead in his tracks, the three of them right near the exit to go outside. Hanamaki and Matsukawa took a few more steps until Iwaizumi spoke, “You bastards are so rude, did you know that? Screw human decency and shove it all off I guess? You’re both on par with Shittykawa himself.” He waved his hand in irritation and had a scowl on his face.

He pushed past them and sat down at a table with a thud, putting his forehead on the table and clasping his hands over the back of his head. He was bouncing his knee anxiously, enjoying the way the cold outdoors air cooled down the flush on his face.

Today it was how she had said his full name, just hearing his given name on her tongue had his heart stuttering.

Hanamaki chuckled, “Caught him.”

Matsukawa snickered, “Hook, line and sinker Hiro.”

“Great game Issei, we should do it again sometime soon.” Hanamaki held his fist out, and Matsukawa gave it a solid bump.

“Sooner rather than later, he’s so boring when he’s lovestruck and down bad like this. How many years has it been now?”

“I’ve counted four, but I think he’s liked her since they first met.”

Oikawa strutted outside, putting a hand on each of their shoulders, “What are you two plotting this time?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy.” Hanamaki throws up the middle finger in Oikawa’s direction as he and Matsukawa walk to go sit with Iwaizumi.

Oikawa throws his hands up into the air and rolls his eyes. “You guys can’t make jokes like that because my mom restricts my internet access.” He groans before jogging over to his friends.

Back inside the classroom, while Ito had picked up his black stone and was thinking about which notch to play it on, she glanced outside the window. She already knew what her next three plays would be regardless of where Ito had placed his stone. The cool wind from the open window next to her desk was always pleasant. The flowers were just beginning to blossom again after a particularly cold winter.

Even though she and Iwaizumi shared a desk partnership, he always asked the teacher if they could swap who was sitting by the window. She asked him about why he liked sitting on the outside of their desks, rather than the inner side by the wall and the windows.

He hadn’t even really given her an answer, he just stuttered and shoved his hands into his pockets. She had offered him an answer, asking him if he just preferred the elbow room from sitting near the aisle. He nodded furiously before running a hand through his spiky black hair and accidentally getting a strand of hair stuck on a ring he had been wearing.

“Just freeze.” She had told him. The bell had rung for a passing period for teachers to change classes and for students to stretch their legs. Iwaizumi’s hand was still stuck to his hair. She leaned over a little, not needing to do much to get closer due to their desk arrangement.

Her knees were brushing against his thigh, and she reached up into his hair to try and solve the puzzle of disconnecting his ring from his hair. The ring was a clunky metal one, on his ring finger. She finally saw where the hair had gotten snagged on one of the sharp curves of his ring.

She gently tugged his hand out of the ring, so both his hands were free but the ring was still in his hair. She spent another few seconds untangling his hair and got the ring free.

“There we go.” She tossed the ring into the air before catching it again. She smiled and held the ring out on her palm for Iwaizumi to grab. He was still frozen. His hands were toying with a different ring on his other hand. “Hello?”

He shook his head before grabbing the ring. Letting out a gruff, but surprisingly earnest, “Thank you so much.”

“It’s no problem.” She turned her head back around so she could look outside, the snow coating the ground and layering over the trees. She sighed a little, reaching out to draw shapes on the cold glass that was fogging up slightly in the corner.

Unbeknownst to her, Iwaizumi let out a deep sigh as well. He had laid his arm out on his desk, resting his head on it as he looked up at her slightly. He was observing the way her face seemed to focus on the snowflakes outside the room and the way her pointer finger gently glided over the glass of the window.

That’s why he liked to sit on the outside. He could pretend he was looking out the window as well, when he was really just looking at her.

The smell of flowers brought her to attention, as well as Ito’s stone making a click on the Go board and him saying, “Your move.”

She held the white ceramic playing piece in her hand, rolling the heavy toy along her palm with her fingers. She saw Iwaizumi on the bench, getting poked by his friends as he lifted an arm to try and defend himself from getting prodded. Then someone she didn’t know came around and sat opposite to Iwaizumi, rolling up his sleeve. She lost interest quickly after that.

She sat down the stone, capturing several of Ito’s and he made a short whimper sound at losing so much traction in the game. She picked up his pieces and put them in the side bowl reserved for his captured stones. Her next two moves went identically, and their short one hour game, from both yesterday and today, had ended the same way most her other games went, with her winning.

“Sorry Yuuta, maybe tomorrow you’ll have better luck.”

Yuuta scoffed, “Yeah right, I’m glad we don’t play in the same division for a reason.”

He started cleaning up the pieces and putting them back into her opened box, arranging the bowls of stones where they went and sealing lids over the bowls.

“Any luck on finding another member for next year? You can’t have a Go club with just one player.”

“My brother will come here next year, he’ll be in the club.”

She crosses her leg, chewing on her bottom lip, “Anyone else? Maybe you could aim for two new members next year?”

“Face it, Go isn’t popular at this school, despite your best efforts, and all the awards you rake in. If we went somewhere like Shiratorizawa or a different prep school then maybe the story would be different.” Ito slung his backpack over his shoulder, standing up right as the bell rang.

She grabbed his hand before he left, “Thank you, really. You’re the best vice captain a girl could ask for Yuuta.”

Ito rubbed his thumb over her knuckles in a friendly gesture.

“Well, anything for you.”

She smiled as Yuuta carefully slid past Iwaizumi who was making his way to his seat next to her.

“How tall is he?”

She was still getting her math textbook out of her desk. Iwaizumi assumed maybe she hadn’t heard him, so he repeated his words, “How tall is he?”

She looked at Iwaizumi and pointed at herself, he nodded.

“How tall is Yuuta?” She repeated, making sure her understanding was correct.

“Yeah, how tall is he?”

“Like 193 centimeters I think? He had this crazy growth spurt these past couple of months.” She laid her book out, opened to the page the teacher was writing on the board. “Why?”

“No reason.” Iwaizumi knew why he had asked. Iwaizumi was barely cutting it at 179.3 centimeters, but there went her boyfriend who was almost a full fourteen centimeters taller than him. He shoved his hand into his desk, looking for his pen case. “Damn it.”

“What is it?” She had her plastic gel pen in her mouth, lightly between her teeth while she waited for class to officially start. Iwaizumi gulped a little at the way her lips were pressed against the body of the pen.

“I left my pencil at home. I have my pens, I just can’t do math in a pen.”

She nodded, closing her mouth around the pen, she reached into her pencil case and handed Iwaizumi a simple wooden pencil from her bag. She gave the pencil a slight shake in front of Iwaizumi.

He accepted it after a moment, muttering thanks.

When she smiled as a response to his gratitude the pen in her mouth dropped to the ground. Iwaizumi, without much thinking, bent down to pick it up for her. She, also without much thought, also bent down to pick up her pen. When they hit their heads against each other, she let out a soft ouch and rubbed the top of her head.

“My gods I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think,” Iwaizumi cringed internally, how much longer could he keep going like this, stammering and not even being able to get out a full length sentence. He was supposed to be a third year student for heaven’s sake. His ears were already burning and he fully believed he was going to get a lasting permanent burn from how hot the blood was that rushed to his ears.

She told him not to worry, that there wasn’t anything to apologize for, but she kept rubbing her head, trying to use sensory overload so that the pain wouldn’t be as bad. “It’s fine. Class is starting, let’s just focus, okay?”

He could, decidedly so, not focus. Especially not when she kept putting that stupid pen in her mouth, the worst part was when she took it out of her mouth to write down a note or to finish solving a problem and his brain was filtering in a pop sound each time her lips opened. He had to rub his face in his hand every time he caught himself drifting over to her instead of the chalkboard up in the front of the room.

Her perfume was light, but he was so tuned into her that he practically absorbed the scent. It was just a silly vanilla smell, but he was almost tripping over himself each time she moved her head and he could smell the scent from her neck just a bit better.

Iwaizumi was always glad that he went to the first day of school at least an hour early. Maybe it was slightly manipulative, maybe he was trying to weigh the scale in his favor, but he didn’t care. The teachers were always so oddly receptive to his request too.

Each new year, starting in the first year of middle school, he went to his homeroom teacher early and asked to be placed next to her. He knew that in middle school the seating chart wouldn’t be solely based on a family name basis, so his chances of losing out on sitting next to her would reduce drastically.

The first time he had had the conversation with the teacher it went something vaguely akin to him pleading and then the teacher taking pity on Iwaizumi and agreeing to the seating arrangement.

After that first year, that same homeroom teacher contacted the second year homeroom teacher he was going to have. The teacher had simply said, “If you want to be thoroughly entertained, then you need to sit him next to her. I’ve never been more engaged during study hall than watching him try and befriend her.”

Iwaizumi wasn’t aware, but when the jump from middle school to high school was made, all three of his homeroom teachers had personally contacted his first year of high school teacher and had collectively bargained for him- just so that he could be sat next to her.

And now, while Iwaizumi was struggling to solve this equation during the ten minute practice period in the middle of class, the math teacher was watching him extremely closely.

So what if all the teachers at Aoba Johsai that had Iwaizumi had a group chat, and so what if they shared any sort of progress details he had made. So what if they got mad when a different boy tried to talk to her during passing periods when Iwaizumi was struggling to find a reason not to leave his desk so he could stay near her. Adults were allowed some form of entertainment as well.

The day came to a close at Aoba Johsai High School, and she was busy packing up her stuff, having to pull everything out so she could take her Go board home. Typically she would leave it in her locker, but she wanted to polish some of the stones, so she would take it home today.

Ito Yuuta and Hanamaki Takahiro both made their way to her classroom after the final bell had rung. Ito let Hanamaki enter the room before he followed suit.

Hanamaki slumped down in Iwaizumi’s seat, resting his feet on the desk. She just raised an eyebrow and finished Tetris-ing her bag. She looked to Ito who just shrugged but held up his phone, which communicated to her that Ito would text her later about whatever it was he wanted to say. Hanamaki watched as Ito left the room, then leaned back into the chair and rubbed his mouth with his hand.

“Yes? Is there something I can do for you Hanamaki?” She put her hand on her hip and lolled her head around to look him in the eyes.

“Listen.” Hanamaki starts, and she nods , zipping up her bag. “So, I don’t know if you know this, but us volleyball third years are absolutely trash at English. Iwaizumi more than the rest of us.”

She continued nodding, she thought that Iwaizumi was doing particularly well in English, having seen his test grades when papers and exams were handed back. But she supposes maybe not if Hanamaki is telling her this.

“I’d like to be the one to invite you to a study session at Iwaizumi’s house this weekend, it’s a sort of sleep-over situation, but his dad will be home the whole weekend so no need to worry sweetheart. Oikawa and Matsukawa will also be there. It should be fun.”

She pauses for a moment, slowly putting her backpack on. “Can I bring a friend?”

Hanamaki takes his feet off the desk, wiping away the dirt that fell from his shoes onto the desk. “Tall curly brunette that sits with you at lunch?” He posed.

“Ito, yes.” It was a wonder that Hanamaki could befriend anyone she thinks, he’s all bite and no bark.

“Yeah, no. There’s only so many extra futon mattresses.”

“I could bring an extra?” She begins to walk out of the classroom, needing to get home to start polishing her Go materials if she wanted them ready by the tournament. She never used her personal board, it was just a naturalistic routine to get her into the right mindset.

Hanamaki chuckles, “That’s not how this whole sleepover thing works.”

“Okay, well, why me? There’s plenty of other people I would assume you guys want to hang out with over me. I’ve never even loaned you a pencil before Hanamaki. I don’t even have your number.”

“Leave it all to me, just say you’ll come.”

What harm did it do to help these poor boys out before midterms?

“Sure, this Saturday then?”

“Yes. I’ll text you. See you there!”

Hanamaki hustled out of the classroom, getting outside quicker than she could stage an invasion on her opponent's side of the board when playing Go.

She settled into the reality that boys are weird and that she was the only sane person in the universe.

Iwaizumi was pulling his hair out as Hanamaki ate a bag of chips in his living room.

“You did not.” Iwaizumi began to pace back and forth, entirely dumbfounded that his supposed friend would go out of his way to craft a fake tutoring session that would last all night. A full twelve plus hours of her, plus it would be at his house, plus there would be pajamas involved. “I can’t believe you told her that all of our hang outs require pajamas as the attire.”

Iwaizumi dragged a hand across his face.

Hanamaki shrugged, shoving a handful of potato chips into his mouth, then speaking while the chewed up bits of food were still in his teeth, “Don’t lie to yourself, you’re glad that this is happening. You’re glad that I just crafted the perfect catalyst for you to make out with her under the stars. Also, you getting to see what kind of pajamas she wears ought to earn me some Hajime brownie points.”

Iwaizumi lifted his hands up, “I hate you so much. Genuinely, you’re the worst. She knows I’m decent at English too, Hiro, she knows that something is up.”

Hanamaki rolls his eyes and tosses the empty bag away, patting his stomach, “Do you have licorice?”

“Yeah, cupboard.”

Hanamaki throws up his thumb and goes into the kitchen to acquire his third snack since arriving at Iwaizumi’s house twenty minutes ago.

Since today was Thursday, he still had Friday to try and reverse any damage that Hanamaki had caused.

On Friday, during lunch, he decided to stay inside and eat in the classroom. She had brought a lunch from home and was reading a book, her elbow resting on her desk- holding her thick book, and her other hand had her chopsticks lifting bits of rice and chicken into her mouth intermittently.

Iwaizumi scanned for her boyfriend. Then he realized that her boyfriend would probably know all about her going over to his house on Saturday, so maybe she would gently let Iwaizumi down and tell him that her boyfriend said she couldn’t tutor his rowdy group of friends this weekend.

“Can I sit here?” He grabbed the back of his chair, balancing his tray in his other hand.

She chuckles, using one hand to put her bookmark where she had left off in the book, setting the book down in the corner of her desk. “That’s your desk, it would be weird if I said you couldn’t sit there.”

He chuckles just like she had, nodding in agreement.

He thinks about what to say to her, but can’t find the words, so he resigns to sipping on his carton of apple juice.

“You don’t normally eat in the classroom, what’s the reason for your change in behavior?”

He liked that she talked slightly strangely, sometimes she would say things in a long round-about way instead of simply using basic phrases to convey her thoughts. He liked it because he could hear her voice for just a bit longer.

Iwaizumi shrugs, taking a bite of the salmon on his plate.

“Well, it’s nice to see a fellow athlete appreciating the calm that is a classroom during lunch.” She smiles.

Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow, and without much thought, inserts a statement that triggers her, “Go isn’t really a sport though.”

She dropped her chopsticks, clattering to the ground. He feels like the most inconsiderate imbecile ever to walk the earth. He prayed to the gods to just relieve him of the pain of having such a thick skull.

“Iwaizumi, I will make you eat your words because Go is the most intensive mind sport there is in the entire world and you will see how difficult it is once you play one match with me.” She realizes that it really isn’t that serious, but it felt like an insult to her passion. She knew that he likely didn’t have any sort of foul intention with his words, he just didn’t understand Go the way that she did.

“Bring your Go board then, on Saturday.” Iwaizumi almost visibly winces. His whole goal in eating lunch at his desk had been to diffuse the idea of a sleepover, but here he was, actively encouraging it. Subconscious thoughts and desires crept up on him like a sort of rain, pittering down slowly, and as you watch the small dark dots appearing on the ground, suddenly you’re soaked from head to toe. In this case, his deep yearning to spend time with her manifested in encouraging Hanamaki’s criminal approach to matchmaking.

“I will then, and you’ll see what a real athlete looks like, an athlete of the mind.” She taps her temple a few times, grabbing her chopsticks from the ground and saying she’s going to go wash them.

Iwaizumi shudders. He had a lot of cleaning to do to prepare for Saturday.

When he got home, he started with the living room and then worked his way out to all the other areas of his house.

His dad, Haruo, appreciated the cleanliness when he got home from work, but seeing his teenage son scrubbing the floor vigorously on his hands and knees might have been overkill for the older man.

“Hajime, what are you doing?”

“I’m having friends over on Saturday night, they’ll leave Sunday morning.” He wipes some sweat from his forehead before going back to his rag and scrubbing in a circular motion.

“It’s just your buddies, what’s all the cleaning for? They all practically live here anyway, they know what a sty it can be here.” Haruo dropped his bag on the coat hanger, kicked his shoes off in the walkway, and stepped up to enter the main living portion of his house.

Haruo looked at the family photos on the wall along the hallway to the main living room, seeing a toothless Hajime being held by his late wife, Hana. He put two fingers to his lips before pressing the fingers to her face through the glass of the frame. Haruo whispered a quick, ‘love you’ before focusing on Hajime again.

“It’s not just Hiro and Issei and Tooru.”

“Oh, do tell? That junior of yours who came around once? The one with the bleached hair? He kind of looks like a puppy?” Haruo sat on the couch, surprised that Hajime had also cleaned the fabric cases of the couch cushions.

Iwaizumi let out a deep sigh, “You know that girl from middle school?”

How could Haruo forget her?

“And you want her over here? With all your friends?”

“Believe me, I was not the coordinator for this.”

Haruo laughed, a deep humor from his chest. He needed to sleep, work had been hard, but he was glad that he had spent some time talking to his son. As he walked to his bedroom, he ruffled Iwaizumi’s hair.

Iwaizumi had finished cleaning around ten at night, stretching his back and scratching the back of his neck, he looked around the house. He applauded himself on having done a good job cleaning. It would be Saturday tomorrow, and he didn’t know if he was stressed from the anxiety of her being around or the excitement of her being around.

Iwaizumi went into the hallway to grab his house slippers, when he stopped at the picture frames. His dad always touched the one of his mom holding him when he was an infant, so there was slight discoloration on the glass right where his mom’s face was.

His dad knew who she was, because she was the only one to come to their house besides Oikawa Tooru during his entire second year of middle school.

She had come with a bouquet of flowers, of lilies.

Iwaizumi remembers that entire day much too vividly for comfort.

He had needed to go back to school after missing it for almost three whole weeks. His mom’s funeral had been the week prior. Staying in the hospital for one full week while she was slowly dying had crushed Iwaizumi’s soul. There isn’t much that you can do for someone once they get ovarian cancer.

He had cried so much when his mom told him that she wouldn’t be doing any more chemotherapy or treatments the month before she died. He had begged her to just try one more, but she had to find a way to gently tell her son that she wanted her quality of life in her last days to be something less painful than if she had undergone various chemical treatments.

“Mom, just one more. You can fight this.” Iwaizumi was tugging on her hand. His dad was sitting on the opposite side of the room, crouched into himself with his shoulders heaving and stuttering from the silent cries he was letting out. “Why won’t you just fight a little more. For me, you won’t even fight for me?”

Iwaizumi had looked to his dad for back up, but was said was done.

“Hajime, you don’t understand now, but you’ll understand later. Please just don’t be mad.” Hana, his beloved mother, was trying to soothe him by gently rubbing his hand with hers.

“I’m not mad, I just want you to try. You say that I don’t understand, and I really don’t, but I do know that you can fight a little more.” He looked into his mom’s olive colored eyes, “Please mom. Please.”

When she frowned sadly, Iwaizumi just cried, wrapping his arms around his mom and getting her hospital gown wet with tears.

The week after her funeral procession, Iwaizumi felt alone. Not even Oikawa could do anything to relieve the pain of losing a parent. No one could do anything.

And at the ripe age of fourteen, she understood that as well. Iwaizumi’s seatmate. Maybe she felt like she needed to do something, because she had missed the way Iwaizumi would steal her eraser without asking, or the way that he’d been gone for so long. Her desk felt empty without Iwaizumi there. So when he returned, but as the shell of himself, she knew she had to find some way to show that she cared.

She couldn’t take away pain, but she could mourn with him. That’s a lesson her own parents had taught her. A friend who mourns with you, is a friend for life. When you mourn with those who mourn, you are honoring those who passed and those that still live with that pain.

It was during lunch, and the teacher had said that everyone would need to leave the classroom for lunch, letting Iwaizumi stay inside the classroom by himself.

That was the only time she broke the rules. When she snuck away from the cafeteria, and went into that empty classroom.

He had his head on his desk, bento left unopened. His body would sometimes tighten and shake, trying to hold back audible cries.

Silent cries were always more painful than loud wails she thought. A silent cry carries a sense of belonging to the agony and a consistent resistance against peace. A loud cry is a relief, you can let go when you cry and people can hear you. But when a person cries silently, they hold in their pain and won’t let anyone share the burden of it.

She opened the door, stepping into the classroom. The overhead lights seemed too bold, too cruel, too unloving for this moment.

She sat down, and began to eat her lunch. She didn’t say anything, she just kept eating and chewing.

Iwaizumi had been upset that she came into the room.

“What the hell do you want?” He was facing away from her, head still on his desk. She was sitting face forward, at her desk. It annoyed her that he was being so curt. She had to let it go, realizing his reaction was more likely out of his sorrow than actual intent to be mean to her specifically.

“I want to mourn with you.”

“Oh, shut up. You don’t know anything.”

“I don’t. But I’m here. I’ll leave if you want me to.” She drank from her water bottle.

Iwaizumi cried in a small voice, she could hear it this time. “She didn’t want to fight anymore.”

The way his words cracked in his throat. The way he lifted his head to make eye contact with her. The way his face was morphed into a shadow of who he was supposed to be.

She started crying when his first tear fell straight from his eye to the space between their desks. She just hugged him. At first, he resisted, trying to break out of the hold. But then he could hear the way her heart pounded in her ribcage.

He hugged her back and had his face in her neck.

It was thirty minutes of crying, some minutes went by quieter than others.

But tears dry up eventually.

“What do you think my mom’s life looks like without me? Can she still hear my voice? Is she watching down on me?” Iwaizumi had rubbed his eyes raw, leaving red everywhere he had touched.

“I think that she’s all around you.” Iwaizumi clenched his jaw, but she kept going. “Even though you can’t hear her or see her, she’s there. She’ll always be there for you.”

“Why did you come?” Iwaizumi started eating his food, extremely small bites, but bites nonetheless.

“I told you earlier. I came to mourn.” She gives Iwaizumi her bowl of chicken broth, and he tries to push it away, but she insists, and he downs it before continuing to speak. She wanted to settle the issue, but he bothered her with more insistence.

“No really, you could’ve just ignored me, just let everything go. But you came.”

“You’re stubborn. I’ve known you for almost three years now, and you’re stubborn. But also, your heart is so sensitive. You take in everything and hold it close. I figured you might need someone who you can express everything too without having to put on a face of composure.”

After school, she had bought lilies from the farmer’s market.

She had asked Oikawa Tooru how to get to Iwaizumi’s house, and Oikawa drew a map for her.

When she had gotten to the door, she tucked the map into her pocket and knocked gently.

Iwaizumi Haruo, the man who had just lost his wife, the mother of his son, saw this sweet kid holding a neatly wrapped bouquet of lilies. She was bowing deeply, holding the flowers out for him to take. Haruo had hesitantly accepted the flowers, and she bowed again.

“I’m sorry for your loss. Please let me know if there is anything I can do to help.” She couldn’t have been any more mature for her age, Haruo had thought. Hajime had turned the corner in his house, finally seeing that she was at the door.

And for the first time in a really long time, Iwaizumi Hajime had smiled.

Saturday came soon enough, and Iwaizumi was dressed in his school uniform. Which in hindsight might not have been the most optimal outfit choice when Hanamaki, Matsukawa, and Oikawa came barreling in wearing their pajamas and dumping their stuff in the middle of the living space

Oikawa just rubbed the space in between his eyebrows, “Iwa-chan, why are you wearing school clothes? You know it’s a Saturday right? This is supposed to be a pajama thing.” Oikawa tugged on his Hello Kitty bottoms, demonstrating to Iwaizumi what attire was supposed to be worn.

Matsukawa had turned on the radio, playing GOT7’s “If You Do”. When Iwaizumi asked what Matsukawa was doing, he replied with, “Playing music to set the mood. It’s a song about being desperate for a girl. You know, your whole pining thing you got going on. I thought that my music choice would’ve made for sense, but you’re just oblivious.”

Iwaizumi slapped Matsukawa upside the head, clicking his tongue.

“How much money to enact your little scheme today?” Hanamaki inspected his fingernails, lounging on Iwaizumi’s couch in his living room.

“How much money? You’ve got to be kidding me here Hiro. Shittykawa make this man see reason.” Iwaizumi directed Oikawa’s attention to Hanamaki, but Oikawa just shrugged.

“I don’t know Iwa-chan, if you really liked her then you’d be willing to pay Hiro for his services.”

“Hiro’s going to simply befriend one of her friends under the guise of him having a crush, then find out everything about her for me. That falls under friend duties.”

Matsukawa rolled his eyes, “Iwaizumi you sound crazy, just ask her to hang out one on one, we have like what? Three months left of school? Muster up some of your Ace energy and confess. I’m tired of you acting like your own personal cock-block for these last four agonizing years.”

Oikawa looked at Matsukawa incredulously, “Four years? Nah, Iwa-chan’s been whipped for like at least six years at least. I really don’t understand why, she’s not-”

Iwaizumi threw a sock at Oikawa that he had hastily taken off his foot while balancing on one leg. “Finish that sentence and I’ll shove the other sock down your mouth.”

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Iwaizumi was too engrossed in continuing to insult Oikawa to notice. Hanamaki giggled, then he wiped the pleased expression off his face, “Sorry Iwa, me and Issei got to get back to my house for dinner, my mom is making curry tonight, be back later.”

Oikawa remembered the other plan, the one that Hanamaki had made a separate group chat for last night, rushing to say his part, “I have to take Takeru to that new kid’s movie, I’ll be back around ten.”

“What the hell, I thought we were hanging out.” Iwaizumi lifted up his shirt, planning to change into a tank top. Only once his shirt was entirely off, did Hanamaki open the front door.

She was standing right there, holding both a Go board and the English textbook. “Hanamaki? Matsukawa? Oikawa?” She took a step back, letting the boys exit Iwaizumi’s house as they all told her to have a good time while giving their various excuses why they had to leave. When she took a step forward, she saw Iwaizumi struggling to get his button-up back on. The sleeves were stuck and his head was covered in the body of the shirt.

She could see the solid outline of his abdomen, and the way his back muscles were constricting as he fought with the shirt to get it back on. She felt her body naturally produce some drool, which she just swallowed and pretended like it didn't occur.

It would be rude to just let him struggle, right? She set the Go board down on top of the textbook.

“Freeze for me.” She stated and Iwaizumi stopped wiggling, arms still up in the air.

“Kill me now please.” Iwaizumi said, but it was muffled due to his head being surrounded by fabric.

She snickered a little, “You have other shirts around yeah?”

“I live here, so yes.”

“There’s no need for the snark, I’m helping you.” In one fell swoop she yoinked the sleeves of his top and pulled it off him, she stumbled back from the force, but managed to get the top successfully off.

His face was entirely red, and he had folded his arms over his body. Ignoring the particularly good look she got at his biceps and forearms, she handed the top back to him.

“You should go finish changing, I’ll set my English book up.” She gave him a smile, neglecting the way her ears felt hot.

“Yeah, I’ll, I’ll go do that. Thanks for stripping me.” Iwaizumi mentally slapped his face, “Thanks for taking my shirt off.” He paused and rubbed his forehead, there really was no good way to say this that didn’t end up with him imagining pushing her up against a wall and kissing her.

She laughed at his rapid fire speech.

Iwaizumi had finished changing into a pair of grey plaid bottoms and a black hoodie when he came back out to the living room. She was wearing black sweatpants and a tight-fitting white shirt. He swallowed, before going to sit near her at the coffee table where she had the textbook open and some paper with notes.

“They’ll be back right?” She didn’t look up from her paper, finishing an outline for what she was planning on teaching Iwaizumi.

“Yeah, in a few hours.”

She looked up at him and he felt like the only person in the world. Her mouth was moving but he couldn’t hear anything. She snapped her fingers and stuck her pen into her mouth.

It was always that pen that brought him back to focusing.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I know you don’t need to be tutored.”

His breathing hitches.

“You just wanted to play Go, Hanamaki is the one that needs English tutoring.” She explained her thought process, and how Hanamaki had been the one to ask for her help. “So, let’s play Go for a bit.”

Iwaizumi went back to breathing normally again. Matsukawa’s playlist was still going, and Iwaizumi supposed that he must still have had control over the music because suddenly the song changed to “Sex Tape” by OZI and Sunset Rollercoaster.

She opened the board and began getting the truncated bowls out that held the white and black stones, while Iwaizumi messed with the radio to try and get rid of music playing.

She looked up at Iwaizumi, “Not a fan of Chinese RNB?”

“Uh, well,” He tried messing with the volume but it would not budge. Iwaizumi heard the chorus start to play and he wanted to vivisect Matsukawa down to a pulp.

She froze for a moment, letting the lyrics of, “Watch you love me like a Japanese porn star, ” ruminate in the air for a second.

“Yeah, maybe changing the music would be a good idea.” She just laughed it off though.

Iwaizumi appreciated that about her, she could let awkward moments slide off her shoulders. When he felt like embarrassment was overtaking him, she always approached oddities and uncomfortableness with an attitude of nonchalance. Which was good for him, because he often had moments like that around her specifically.

Iwaizumi was still struggling to change the music, which had now transitioned to another explicit song from Matsukawa’s favorite make out playlist. She had finished setting up the Go board, but noticing that Iwaizumi was still frustrated at the radio, she stood up and went over to him.

She put her hand over his and slightly pushed it away. She pressed the Bluetooth connective button, and suddenly Masukawa’s music was gone.

“There, now we can play.” She clapped her hands together and went back to the coffee table in the center of the room. She was sitting cross legged, bouncing her knees in excitement.

Iwaizumi copied how she was sitting and looked over the board. “I think now would be a good time to tell you I have no idea how to play this game.”

She leaned backwards and giggled. “Don’t worry, I’m an excellent teacher.”

After an hour of interchanging teaching moments and actual exchanges of pieces, Iwaizumi’s brain was fried. And he was losing, for the second time.

She cringed when he placed his black stone down on the board. “Sorry, I hate to do this.” She put her stone down, and let him look at the board again.

“Okay, you have to be cheating because I was thinking at least five moves ahead.” Iwaizumi ran a hand through his hair, leaning over the board to see where he had messed up.

“I think ten moves ahead, at minimum. That way I can plot out multiple escape routes for my pieces.” She kicked her feet a little, positively elated with her consecutive wins against Iwaizumi.

“You’re such a nerd, did you know that?” Iwaizumi rubbed the back of his neck, looking at her.

She didn’t expect to get flustered. It was just, he was looking at her in a way that made her feel all ooey-gooey inside, and the way he was sheepishly rubbing his neck had her weak in the knees.

“Yuuta is way nerdier than me, he’s almost the same rank as me, but he’s only been playing for two years.” She accepts the bowl of various candy that Iwaizumi hands her.

He moves to the couch after putting away his pieces. He chews the inside of his mouth, feeling the stinging reminder that she was not single. She still sits on the floor, cleaning up the board all the way, exactly as she liked it. The clock on the wall read twenty-five to ten.

“He seems really nice, your boyfriend.” Even saying the word made Iwaizumi feel ill.

She laughs, “Boyfriend? Yeah right, you’re funny.”

“So wait, he isn’t your boyfriend?” Iwaizumi tugged on his sweatshirt strings, making the back of the hood tighten into a ball instead of staying relaxed across his back.

She slaps a hand over her mouth with wide eyes, “Absolutely not. Yuuta's a first year, Iwaizumi.” She grimaced and slumped back into the base of the couch, her head near Iwaizumi’s leg, “Does everyone think… he and I?”

Iwaizumi contemplated, making a face that told her, ‘I hate to break it to you’.

“I’m cursed.” She threw her hands up into the air, “It’s because of those stupid fortunes my family takes me to get every year. It’s such a devastation.”

Iwaizumi reached behind himself to adjust the hood of his sweatshirt. Only to subconsciously tug on the strings again as he posed a question that he felt too much rode on.

“We could go to a shrine. Break the bad streak of luck. If you go with me then maybe your luck won’t be as bad. The one in the center of town is having a blossom festival to celebrate the end-”

“Hell yes. We’re going. Give me your phone so you can text me the details.”

“I-uh, yeah, sure, okay, yeah. We’ll go together.” Iwaizumi almost dropped his phone, pulling it out from the inside of his pocket.

She looked at the miniature Godzilla charm hanging from the case. “I really liked Godzilla Minus One, it was the best Godzilla movie that we’ve gotten in a while.” She enters in her number from memory, giving herself a special nickname in his contacts as well.

Iwaizumi blinks. Was it really that easy to get her number? And if so, why had he spent so long waiting to get it? Matsukawa was right, Iwaizumi had been preventing himself from actually getting closer to her.

Oikawa, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa rang the doorbell repeatedly, knocking loudly as well.

“Here, I gotta go get the door.”

While standing up, he trips on her leg. She lets out a short yelp. Moments like these have Iwaizumi’s brain slowing down and playing the scene that unfolds in a sort of vintage sheen.

Because he didn’t want to land on her, he had managed to grab her and bring her over the top of him. But that also meant that when Oikawa used his spare key, they walked in on her sitting right overtop of Iwaizumi’s hips, her hands on his chest. His hands had come to grip her sides, with his thumbs barely below her chest.

She was furrowing her eyebrows slightly, with a slight pout on her bottom lip as she raised her shoulders slightly, finally noticing the trio that had come into Iwaizumi’s house. She picked one of her hands off of his chest and waved sweetly, “Hi boys.”

Her only logical way to avoid a bigger problem was to duck her head down to avoid their eyes. Which caused Iwaizumi to choke and lose any sort of functioning, because her face was right above his. Not to mention she had also accidentally rolled her hips against his in just a way that made his vision blurry. He could feel the plush of her thighs on the sides of his hips and all he wanted her to do was roll her hips one more time.

So much for just an innocent crush. It had become a full blown lust and infatuation at this point.

Iwaizumi ran through his head, trying to clear out all the X-rated thoughts occurring. The fact that he now knew she was single made him feel like he could act just a little more possessively towards her.

He really needed to get a grip, because instead of just standing up and explaining what had happened, he reached his hands up to cup her face and he brought her a singular inch closer to his face, their noses fractions away from touching.

“Only say hi to me like that. You’re mine.”

She gulped, pushing her chest against his chest to lift herself off of him, her hands resting on his biceps as she pried herself away from him. Agonizingly too quick for him.

“I’m going to go get some water.” She carefully stepped around Iwaizumi and went down the other hall to the kitchen. When he heard the door shut to the kitchen he groaned and sat up.

Oikawa was red in the face, slightly fanning himself, “Even I felt something there. Geez. Did you see the way she swung her leg around and off your body, but she had to bring her chest to yours for that leveraging motion? That’s probably in the top ten dream scenarios right there.”

Oikawa sat the bag of snacks he had brought onto the coffee table, sitting on the end of the couch looking stunned.

“You need to shut up right now.” Iwaizumi patted the back of his head, his eyes shut tight. He had pulled his legs up, while sitting upright on the floor next to the couch.

Matsukawa chuckled, “Why, is recounting the experience giving you post boner stress syndrome.”

Hanamaki chimed in, “Or he’s trying to avoid getting one in the first place, consider that Issei.” Hanamaki ran his tongue over his teeth, “But I suppose he’s having a difficult time, because just thinking about that getup she had on, oh, those baggy sweatpants and that tight little shirt that hugged-”

“Close your traps right now.” Iwaizumi barked. He rubbed his eyes until he was seeing static. His brain had finally started clearing but his friends were being insistent annoyances.

He lets out a shaky breath. “Hiro, you better listen to her. She genuinely believes you’re bad at English.”

“But I am bad at English.”

“Good, you won’t have to act at all then.” Hanamaki kicks Iwaizumi in the back before sitting around the coffee table. Matsukawa hooks his music back up, playing Artic Monkeys with a reverb. Matsukawa moves his shoulders, jamming out to the music.

She returns with two glasses of water, mentioning that she’ll go back to get the other three.

The night proceeds with much less excitement. She does help Hanamaki with his English, and Hanamaki feels like he can actually understand basic sentences.

She and Oikawa play a round of Go, she beats him but Oikawa is entertained and says that playing Go was fun. She practically beams hearing his admission of enjoyment.

Matsukawa and her share playlists, she tells him that he needed to blend the energy levels of his songs otherwise it gets boring to listen to a bunch of high energy songs sequentially. Matsukawa accepts the criticism and starts editing his playlist for her to evaluate at a later date.

Iwaizumi talks, and jokes around with everyone but he can’t help but drift off when he hears her laugh at his jokes, or how she pays active, attentive attention to him when he talks about something that’s been on his mind.

So when it hits two am and she says she needs to leave, Iwaizumi feels a bit shafted. Oikawa and Hanamaki were cuddling, already asleep and snoring. Matsukawa was staring at the TV screen watching another episode of a never ending sitcom.

She’s holding her Go board and textbook in her arms as she slides her shoes back on in the entryway of his house.

They’re both whispering so as to not wake up the snorers.

“Why are you leaving?” Iwaizumi slides his own shoes on, getting the door open for her as she takes a step outside.

He closes the door once he follows her to the front porch. She shifts her things in her arms uncomfortably. Iwaizumi takes them from her wordlessly, holding them with ease and perfect balance.

“I need to go to sleep,” She yawns, using a hand to cover her mouth. Her eyes shined from the porch lighting.

“You can just stay here, and if you don’t want to sleep in the living room with us, you can sleep in my bed?” Iwaizumi shuffled his feet, trying to find the right words to get her to stay.

“I need to get home.”

“Did I do something wrong?” Iwaizumi swallows thickly.

She bites her bottom lip, but earnestly explains her thoughts, “Well, I’m in a slight tizzy. I mean, you did grab me by the face and tell me to only say hi to you like that and not to other people, in that specific tone of voice. And, uh, the whole you saying that I’m yours, remember that?”

He digs the tip of his shoe into the porch flooring. “Yeah, that’s my bad.”

“No, it’s all fine, I’m just, I just need space to think. I really did enjoy hanging out though.” She tries to take her stuff back from Iwaizumi. He pulled her stuff closer to his chest.

“Let me walk you home at least, it’s what a fifteen minute walk?”

She pursed her lips, reaching her hand out to touch Iwaizumi’s elbow. He had traded his hoodie for a simple t-shirt earlier when all the bodies in the living room brought the temperature up too much for his liking. He naturally ran hot as well. He also got warm whenever she was near. The feeling of her hand on his elbow had his heart beginning to pitter-patter.

“You’d have to walk back to your house alone then.” She pulled him closer, putting both her hands on his arms, she ignored the taut muscles. “And I wouldn’t want that.”

His heart was racing, because she was leaning in slightly, and he thought that he should’ve brushed his teeth again. In her intelligence though, his body relaxed a little, so she was finally able to grab her stuff from him. She felt a modest amount of guilt for toying with him like that, but his face was blushed from staying up too late, the heat in his ears and apples of his cheeks stemming from watching screens too long.

“So, go to bed Iwaizumi Hajime.” She smiles, “I’ll see you later okay. Don’t forget we need to get fortunes soon, I need to change my luck before Nationals.”

He nods his head, slightly stunned from being tricked a little into thinking she was leaning in for something other than to take her board and book back.

“Wait.”

She paused, already halfway down the path from his house to the sidewalk.

He must have been going crazy. But everyone has to do crazy things once in a while, he supposes.

Iwaizumi slightly rushed to where she was. Just like earlier, he put his hands on her face, but this time he pressed a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth. Not wanting to push his luck any further than it had gone so far this night, he pressed one longer, more intense kiss to her jaw as he moved his hands to her waist.

He smiled at her when he backed up, “Now we’ll have something to talk about on our date at the festival next week.”

It was all so mildly irritating. She wondered why he hadn’t just kissed her earlier, when she had been settled into his lap in his living room.

Shaking her head in amusement, she handed her things to Iwaizumi, and he felt a chill in his spine. When she gripped the front of his shirt and pulled him in for a real kiss, a lip to lip kiss, he felt his whole world burst into vibrant color.

What a tease, he thought, when she licked his bottom lip and took her things back, actually making her way down the street.

He stood outside staring at her retreating body for much too long.

When she set her stuff down on her desk, she flung herself onto her bed. Sighing deeply.

This was not good for her heart.

She remembered her second year of high school.

It was positively awful, and not to mention her repeated failures at romance were starting to make her feel absolutely uncrushable. She thought she was doing everything right, wearing the right makeup, hitching her skirt up just enough (but she returned back to the normal length after she realized she did not appreciate the staring in the hallway from that stunt).

She even tried changing the way she did her hair. Still no gentleman callers. Maybe she was determined to be unlovable.

The only person she could go to was her Go Captain, a third year exchange student from China who destroyed her in every game they played, but at least he was cute, despite the extreme gap in a language understanding. Well, her Go Captain or Iwaizumi Hajime.

She decided to go to the Go Captain first.

“Mingzhe, am I attractive?”

He raised an eyebrow, looking from side to side. He was reading a book in the corner of the library when she ambushed him, resting a hand on the table. Mingzhe looks up at her and tilts his head to the side a little, almost as if he was inspecting her.

“In what sense of the word? Because you have what I would call an attractive personality, you’re really smart and you love Go almost as much as I do.”

“I definitely love Go more than you, but thank you.” She smiles and Mingzhe thought he could go back to his book, but she kept talking. “But the other kind of attractive, like the way my body looks.”

Mingzhe’s eyes almost popped out of his head, “Uhh, I, um.” He made a fist and pounded on his heart for a moment, trying to stop his stuttering. Now, if Mingzhe was the romantic interest of this story, then more about his background would be shared at this point. Unfortunately, he’s just Mingzhe from China who loves to play Go and accidentally fell in love with his overly kind and sweet Go teammate.

Mingzhe kept stuttering, trying to think of the right words to say to her that would express what he wanted to tell her. Because how could he tell her that she was the only girl he’d ever really liked like this. The way that she always took the stones from his hand when he got too close to winning, just so she could make him pause and explain where she went wrong.

She took his silence negatively and she hunched into the chair right next to him, pouting. Mingzhe felt a pang of melancholy run through him. Maybe if he wasn’t so realistic, his story with her would’ve turned out differently.

“Sha gua,” She lifted her head at the nickname he called her frequently. “Do you know what that means?”

She rubbed her eyes, and shook her head.

“Literally translated, my nickname for you means idiot or fool.” Mingzhe puts a hand on her shoulder, rubbing his thumb back and forth a little. If he wasn’t Mingzhe, if he didn’t have to go back to China so soon, he’d want to be everything to her.

Her body shakes a little as she laughs in reaction to Mingzhe's statement. “Oh great, thanks for that Mingzhe.”

“In China though, sha gua is a term of affection, right up there with something like bao bei, which means both treasure and baby. Sha gua is a testament to the innocence you have, and my appreciation for that genuineness you carry.” It means I love you.

“Where are you going with this?” She put her hand over Mingzhe’s, and he felt his soul crack just a little.

“If I wasn’t leaving at the end of the year, I would definitely try to approach you romantically, sha gua.” He tacks on the nickname, in tandem with a genuine smile. She puts a hand to his long black hair, brushing away the strand that always fell into his deep brown eyes. She always thought his eyes looked like brown sugar tapioca pearls.

“Thanks Mingzhe.”

“Of course, xinjian.” She left Mingzhe alone in the library, so he could finish his book. She never did find out that xinjian meant ‘peak of my heart’. Mingzhe was the one who gave her her special Go board that she carried around everywhere. (Engraved deeply in the box, on the underside, in Chinese characters was his wish for her to always stay healthy and happy. Along with the address of his family home in China, if she ever did come by to visit him.)

Mingzhe’s answer wasn’t enough for her in second year, so she went to Iwaizumi for additional clarification on her attractiveness woes. Or maybe, Mingzhe’s answer gave her hope that Iwaizumi would have a similar answer.

She just hadn’t known it would be so awkward. In Iwaizumi’s defense, she had cornered him in the back of class after school had been dismissed for the day.

To say he was stunned and bothered would be an understatement in the highest regard. Because how could he think when she slightly loosened the tie around her neck and untucked her lavender button-up from her skirt. Iwaizumi kept tightening and adjusting his own tie, trying to keep his hands focused and on his body rather than letting them magnetize to her body.

“I just need to know, simply. Plainly.” She had put her hand on the side of his head, her fingertips grazing the wood of the cubbies in the back of the classroom.

Iwaizumi was sure he’d seen this scene before in a drama that Oikawa had shown him. Except, he’s in the girl’s position and not the guy’s.

When she puts her foot in between his feet, he can feel the way his thighs threaten to give out on him. He’d been reduced to jello and she didn’t even know it.

“Know what?” At least he could reign in his tone of voice, staying flat.

“Am I or am I not attractive?”

He had wanted to say she was absolutely adorable. But given the way he could feel her body heat from how close they were, his assessment of her attractiveness had gone from cute to downright gorgeous. How a fellow seventeen year old could act like this, he did not understand.

“Yeah, you’re, you’re good looking.” Way to go Iwaizumi, he knew that if Oikawa or Hanamaki or Matsukawa could see him now, they would have either used a slingshot to put him out of his misery or taken a photo and posted it with the caption of, “Top Three Most Epic Fails in Romance.”

“Okay, thank you, I appreciate it.” She brought her hand back, no longer on the side of his face.

Iwaizumi liked her near though, so he grabbed her hand. She looked at him in the eyes, and he looked at her in the eyes.

His boldness was about to be curbed if he didn’t say what he wanted to say right in that moment, “Be my first kiss? As, uh, my treat for answering your question?” He was ready to go and dig his own grave.

“Sure.”

Iwaizumi almost shuddered, almost.

It was a clash.

Neither of them really knew what they were supposed to be doing, or where their hands were supposed to go. They had both settled for holding onto each other's necks lightly.

It was a series of closed mouth brushes of their lips, that was how Iwaizumi’s first kiss went. She had kissed a boy before, in middle school at a party, but she suddenly was wishing that this was her first kiss instead.

When she pulled away, Iwaizumi cleared his throat. Slowly nodding he adjusted the straps on his backpack.

“Thanks,” He started, “I have to go play volleyball now.”

“Yeah, yeah. Totally get it.” She was twisting her foot, digging it into the floor as she kept her eyes hesitantly on Iwaizumi.

Walking to the gym, Iwaizumi pressed his hand against his heart and begged it to slow down.

She realized that maybe high school boys just didn’t go out of their way to confess to her because they were too busy with other things, as demonstrated by Iwaizumi’s focus on volleyball. At the end of the day, she didn’t need external attention to give her internal validation. But it would’ve been nice.

She thought about Mingzhe from time to time. But Iwaizumi always stuck to her thoughts much longer. Second year was when she realized that she liked Iwaizumi, but she just couldn’t tell him. For her, what she had with Iwaizumi was a longer game that expanded much further than high school. Like a good game of Go, it had exchanges and bold moves between players.

Her second year didn’t carry totally throw away memories she concluded, curling up in her bed to finally go to sleep.

By Monday, Iwaizumi was positively giddy with excitement at seeing her again. He had a whole plan for their outing after school on Friday, and he wanted to tell her everything. When she wasn’t in her seat by the first bell, he looked around the room to see if she was silently slinking her way to her seat. Then when the final morning bell rang, he slumped into his chair in irritation.

By lunchtime, she still wasn’t at school, so he decided to go and investigate, making his way to the first year hallway, looking into all the classrooms.

He saw Ito Yuuta, her not-boyfriend, sitting at his desk, playing on a Go board by himself.

He entered the classroom and put his hands on the desk, making a slamming noise that wasn’t too jolting, seeing as Ito was still fidgeting with the stone in his hand.

“Yes?” Ito pressed the stone to his mouth, then quickly set it down. He input where he placed the stone on his phone, waiting for the computer to make a move so he could set the corresponding piece down, trying to beat the Artificial Intelligence system known as AlphaGo for the second time today.

“Where is she?” Iwaizumi brought his head down to force Ito into making eye contact.

Ito made a sour face, unamused with Iwaizumi, “She’s at a tournament today, the posters for it have been up for like a whole month.” Ito rolled his eyes, “It’s at the central Miyagi Gym, she’s playing in the 5 dan ranking bracket.”

Iwaizumi tensed his leg, ready to get to the gym as soon as possible, “Are spectators allowed?” If Iwaizumi wanted to be something to her, he figured he needed to break out of his shell around her and commit, and show that he wanted to be with her.

“It’s almost like all the captains of our sports team were asked to attend. You play volleyball, yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Do yourself a favor and find a girl who’s more into guys like you. She’s on a whole other level, whatever interest you have in her will be short-lived.” Ito places some more pieces down according to the computer input. Ito was only teasing, he wanted to make sure Iwaizumi was sure about her.

“Guys like me?”

Ito smiled, standing up to his full height. “Guys who don’t play Go. Guys who are brainless muscle heads. Guys who lack basic skills of strategy. Guys like Iwaizumi Hajime.” Ito wondered what the reaction would be, slightly dismissing his game.

Iwaizumi brought his head back in offense, shocked and appalled at what Ito was saying. A bitter look on Iwaizumi’s face was all Ito needed to feel self-satisfied in his jests. Iwaizumi felt like a fish, with how his mouth gaped open and closed.

“Listen here you little bastard- I don’t know who you think you are, but clearly your ego is too big to contain within the convoluted mind game you’re trying to play with me.” Iwaizumi stuck a finger in the center of Ito’s chest, and Ito lazily held his hands up. “I like her. Genuinely, I like her. I want to go support her, so clearly I’m doing more than you.”

In all honesty, Iwaizumi was just trying to make up for what he considered lost time. He had spent years waiting for the right time to get closer to her, but now wasn’t the time to deflect, to deter, to do anything that would slow the progress he had been making. Iwaizumi was going to make her his, regardless of what anyone would try to tell him.

“It’s not me you have to worry about, it’s the other Go players. There’s an entire array of guys who would literally kill to be with a player like her, a 5-dan player at her age. You’re not fighting with me, you’re fighting with the guys who play Go professionally and rake in the big bucks at 19, 20, years old.” Ito wondered if Iwaizumi knowing he had competition would make Iwaizumi scurry away. Ito was genuinely glad when Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and left the classroom, because that showed that Iwaizumi wasn’t scared to go all in for her.

Another day's work for Ito Yuuta in the books. Now if only he could beat that stupid AI Robot.

Iwaizumi knew that Ito was just trying to get in his head. So he just made his way to Miyagi Gym, taking one of the posters from the hallway to make sure he could get there in time to see her play.

He got there within fifteen minutes, thanks to Matsukawa’s moped that he borrowed.

He held the helmet under his arm as he entered the gym, looking around for directions or a chart. She would be in a higher bracket, he knew that, but he had no idea what the 5-dan ranking was about that Ito had gone on about.

Then he looked over to a screen that had her on display, making a focused face at a game board.

Iwaizumi saw her in person pretty soon after he asked around, she was sitting criss-cross on her chair, across from a boy who looked about their same age. The boy looked much more stressed than she looked. She looked like a picture of calm, almost bored if Iwaizumi was being honest.

She placed her stone down, and leaned back in her chair with a smug smile on her face. Iwaizumi couldn’t help the smile that drew across his face watching her seem satisfied.

“I pass.” Her opponent threw his hands up in the air and shook his head.

She placed one more stone and her opponent groaned and grabbed strands of his hair. She started collecting her opponents pieces and then shook his hand across the board.

An older woman, mid-forties maybe, announced the winner of the round. The announcer held her hand up in the air and she bowed to the audience, and then went and individually bowed to a group of people holding clipboards.

Iwaizumi cheered so loudly from where he was standing, and she caught sight of him immediately. She smiled, but then waved her hand in a ‘be quiet’ gesture. He nodded and started walking over to her.

She got handed a paper from the announcer and she held it so tightly, Iwaizumi thought she would rip it. She quickly made her way over to Iwaizumi, who was standing near the entrance of the subsect in the gym.

“You won? Right? Otherwise my cheering that ended up really bothering that guy who looks like a lemon was a waste.” Iwaizumi tried to sneak a glance at her paper, but she held it close to her chest.

“Yes, I won. I can’t believe you’re here. I didn’t know you wanted to come watch me play?”

Iwaizumi scratches the back of his head, “Well, I missed you. You weren’t in class.”

He missed her whenever she was gone. This was just the first time he had told her.

She laughs, “Usually tournaments are on the weekends, this is the only one I’ve ever had on a Monday.”

“Ah, makes sense. Is anyone else from Aoba here?”

Iwaizumi felt upset that people couldn’t appreciate her. He decided he would just have to appreciate her all the more.

She shook her head ‘no’ with a slight frown.

“I’m here. If that means anything at all.”

“It does mean something that you showed up, even though you’re also missing our math class so conveniently.” She poked his cheek with her finger, Iwaizumi shrugs with a grin on his face.

“One question before we celebrate,” She nods, urging him to continue, “Is your buddy Ito always such an asshole?”

She slaps her hand on her forehead, “What did he say.”

“Oh, he said quite a lot. Nothing I can’t deal with though. But he’s criminally mean, how do you deal with him?”

“He’s mad because he wasn’t invited to the tournament, he spent a lot of time practicing this year and to not get an invite to National Qualifiers kinda put him in a slump. Although, that doesn’t excuse anything he said.” She tucked her paper into the back pocket of her jeans, then gave Iwaizumi a hug.

He liked the hug a lot. He hoped there would be a lot more of them in store for them.

Iwaizumi, letting his curiosity get the better of him, lightly reached behind her to grab the paper. Letting his hand rest on the top of the curve of her backside, just high enough where he could play it off as his hand was on her waist. She let out a gasp at the touch, then he pulled her into his right side so he could read the paper, holding it out with his left hand.

He read through it quickly, scanning for keywords.

“So, you’re my Miss Miyagi Representative at Nationals then?”

“Don’t say it like that, just say Miyagi Representative.” She ducked her head a little, putting her face into his shoulder.

“Why are you getting all shy? This is an amazing accomplishment.” He held her shoulders with his hands and shook her a little, eliciting a laugh from her.

“The winner of the 5-dan bracket at Nationals can become a 6-dan player, just two dan levels below a professional ranking, isn’t that crazy!” She looks a little crazy, but the way her eyes shine with excitement and the way her mouth runs a mile a minute, and the way her hair looks sort of messy all settle into Iwaizumi’s heart comfortably, making themselves at home with his spirit.

“I don’t understand a word of what you’re saying but you’re really cute saying it.”

She rolls her eyes. Her expression changes for a second, shifting from playful annoyance to confusion.

“Iwaizumi, are we friends now? Is that what this is?”

He freezes, “I thought we were already friends? This is me trying to be more than friends.”

She lets out a knowing sound, understanding more than she did before.

“I mean, is kissing something you do with all your friends? Because if so, I’m going to need you to reconsider what you define as friendliness.”

“No, I don’t kiss my friends.” She hits him lightly on the shoulder.

“Good, because I don’t know if I’d be able to handle that. You know, my jealous streak and all that.”

She just loops their arms together and they walk out of the gym.

She ended up winning at Nationals, and Iwaizumi was there to cheer obnoxiously when she won there as well. She thanked him personally because when they went to the blossom festival at the central shrine, she ended up getting a lucky fortune.

What she didn’t know was that Iwaizumi had seen through the paper, and knowing that it was unlucky, got her to set it down to look at some of the stringed lights. And when she went to look at the lights, he swapped their fortunes.

Just so she could have his lucky charm.

He supposed he didn’t need a lucky charm, because she was all the luck he needed.

But even luck runs out sometimes.

He was sitting on the couch, listening to her talk about her college plans. They’d only been out of school and graduated for one week and she had sat him down in her living room to explain what the future holds for her. She was pacing back and forth in front of him, explaining the situation.

Iwaizumi recounted a synopsis of what she had just said.

“You got a full ride to University of California-Irvine, to play Go?”

“Apparently they wanted some cultural diversity, and they wanted me specifically at their school. It’s technically an exchange system, where I attend Tokyo University, but stay in California. But I’d get to teach Go classes, and I’d have a team of players that I would travel with to China and Korea, and home to play with at international tournaments.” She froze, and stood right in front of him.

“I guess you have to leave then.” Iwaizumi folded his arms, and she could tell something was wrong.

“Well, we knew that we weren’t going to be at the same university, so I don’t know why this is such a shock for you?” She lifted her eyebrows, giving him a look of concern.

Iwaizumi pursed his lips.

She sat down on her knees in front of him and tugged on his hand. “Hey, what’s going on behind those beautiful brown eyes of yours?”

“And I guess I’ll have to accept the offer from University of California-Irvine to do an exchange year then.”

She gently slapped his hand, “You’re such a prankster, I can’t believe you made me worry.”

“Oh, don’t stop worrying about me. I never said that.” Iwaizumi grabbed her hand and kissed her palm a few times, then moved his mouth so that he could rest his lips on her pulse point within her wrist. “You’re going to have to call me at least twice a day, and I’ll need you to send me all of your meals so that I can make sure you’re getting enough nutrients.”

“You’ll definitely need to stop worrying about me.” She groaned slightly, trying to get her hand away from Iwaizumi, but he pulled her up and into his lap. He put his face onto her back, his hair tickling the nape of her neck.

He liked being in California with her, but he’d only get to stay for one year, so he’d have to make the most of it.

Which is why he tried to spend most of it at the beach, trying to get her to play volleyball with him.

“Then after I receive it, you do that two handed toss I showed you, bringing the ball back to me so I can spike it over the net.” Iwaizumi was shirtless, wearing swim trunks, and had sunglasses on. If she was being honest, she was distracted by her fiance’s body movements and didn’t pay a lick of attention to the things he was trying to teach her.

She nodded though, taking off her swimsuit coverup, not wanting it to be in the way of the game. She was left in a black one-piece, with a large cut out in the back. Iwaizumi ran his hand down her exposed spine and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, before getting a volleyball tossed at his torso.

On the other side of the net was a guy that Iwaizumi had introduced as Ushijima, and one of her Go teammates who seemed very romantically interested in Ushijima.

Iwaizumi walked backwards for a moment, then he threw the ball up into the air and hit it with the center of his hand. The game was afoot.

Her friend received the ball with a practiced ease that convinced her that she was the only one who did not understand volleyball.

At the end of the game, Iwaizumi was hitting Ushijima’s back and telling him better luck next time. The four of them sat on a large beach towel and ate cut up pieces of watermelon that she had brought. Iwaizumi was sitting with his legs stretched out in front of him, one hand behind himself to prop him up. Ushijima was trying to hide his face from how her teammate was leaning closer and closer to him, talking about this and that.

Iwaizumi and her made eye contact, and Iwaizumi glanced over to where her friend was attempting to get Ushijima’s number. She sighed, ate another piece of watermelon and laid on her back, wiggling her hips a little to get comfortable on the expanse of the towel under the hot sun.

“Where do you want to live after we graduate?”

“I don’t know, I can play Go wherever I want. It’s a very portable game, you know.”

“You’ve told me that a few times before.” Iwaizumi stole the watermelon she had picked up with her pointer finger and thumb, just putting his mouth around her fingers and using his tongue to leverage the piece out of her control.

She let out a sound of disgust at his actions.

He wiggles an eyebrow teasingly, and leaned over her, putting one hand on her back and the other cupping her face softly. He looks to her lips then back to her eyes, she nods rapidly. He slots his lips into hers, working up to the right intensity.

She can hear the way her friend suggests that they and Ushijima should head to get popsicles, and to her surprise, Ushijima agrees.

Iwaizumi breaks out of the kiss for a second, still brushing his lips against hers as he speaks, “I thought they’d never leave.” He slides his tongue into her mouth, gently coaxing her to make the noises he loved to hear.

She pulls back for a second, “You know we’re still in public right?”

“I know, but now I can do this without getting watched by a high school friend of mine.” Iwaizumi slid his hand down to her thigh, and twisted himself around, so that she was straddling his hips. She was on top of him as he was sitting up. He let out a happy hum when she rested her hands in his hair, curling the strands around her fingers. “I think you should just always stay in my lap.”

She starts kissing his neck, then jokingly starts sucking on his jawline. He murmurs a little, asking her to keep going, and she giggles. She moves a hand down to rest on his abdomen, tracing along the lines of his muscles.

“Watch your hand.” He grumbles a little, her hand just a little too low for his own sanity. He kisses her cheek and then goes to nip at her earlobe.

“Watch your mouth.” She leans back but his head follows her, trying to capture her lips again. He lets out a complaining noise, muttering an apology.

“My bad.” Iwaizumi gives her a light kiss, pouting when she doesn't kiss back, “Please.” He kissed her again, and she still didn’t kiss back, “Kiss me.”

“You’re so whiney sometimes.” She pulls him by his neck into a deep kiss and he makes a noise she can only comprehend as a happy chirp.

So what if Iwaizumi Hajime was mildly bothersome to her, she had the rest of her life to be bothered by him. She had the ring to prove it.

[mrs-kodzuken]

Sick with you ♡

Pairing: Aged up!Haijme Iwaizumi x fem!reader

WC: 2.1k

Genre: fluff

CW: fem!reader, sickness, becoming friends, slight attraction to iwaizumi, slight cussing, infertile!reader, teacher!reader, mentions of reader passing out, iwa taking care of reader, very slight implied infertile!iwaizumi, not proofread, very slight angst due to infertile talk

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

I sniffled, the disgusting snot coming out of my nose hiding back into it. I was sick. Working with kids was the greatest thing I could have ever done but the unfortunate side of it is getting sick a lot. However, I wouldn’t give it up for anything.

I was so sick and I had all the symptoms like the sneezing, body aches, headache, and sore throat. I went to the doctor to see if it was something more serious because I literally feel like death and all she said was that it’s just a ‘common cold’.

A common cold my ass. I feel like I could die.

Staying in the comfort of my own home instead of getting any of the other teachers sick was hard. I wanted—needed—to know how my students were doing.

After having found out I was infertile when I was twenty years old crushed me. Hence why I became a teacher to surround myself around the hopeful children. They look up to me and I love them as if I’m their mom—school mom.

Maybe it’s a sadistic way to cope with my feelings but I don’t care. I went through hell after finding out that heartbreaking news.

The pounding in my skull brought me back to my sickened state. I groaned before grabbing the left side of my head in pain. I was out of headache medicine and my stomach was already growling for something to eat.

As much as I wanted to let my mom and dad take care of me, like they usually would do. I moved away. Finding out about my infertility was a blow to my heart and in the moment I was so broken that I couldn’t stay in the same place where I found it out.

Blinking away the thoughts of my pain, I focused on my bodily pain as I got up to throw on something. I decided on an oversized hoodie I thrifted and kept the nighttime shorts I had on, it was already dinner time anyways. As I turned around for my keys I could feel my body swaying until I grabbed onto the wall.

Damn. I need to hurry and lay back down.

Hurrying to the front door, I grabbed my wallet and slipped on my slides as a cough slid out of my throat.

The nearest convenience store was my best bet since it was only a short walk that I could manage. I wasn’t trying to collapse in the middle of the street.

The little ding I heard alerted me that I was inside the store and I tried to snap out of my small trance of disorientation. I immediately headed for the medical aisle, I need medicine as soon as possible.

After grabbing it, I almost neared the cashier until my stomach rumbled. I damn neared cried because of the pain and hunger I was feeling.

Trudging towards the soup aisle, I quickly saw the last can of chicken noodle soup and immediately went to grab it.

Unfortunately, I guess I wasn’t the only person who wanted some chicken noodle soup right then. I looked over, no matter how much it hurt my eyes to do so, and saw a tall guy. The tip of his nose was highlighted with the color red and there were visible dark eye bags underneath his dark colored eyes.

Our hands brushed as we both tried to grab the same can which happens to be the very last can. “Uhh..” Trailed out of my mouth without warning.

“Sorry,” He politely said towards me, retracting his hand from mine and the chicken noodle soup. He sure was a gentleman if he was just as sick as me and giving me the last can of chicken noodle soup.

“No, sorry, you can have it.” I said, I made a conclusion based on what he looked like. He was built, like built, his muscles showing through a black tee that he was wearing both triceps and abs. Someone who was this muscular had to be someone who was important enough to have those muscles. He gave me a strange look.

“You look worse than I do, I insist.” I’m pretty sure he meant it as I should take better care of myself but I couldn’t help but to take high offense to that.

I scoffed, “Yeah, thank you. Way to make a stranger feel shitty about her appearance.” I gripped the metal can off the shelf and made my way to the cashier, leaving the handsome but sick man behind me.

After I was done checking out, all of my energy was completely gone. It took everything out of me to even get to the store and just the short walk back was enough to make want to cry.

I opened the door to leave, the ding from it making me wince as it was disoriented in my head.

Suddenly, the area around me started to blur and the step I took made my body collapse. I couldn’t even care less about the pain that was headed my way when I hit the pavement of the outside of the convenience store.

But it didn’t come.

Warmth surround my torso as I was caught, it did very little to break me from my state. I could barely open my eyes to see the person—man, definitely a man from the way he feels—who caught me.

“Shit, are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?” A concerned voice sounded out, it happened to belong to the same man from earlier. However, the sound of his voice was muddled out weirdly. A sound of confusion came from my mouth as I tried to gain my bearings.

I mumbled my address then tried to grab my bag of needs that I bought to shuffle my way to my house.

That is, until black spots clouded my vision and I definitely fell to the ground as I blacked out.

The smell of delicious food awoke me. A huge shove came to my body when I fully gained consciousness. Everything hurts so bad. My throat was dry, my body hurt to the max, and I didn’t even get my soup from the store.

Wait, the last thing I remember was collapsing in front of the convenience store. How fucking embarrassing.

My blood went cold when I realized someone was in my house. Could it be the man from earlier? If so, why in the world is he cooking food in my kitchen?

I slowly got up, not wanting to pass out again in my own room, and headed for the kitchen.

My living room TV was on some sort of kids show I watched when I was younger. The lamps were on giving it a nice ambiance, not too much to hurt my head even more than it already did.

I turned the kitchen and saw the clothed muscular back of the man from the convenience store.

“What the hell are you doing in my house?” I tried to question him intently, however my efforts failed because it sounded scratchy and like I desperately needed water.

He turned around quickly, revealing a pot on the stove and the remnants of sliced vegetables on my cutting board.

“Hey, you’re awake. You fell in front of the store and I took you home but felt bad since I apparently said you look horrible. So, in return I patched you up and made a stew.” Even though I knew he was sick, he made me soup anyways because he felt bad. I would take it as an extremely kind gesture if the whole situation wasn’t weird.

I was about to speak again but realize what happened last time so I just nodded and headed to the sink for some water.

After having my fill and letting the cool water run down my parched throat I spoke, “You’re sick too. You didn’t have to go out of your way.” I furrowed my brows and pain hit my face.

“Oh my god, ow,” I exclaimed, my hand coming up to my eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t catch you in time, you fell again after the first time.” He looked over what I’m assuming were my bandaged cuts on my face.

“Oh, thank you…” I trailed off, not knowing is name or what to say besides thanking him.

“Haijme Iwaizumi.” He gave me a small smile then returned back to the stew that was brewing on the stove.

Even though the situation is way weird, it was kind of nice. I haven’t had a man over into my home in the longest. I don’t like one night stands and my long term boyfriend I had left me back when I found out I was infertile.

I watched as Iwaizumi poured the stew into one porcelain white bowl, adding a soup spoon into the bowl. He served the meal to me and just stood there.

Weird.

“Are you not going to eat..?” I asked him, maybe it was my loneliness of being alone for a while or something more but I didn’t want him to go.

“Are you sure? I made this for you, I can just take the chicken noodle soup and leave if you’d like.” He put the utensils into my sink and was about out to leave.

“Please stay. I insist.” I slightly begged, hearing the panic in my own voice. Man, being sick sure does mess with my head.

After a while of just spoons clacking against the bowls I decided I had enough.

“Thank you for taking care of me. I’m sure you’re a busy man, you didn’t have to do all of this for a stranger.” I thanked him, I didn’t know what else to do since I had just finished my strew. I felt more myself after I had it too.

“No worries. I have the day off from work. I’m also used to taking care of my friends.” He smiled a bit at me, making my heart thump.

I was a sucker for people like me, people who help others just because. Sometimes from their own unfortunate circumstances or sometimes from the joy of it.

“What do you do? If you don’t mind, I just, I want to know more I guess.” I shamelessly chuckled, uncontrollably moving around in my seat. I hope he didn’t think I was weird.

“I’m an athletic trainer. I coach the Japanese National Team.” My suspicions were correct. He was definitely important.

“Wow, that’s impressive. I’m just a plain old grade school teacher.” I embarrassingly laughed, my occupation wasn’t anything like his.

“If it counts, I think that that’s impressive.”

I looked up at him, his eyes staring back into mine. The moment was so silent but intimate to me. It felt warm.

“Really? I do it because it’s something that makes me happy. It fulfills a part of me that I won’t be able to have someday, you know?” I said, being completely honest for no reason at all. I was just happy that he thought my job was impressive, no one really does besides me.

“The same goes with me. The team are people I have known since college and high school so I always feel like I’m kind of a big brother or dad to them.” He lets out a laugh that embarrassingly makes my entire body warmer than the sickness.

“I like you as a person. You remind me of me.”

He looks up and smiles so deeply at me, kindness coating his eyes. “I like you too. Your home feels like a heavy reflection of you.”

Our heart to heart words between us felt like forever but didn’t really last that long. Much to my surprise, it was almost 11pm and Iwaizumi had to get home.

“Thank you for taking care of me, I’m in your debt.” I said, a smile gracing my lips.

“No problem, I’ll call if I need any favors.” He let out a chuckle which made my cheeks flush.

A thought of realization dawned upon me and I made a hasty decision within two seconds. “Wait, how about you stay over?” I slowly asked, “I might collapse again.” I hoped for a yes and my prayers were answered when he nodded.

“Thank you. I didn’t want to impose on you by asking.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

How boyish of him.

I told him about where everything was in my house and decided to take a quick shower and try to get some sleep to feel better.

“Come get me if you need anything Iwaizumi. I’ll be right down the hall.” I commented before shutting the guest bedroom and entering mine.

All I could think about when I shut my own bedroom door was that I hope he does come get me.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

a/n: I hope you guys enjoyed and let me know if you have any requests!

the header is made by me, please like/reblog if used <3

[seiwas]

just a lil bit of a share ! i’ve been feeling really down lately about not writing that much 🥲 and keeping up with posting more frequently/updating a few of my series more regularly 🥲 but i looked at my masterlists and noticed almost 60% of my fics are actually from this year and we’re only half-way in 🥺

anyway ! the point of this is, if you’re being too hard on yourself today, i hope you’re reminded that you’re doing much better than you think 🥺

[iwaoiness]

Hajime is home

Iwaizumi's lying on the three-seater sofa, legs up and Takeru's little body on the soles of his feets, laughing and holding tightly to Iwaizumi's safe hands as he swings his little legs and shouts with laughter "I'm an aeroplane, uncle Iwa! I'm flying high and high!"

And Tooru, on the floor, leaning against the one-seater sofa, his legs tucked in and his head resting on his arms crossed over his knees, smiles lovingly. His ears are delighted by the mixture of his nephew's laughter and Hajime's laughter.

He loves how Iwa-chan has always been part of his family, how they have grown up sharing two fathers, two mothers and an older sister. He loves how, in fact, Iwa-chan is family, how he relates his name to that, to home, to warmth, to protection.

To salvation.

[aunnokokyuu]

obsessed with the trope of when two characters are in a relationship that’s always being haunted by a secret third character. when they both only entered the relationship because of how the third character fundamentally changed them both in ways that they will never recover from and they just need someone else who understands this new version of themselves that no one else will ever comprehend. and i am especially obsessed with when the third character is dead and gone and the only reason the remaining two are together is to seek solace in each other. because they’re the only ones who care enough to take the time to commemorate and remember the third. a relationship built on pure grief and loneliness and mutual understanding with the only love for each other being for when they can see traces of the third person in each other. when they’ve both made each other the third character’s mausoleums and take turns viewing each other like an incomplete tapestry of every bit of personhood that they were able to save and preserve of the third character instead of people in their own right. and. yes. the themes you get it

[rintoorou]

omg i didn’t notice that we were already past the 200 mark but thank you My Lovely 301 🤍 it feels nice knowing you guys enjoy my work and i promise to keep making stuff that will make u all blush and smile and giggle ;P

— also i just found out that TIMESKIP HAIKYUU IS GETTING ANIMATED ??? MY BABY EJP RAIJIN RINTAROU SUNA MB (22) IS GETTING ANIMATED OMFGJJGOSKFW FOAMING AT THE MOUTHHHHH

[lumiambrose]

smut, minors do no interact !

Your sleep-deprived boyfriend, who wakes up once again in the middle of the night to your plush ass against his crotch, fuelling blood to his groin.

He doesn’t want to wake you, but he knows damn well he won’t be getting any sleep tonight. Not when you're shifting against him every few seconds, feeling his hard-on grow.

Your sleep-deprived boyfriend, who wonders what you must be dreaming about to be so sensitive. Constantly writhing around in his grasp with breathy moans eliciting from your half-parted lips. He hopes it’s about him, and the thought of it only sends more blood rushing.

Fuck. He’s so horny right now. He only has you to blame when he pulls down his boxers, freeing his aching cock as it slaps against your ass. He won’t fuck you yet, of course. He’ll wait till you’re awake for that. But he can’t help himself as he aligns his length between your thighs, letting the soft flesh squeeze him as he gets comfy.

Your sleep-deprived boyfriend, who fucks your warm thighs instead of sleeping. His thrusts are slow and sloppy but desperate nonetheless. His low groans barely audible in the hopes he doesn’t wake you up.

Although, to his dismay, after coming undone all over the mattress, your sleeping figure shifts slowly, coming to.

“Baby?” He doesn't give you the time to question what's happening, especially when his cock has already become hard again.

“Shh, my love. Be a good girl for me, okay?” This time, he fucks you properly. Mixed juices painting your insides whilst your folds are glistening for him as he fucks you through the late of night.

Nagi, Karasu, Rin, Kenma, Kuroo, Iwaizumi, Tendou, Osamu, Diluc, Al Haitham, Kaveh, Wriothesley, Neuvilette, Welt, Luocha, Jing Yuan, Gallagher, Zayne, Xavier + any of your favs

©lumiambrose ─ do not translate, repost, copy any of my works

[miyukisu]

Better Bite the Bullet .ᐟ

❤︎ | He's just trying to be a good best friend by teaching you a useful skill in life... blowjobs (2k wc) ╰ feat. iwaizumi hajime (hq) x afab! reader

kinktober entry no. 10 | kinktober masterlist

tags - college au, childhood bestfriends, Oikawa mention, blowjobs, handjobs, no p in v, p*rn with plot, virgin! reader

minors do not interact

You've known Hajime since you were in diapers, long enough that he had grown indifferent to your antics. He hasn't even looked up once from his phone as you paced tirelessly around his bedroom. You were losing your shit and Hajime was sitting on his bed without a care in the world.

A bright idea came to you in the form of making your footsteps louder in hopes that it would annoy him enough to catch his attention. He clicks his tongue once before narrowing his eyes at your moving form.

But not even a second later, his eyes were back on his phone one again. "What the hell are you even doing?" he asked.

"Pacing around. Isn't it obvious?"

He grumbles, finally turning his phone off and throwing it to the side where it landed on his pillow with a soft thud. "No shit Sherlock. I meant what are you pacing around for? It's annoying."

Finally, you stop in your tracks, facing your childhood best friend with your lower lip between your teeth. You've been dying to tell him what was on your chest an hour ago. But now that you're about to spill the beans to him—you found yourself tripping over your words.

"I guess... um... Oikawa kinda asked me to hang out soon... um..."

Hajime's interest was piqued. Normally he wouldn't give two shits about who Oikawa asked out. But this time it was you. An uneasy feeling brewed in his stomach, like he had drank rancid milk.

"And you're worrying about it like some middle schooler? C'mon you're in college," he deflects. Of course, it was his defense mechanism—to act all tough and harsh with the revelation.

You crossed your arms in defense. "I get that... but it's THE Oikawa Tooru that we're talking about here."

"So?"

"What do you mean 'so'? Is your head not screwed on properly?"

Hajime rolls his eyes. Not only were you about to be whisked away by Oikawa, but you had the gall to act like a total brat right now.

"He's just asking to hang out—what's so amazing about that?"

Truth be told, you hadn't thought this far into what it would be like if you had this conversation with Hajime. You figured you wouldn't have to divulge the second—more embarrassing—part of this whole event.

A disappointed sigh leaves your lips. You screwed your eyes shut as if to prepare for the impact of his reaction on what you have to say next.

"A friend of mine told me that when he says something like that... it usually leads to... you know..."

Hajime's eyebrow perked then silence ensued. He knew what you meant, of course. He wasn't born yesterday.

"To what? Fucking?"

Your eyes shot open at his vulgar choice of words. That's exactly what you meant, but you didn't think he'd be so blunt about it. "I mean—if it does get to that... obviously I won't just go all the way with him. I haven't even talked to him that much," you say—backpedaling.

"You won't go all the way, but you'll go somewhere huh?" he pried further. He played it off like he was teasing or, worse yet, mocking. But he wanted to know; he knew his friend's intentions, but he didn't know yours.

You nervously bit your lip again. This was going to be the third revelation of tonight. Never in a thousand years would you have thought that you'd be having his conversation with your childhood best friend.

"Maybe... maybe, yeah... that's what I'm nervous about..."

The uneasy feeling had grown worse. Hajime swallowed even though his mouth felt dry. "Then just don't," he suggests. "You could always just hang out normally."

Another sigh escapes you and you decide to sit beside him—plopping down on the mattress. You ran your fingers through your hair, smoothing out any tangles that had built up.

"I just wanna experience something... you know? I'll only be young and in college once..." you admit. At this point, there was no use in hiding it. Hajime knew every substantial detail anyway.

This time, it was Hajime who sighed. Part of him still felt dread, but another felt pity for you.

"Jeez..."

Hearing his reaction, you felt the urge to stand up and find your bearings. But a warm hand grips your wrist before you could go. You turn to look back and see Hajime's determined expression.

"I'll teach you then."

────────────

Hajime was a 100% sure not a single rational thought was left in either of your heads. Somehow, he thought that if only you touched him and not vice versa—it would be fine. And, somehow, you agreed to it.

You gulped at the sight in front of you, Hajime leaning against the wall on his bed with his dick out of his sweats.

"Well... that's certainly... something..."

"Do you also plan on commenting about his dick when you see it?"

His sarcasm was hardly appreciated right now, especially since you were sure that your nerves would send you into a tailspin.

"No, of course not. I just—fuck, fine. Let's get to it," you say before scooting closer to him.

Carefully, you reach out and gently wrap your fingers around his shaft. Hajime hissed softly, but you were too concentrated to even notice.

Mesmerized, you swiped your thumb over his tip and gave him a soft tug. His jaw was clenched so hard, trying to act like none of this fazed him. But the way you treated him so delicately was arousing in its own way.

You begin stroking him faster. "Is this okay? It doesn't hurt, right?"

"No, but," Hajime pauses before placing his larger hand over yours. "You could do it better though."

He was now guiding you—actually teaching you how to jerk a guy off. Your eyes were fixated on the way both of your hands glided up and down his shaft, slippery from the immense amount of pre.

But his eyes were on your face. Oddly enough, he found it endearing how focused you were at the task on hand (quite literally). He watched every time your face scrunched, how your mouth was a bit agape, and how your eyebrows would quirk up sometimes.

It was cute, he thought.

As soon as you figured out the pace and pressure, he let go of your hand, allowing you free reign over his dick. You felt it twitch. It was most likely a good sign at least. Even better now that he had his eyes closed, head thrown back against the wall.

Maybe this was easier than you thought. Maybe you could do something else. So your hand slows and your eyes trail up to his face. "Hajime."

"What?"

"Can I use my mouth?"

All the air was knocked out of his lungs upon hearing the words that left you. "Huh? What for?"

"No one's gonna be impressed by a handjob. Guys already do it on their own all the time," you reason.

Hajime clicks his tongue. "You don't have to do that kind of thing yet when you're this inexperienced."

He tried staying stern despite the almost pleading look on your face. Hell, he wasn't even sure why he was denying you. He could have your pretty lips wrapped around his cock in a second and here he was—acting like a righteous fool when he doesn't have to be.

Again, he clicks his tongue. But, this time, not because of you. He's annoyed at himself for having no restraint... for having no shame that he's kind of taking advantage of his best friend's naivety.

But to hell with it.

"Okay," he relents. Hajime watches as you get even closer to him. Only then do you feel the nerves consume you once more.

The newfound confidence you had earlier had quickly dissipated as soon as you began leaning down. It didn't help that his natural manly scent was intoxicating. It was warm—you felt it against your face—and it was achingly hard.

You pucker your lips on instinct, accidentally kissing his tip instead. Hajime thought you were doing it on purpose to fuck with him, not realizing that you were tripping out of nervousness.

"Don't be a tease."

"I'm not!" you countered before quickly wrapping your lips around his cock. The warmth of your mouth sent shivers down his spine. But the slight grazing of your teeth on his sensitive shaft made him uncomfortable.

"Ah shit.... less teeth. Gotta hollow out your cheeks a bit."

Your jaw was already hurting. Though it probably had less to do with your skill and more to do with his size. He seemed more manageable with just a hand, but now that you're using your mouth, the task seemed gargantuan now.

But you still try. You do as he says and you feel his entire body relax a bit. It takes a lot of your concentration to make sure your teeth were out of the way and your lips provided enough suction.

That alone had Hajime seeing stars. It wasn't the best blowjob of his life, but seeing that it was your head bobbing up-and-down on his dick was a sensation in and of itself.

After getting used to the basics, you decide to throw in a little bit of tongue action. It caught him by complete surprise and a soft groan spilled from his lips.

Scared that you had hurt him, you were about to lift your head to ask him, but his hand quickly places itself on top of your head. He wasn't rough nor did he forcefully keep your head down.

Instead, he began caressing your hair—starting from the top of your head, going down to smooth your locks. It was his way of reassuring you that he felt fine—amazing even. You were doing a damn good job for someone who hasn't done this before.

Hajime avoided using his voice throughout the whole thing to make it less intimate and more 'educational' if that even made sense. But he understood that you probably needed more reassurance.

"That's it," he started. "You're doing so well... so well for me."

Hajime had filthier things to say otherwise, but again, this was supposed to be 'educational'.

As much as you want to keep up the pace that you built, your jaw was too sore for that. A bit of a break wouldn't hurt, so you retract yourself—tongue lolled out with a string of saliva connecting your lips to his tip. The sight alone would have made him bust, but he kept his composure... somewhat.

"Oh fuck..."

His words spurred you on, however. You settled on suckling his tip while your hand worked on the rest of his length. Having the best of both worlds made his head spin. His leaking tip was the most sensitive it had ever been and the fast pace of your hand made the coil in his stomach tighter and tighter.

Hajime wanted nothing more but to come in your mouth—consider it as payment for him teaching you. His dick began to twitch again like earlier, but this time you noticed the way his abs would tense up. The dampness that had been pooling in your underwear ever since you had his dick in your hand was starting to become distracting. But you pulled through.

"Fuckkk... I'm coming in your mouth," he announced. Thick white ropes of hot cum painted your tongue. The flavor was odd—something you've never tasted before. It made your face contort a bit.

He tried catching his breath after that single mindblowing orgasm. But through his high, he noticed the hesitation on your face. "You don't have to swallow that you—"

But he stops mid-sentence as he watched you gulp down his fresh seed. You've gone this far—might as well.

Hajime swore that he felt his dick twitch back to life, ready for more. He wasn't sure what you did to him. But now he was certain that you absolutely shouldn't do this with anyone but him.

"Fuck... forget about that moron. Have fun with me instead."

©miyukisu do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms

╰ author's note Wow... I'm actually kinda proud of this one?

[yogurtkags]

❝ HUSH ❞ — sakusa kiyoomi

cw. f!reader, fluff, olympics au, athletic trainer!reader, timeskip characters, established relationship, secret marriage, language (omi swears like once), not beta read (sorry!) word count. ~ 1.6k

“japan’s outside hitter sakusa kiyoomi and newly revealed wife, athletic trainer y/n l/n, steals the spotlight in the city of love!”

@tetzoro's summer olympics collab

your eyes glance in his direction, letting it linger on his figure as the team settles down into their corner. he’s a little tense, understandably so– it’s his first time at the olympics, and with the pressure of the finals sitting on his shoulders, the nerves are showing, though carefully hidden behind his standard resting face that you can see through so well. the lights hanging along the ceilings of the south paris arena cast a tasteful warm glow along the contours of his face. despite the subconscious clenched jaw and slightly downturned lips that make you want to kiss the frown off so badly, there’s a shine in his eyes like no other.

the last few days have been pretty rough, of stiff beds, subpar food and sleeping without kiyoomi. you know he feels the same if the progressively increasing frequency of late night calls and texts are any indication. with the boys sharing rooms in twos amongst themselves and the rest of the team’s staff being housed in a separate wing of the building, falling asleep in his arms was a faraway thought since you arrived at the olympic village.

loml ♡ : miya snores so fuckin’ loudly i can’t handle this me : well it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve dealt with it baby loml ♡ : i still think we should’ve fought harder for us sharing a room

he drifts off into slumber easily after washing up and getting his fill of talking to you (never enough), the mental and physical fatigue of matches and practices in between taking a toll on his body, but for you, being wrapped in his warm embrace was the perfect recipe and vital to a good night's sleep. it’s safe to say that you haven’t been sleeping well for the past week.

it didn’t help that being sworn to secrecy about your relationship also meant that any interactions you had with him outside being the team’s athletic trainer was like treading on eggshells. it feels like you’re in high school again, sitting next to him in the dining hall during meal times with your clasped hands hidden under the table from watchful eyes, his thumb rubbing soft circles against the back of your hand or squeezing ever so often, as if to affirm his presence and silently reassure that i’m here.

it seems to be a trend lately for athletes to be active on their social media platforms, be it their team’s or just a personal account, recounting stories or even taking avid viewers through “a day in the life of an olympic athlete” — without looking too far, even miya jumped on the bandwagon, often seeing suna running around filming short clips of their shenanigans in free pockets of time during the day. you and kiyoomi talked about it before the season began, keeping any non-professional interactions to a minimum. there’s eyes everywhere and it’s better to be safe than sorry.

both of you are very private people, it was only natural that you preferred to keep your personal life and matters to yourselves behind closed doors. this ended up being a double-edged sword, because everyone wants to be all up in your business, especially kiyoomi who finds himself in the spotlight more often, being apart of the “young handsome eligible bachelors” of the MSBY 4 and now one of the most sought-after new additions to japan’s national team.

you on the other hand, were better known by twitter as “the pretty trainer” from the shweiden adlers and now the national team, standing next to another fan-favourite, iwaizumi hajime. thankfully your role is kept more so behind the scenes, checking on the players during games and making sure they remain in tip-top shape on and off the court.

being the quiet and brooding one amongst outgoing chatterboxes meant that the media would try to dig any information out of kiyoomi, but prying interviewers and prodding questions towards him and his love life were smoothly deflected and brushed aside, the boys even coming to his defense if anyone got too pushy with it, which you were beyond thankful for. not that they needed to most of the time, he’s known to be curt with his responses and quick to bring the topic back to the game, and no one likes a snappy sakusa anyway, many have learned this the hard way.

just months prior to the both of you getting called in to begin training for the olympics and before schedules start to pick up, you had a small private wedding in your hometown with just close friends and family, the ceremony kept under lock and key and tucked away from the public eye. it made it all the more intimate, more like a quiet gathering to celebrate your union than a grand spectacle, which suited you perfectly. the honeymoon hasn’t happened yet with the timing of everything, you’re saving it for post-season when you both can finally take a break and relax for a little while.

you won’t deny that there are some days where you wished that things were different, and that you could openly express your love for each other without scrutiny and attention being on you, but alas, that is to be expected as someone exposed to the public eye.

the olympics is your first public appearance as married individuals, not that anyone particularly cares about your status, their eyes instead zeroing in on kiyoomi and the chain around his neck carrying a shiny new silver band. it's safe to say that judging by the scowl on his face and the chatter buzzing around the front rows of stands as the team settles into their side of the court, his “mystery wife" is the new talk of the town.

when he comes over to you during timeout, his eyes meet yours bashfully as you hand him a bottle, fingers brushing against yours in an unspoken apology. you just smile and lightly pat his back as he turns to join the team huddle. there’s nothing to be sorry for, silly.

these little moments mean everything to you, even though it looks like nothing in the grand scheme of things. just being there with him and coming together with a shared passion even if it's in different fields of the broader spectrum of sport, fills you with a sense of happiness and content. watching him in his element and being able to support him on the sidelines through it all, you'd never trade that for the world.

and as you’re sitting at the edge of your seat with your bum hanging on for dear life, you lean forward with your hands pressed together, the top of your index fingers resting against the tip of your nose like a pseudo prayer. match point.

it feels like you’re watching the longest rally of your life and like a bad habit, your knee begins bouncing up and down in your nervousness and anticipation. iwaizumi too, is so engrossed in the play at hand that he doesn’t notice, or maybe he just doesn’t care enough in this moment to stop you with his usual slap to your thigh and a chiding comment, “stop it, even my grandma back in sendai can feel the tremours from your goddamn knees.”

with bated breath, you watch kageyama tosses one beautiful arc of a set to kiyoomi as he leaps into the air and makes contact with the ball.

with a powerful spike, he is a force to be reckoned with, sending the ball home as the opponents dive to save it, their arms hands and fingers stretching out in a last ditch attempt to connect and rescue the point, but to no avail. the ball lands with a harsh thud and as he stands tall above their groveling, the whistle blows and the crowds roar.

your arms instinctively raise in a cheer, and in the next moment they’re closed over your mouth, tears pricking your eyes as you stumble over your feet and scramble to get up. as the team rushes towards him with shouts of celebration, his eyes immediately dart in your direction, softening as he sees you dashing over. with knowing smirks and crescent moons for eyes, the boys follow his line of sight and give him firm slaps on the back, parting the hoard for you and giving just enough room for him to uncharacteristically swoop you up in his arms and crash his lips into yours, all caution thrown to the wind.

all the noise halts and time stands still, everything fades away and nothing else in the world matters in the moment, not the people, not the cameras, just the overwhelming rush of joy and pride, and love, oh love, swelling from the depths of your chest and your heart bursting at its seams.

your senses flood with everything kiyoomi, from the way the sweaty strands of his hair at the back of his neck feel on your fingertips, his cheeks dampening from your tears, the nudge of his nose against yours, and the press of his smile on your locked lips. he breathes out and you breathe him in, letting all of his being rest in the room in your heart saved specially for him, seeping into every corner of your soul.

when you inevitably pull apart for air, the current predicament doesn't exactly click in your mind just yet until he grabs your hand and pulls you into his side, shielding you from the onslaught of reporters and press looking to get a fresh scoop on the hottest piece of news. with blown out eyes, you look at him in a daze and disbelief, did that really just happen?

the smug smirk on his face says it all.

the matching silver bands on your finger and hanging around his neck, it was always there. for the longest time it was your little secret, and now a declaration of love and devotion — not even a shiny new gold medal could compare.

© yogurtkags. please do not repost, plagiarise, or translate my work.

[kissatsumu]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ IWAIZUMI HAJIME boyfriend hcs !

— gender neutral reader, fluff, timeskip

— masterlist + requests

Iwaizumi Hajime (27) athletic trainer, oh the man that you are <3

Iwaizumi is the type of boyfriend who keeps whatever your essentials are on him all the time just in case you need it (hairties, chapstick, hand sanitizer, gum, etc.)

pet names he’d call you: angel, baby, sweetheart, pretty girl/boy, honey

now pet names for him, he’ll literally let you call him anything you want. (even if its a really cringy one like snookums or bubbas lmao he’ll just laugh or roll his eyes) but his favorites are definitely dear or love! he also loves if you call him handsome <3

hajime who has never been the type of guy to take many pictures. but once he started dating you, he suddenly always has his phone out and taking candid pics of you. (by no means is he a good photographer but just loves having you in him camera roll). definitely has you as his lock screen too!!

he’s a really good cook. he loves cooking for you whenever you come over. (but also like please stay out of the kitchen and let him do his thing)

he prefers simple dates with you. dinner, picnic, walks around the city or a park, stargazing, etc. he just wants to spend time with you

okay okay i want to talk about hand placement!!!! hajime always places a hand on your lower back to gently bring you in closer when he kisses you. this or he likes to hold your hands in his.

when walking with you, if you’re not holding his hand, he really likes when you cling to his arm <3 or he likes having his arm around your shoulders

he definitely follows the sidewalk rule (walking on the side close to the street to keep you safe) its kind of old fashioned but he kinda does it instinctively

also kind of old fashioned but he is such the type of guy who keeps a photo of you in his wallet

very slowly hinting to you that he wants you to move in with him. he’s so cute he just wants to be able to cook for you, wake up with you, and come home to you every day

his love language is acts of service. he feels that he’s able to express his love for you best by doing things that make you feel happy n loved

iwaizumi hajime who would absolutely adore his partner :(((

notes: ty for reading! interactions are appreciated and my requests are open😋 good night <3

[darlingbabyboo]

--"what do you mean your dad doesn't like me?"

♡ Synopsis: you love your boyfriend more than anything in the world... it's too bad that your parents don't feel the same.

♡ Content: Kageyama, Tsukishima, Iwaizumi, Kenma, Suna, Atsumu. Black female reader! I don't believe that there's mentions of height but I'm writing this from my view and I'm pretty short so be wary...

♡ Notes: I actually don't remember writing this, I think I got possessed for a minute but that's okay <3. Hope y'all enjoy, it's been a minute since I wrote for Haikyuu

Kageyama

Case of a bad first meeting

Kageyama is an awkward boy okay, and there's nothing wrong with it but it kinda messes things up when your parents are introduced to him

You've been talking about your sweet caring boyfriend who loves to take care of you and supports you when things go wrong and your parents have high expectations because of how much you've been gassing him up

They follow you to one of his games, and they're very impressed by his volleyball abilities

When the game ends with Karasuno's win, they accept the interaction with Kageyama to go like this❤️🥰😊💖😘

Instead Kageyama just looks at you like 😐

And they're not the biggest fan of that

"Tobio, baby, you did so good!" You exclaim as he comes towards all of you. Your parents watch expectantly, waiting for the sour expression on his face to disappear at the sight of you. A smile, grin, laugh, something.

Instead, he nods at the compliment, and starts staring at the nonexistent spot on the floor.

They frown, that was not what they expected.

Your mother leans into your father, "I thought he would be..."

"Sweeter," Your father finishes for her. They watch the encounter with dismay. You continue to send a barrage of compliments to your boyfriend only for the other's stare at the floor to turn into a full blown glare.

"I need to go," He suddenly interrupts your ranting. They watch, hoping that he'll redeem himself with a short embrace, but he only nods at you, and offers your parents a small wave.

"Isn't he great!" You gush as you watch the setter walk back to his team.

Your parents frown, not at all.

Bonus

"Bakeyama! Their parents definitely hate you!"

"Shut up Boke!" He yells back at Hinata, rubbing his cheeks like he can erase the red from his face. He could barely look you in the eyes with you wearing his jersey. It was the first time you had ever done something like that and he reacted like an idiot!

"You're so stupid!" The shorter male giggles, "I have no idea how you got with someone!"

He snarls, "shut up shut up shut up!"

Tsukishima

Tsukishima's a great suckup, you'd think he'd be great around your parents

...no, just no

Your mama's smart and she knows a fakeass when she sees one

Tsukishima might act all nice but your mama says, 'he got the devil in his eyes' she's right lol

He can't do nothing without absolute disgust being targeted at him 😭😭😭

He could be offering to help with dinner

And she offers back a side eyes him with a scowl on her face

Tsukishima is doing his best pray for my mans 🙏🏾

"Oh, ma'am, I can help with-"

"Don't bother," your mother cuts off, holding her hand up to stop the blonde from continuing his offer, "I don't need your help." She spits out. As she leaves to the kitchen she starts muttering something about him under her breath. He can't pick it up, but he knows it's not anything good.

He gives you a desperate look, it's been like this all night. He did his best to put on a nice smile and dress the best- he begged (though he would never tell you that)- his mom to bake some pie so that he could bring it to dinner just so everything would be perfect when meeting your mom, but it was all for nothing. It was an understatement to say that she didn't like him.

She fucking hated him.

You give him a look as if to say, what can you do? You did your best to talk Kei up, but as soon as she saw him, she decided she didn't like him. You put your hand over his, resting on the table.

"I'm sorry." You whisper, feeling horrible that he had worked so hard for nothing.

"It's just- I wished she liked." He interlocks your hand and squeezes it anxiously, "I don't know what else I should do."

You open your mouth to try to comfort him, but-

"Baby get in the kitchen, your mama needs help!" In a voice that leaves no room for argument.

You wince, you know that you can't say no when your mom starts talking in that tone. You give Kei an apologetic look and his shoulders slump, burying his head in his hands.

Iwaizumi

Worst possible meeting of your boyfriend

Iwaizumi has a habit of hitting you (playfully)

Your dad just happen to catch you two when it looks like he's hitting you

He is traumatized and horrified

Shitting crying throwing up fr when your father starts to threaten to end his life if he come near you again

"Where's my favourite member of Aoba Johsai~" You sing, playfully poking his shoulder.

He puts an arm around your shoulder and pulls you into him "right here babe."

You wriggle out of his grip, "you don't look like Oikawa to me."

He rolls his eyes, "fuck you." He knocks your head, not hard enough to bruise but enough to look threatening, he laughs at your flinch.

"Coward," He mocks.

You stick out your bottom lip and just as you open your mouth to respond-

"Fuck you say about my daughter."

He gasps when someone's hand grips his upper arm. The man's eyes are filled with pure rage, and his grip tightens so hard it's almost like he's trying to tear it out of his arm. He watches the man, and in a horrifying realization he sees that the man has your eyes.

It's your dad.

Shit.

"This is not what it looks like," He sputters out, in an attempt not to look like an abusive dickhead, "we just-"

"Shut up." The man grits out, and impossibly the grip on his arm tightens even more. "if I ever see you around my little girl again, I will fucking kill you."

"Dad-" You attempt to protest.

"No." Your dad interrupts your plea, "I told you to be careful around these trashy high schoolers- about getting yourself involved in these stupid boys." He shakes Iwaizumi like a ragdoll to further emphasize his point. "I never want to see you around him again."

You eyes go wide, "Dad, wha- that's not fair!"

Your father doesn't listen to your protests, harshly pushing away Iwaizumi and grabbing your hand. You fight against it for a bit but give up when your father won't let up. You turn around to face Iwaizumi, mouthing I'm sorry.

He just nods, and as soon as you're gone he places his fist against his forehead, wondering how he could have fucked things up so much.

Kenma

I love Kenma but he's not a conventional bf

Your dad wants you to be happy but at the same time he's looking at him and thinking, really, you couldn't do any better

He can barely hide the disgust when he's playing on his video games, slouched over like the Hunchback of Notre Dame and heavy bags under his eyes

You're telling him that he's a highly valued member of his team and then he sees him get winded going up a the stairs

Okay sweetie 🤗🤗🤗

Kenma finds the hate as more of an annoyance than anything tbh

He doesn't sweat too much about it, the only reason he tries is because he doesn't like you being upset about the uneasiness between your parents and him

"Hey," He says, all he can get out before he practically collapses against you. It was a long game and all he wants to do is melt into your arms. "'s nice tha' you came." He keeps panting, just on the brink of passing out.

"Hey Kenny." You say, running a hand through his hair and pressing a gentle kiss on his forehead, "you were really good in this game."

He doesn't have the energy to thank you, all the air practically gone from his lungs, instead he nods and buries his face into your neck.

After a minute of you carding your hand through his hair you say the dreaded words, "my dad's expecting you to greet him..."

He groans, "will he accept a weak wave."

"Not at all."

He groans louder as he painfully removes himself from your gasp. he looks up to your dad, who is predictably glaring at him. He gives a weak smile and wills himself to go towards the man.

What he'll do for you.

Suna

YOUR DAD DOES NOT TRUST HIM

He does not like him around you at all and thinks his precious baby deserves to be around someone better

Your dad finds him a little too nonchalant for his taste and thinks that his baby needs to be around someone that spoils you

Suna is surprised when he's hit with the hatred bcs he didn't think he did anything???

"Rinnie, you did so good!" You exclaim, wrapping your arms around his neck, he in return wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"Thanks," He responds, pressing his lips to your forehead.

He pulls away when he hears someone clear his throat. He looks at the other man, he looks like the spitting image of you. A smile creeps up his lips at how similar you look to your father.

He nods to him as a greeting.

Your father does not accept that.

"You too good for a handshake?" The man questions.

He opens his mouth, instinctively ready for a snappy remark, but he immediately closes it when your father glares. This is, apparently, no laughing matter, and he really doesn't feel like making things worse. Instead, he pulls his hand forward.

"Hey, I'm Suna Rintaro." He introduces.

"Hey." Your father mockingly echos (he exchanges a quick glance with you, did he do something? Why does the man already hate him), but he still accepts the handshake.

He winces when the older man squeezes, strong grip feeling like he's trying to tear his arm off. He drops his hand and puts it in his pocket, trying to shrug off the burning feel.

"Strong grip there Sir." He remarks, trying to make it come across light-hearted.

The other man doesn't show any positive reaction. "It's the grip of a man."

"Or a serial killer." He mutters. Apparently, not quiet enough, as you wince and the vein on your father's forehead bulges out in anger.

"We'll talk later, okay Rinnie." You say, offering an escape. He smiles, grateful for the opening. He'll take his escape while he still can.

"I'll see you later angel." He presses another kiss to your forehead and leaves, pretending he doesn't notice the glare of your father. That's something for another day.

Atsumu

Poor guy had no idea that your dad did not f with him 😭😭😭

He loves both your parents!

They gave birth to you and you're the greatest person ever!!! Of course he loves them

But apparently the hate is on sight with them

He starts to walk over and he starts scowling 😒

When you asked your dad why they didn't like Atsumu, he just clucked and said

'That blonde boy ain't right,' your dad muttered and offered NO OTHER INFO

"Hey princess, you like the match?" He smacks a kiss to your cheek and wraps a hand around your waist, "scored that last point for you."

"Just the last point?" You tease. "Were the other points for your other girlfriends."

"No other girls but you princess." He says, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

Your interrupted by your dad clearing his throat, very loudly.

You two break apart, and you offer your parents a sheepish glance.

"Are you going to introduce us honey?" Your mom says, with an odd look in her eyes that Atsumu can't decipher.

"Mom, dad, this is Miya Atsumu, the boy I've been talking about so much."

"It's a pleasure to meet you two." Atsumu says, giving his widest, kindest, toothiest grin.

Your mother gives him a weak smile back, while your father just watches him, like a predator looks at its prey before snapping its neck.

He waits for the two to respond, but they just keep staring.

After a few moments of nothing he coughs, "would you two like to join us for lunch- I'd like to celebrate my win with my favourite girl and her parents."

You giggle at that, but your parents show no reaction.

"It's getting awfully late for lunch." Your father says gruffly.

He laughs, "it's only 7."

Your father doesn't share his humour. He turns to you, "I don't want you out so late with some guy."

He bites his tongue at the last part, some guy? He's thinks you two have been together enough to be more than some guy.

"It's not even that late." You whine.

"The sun's about to set."

"It's only 7!" You reiterate, you turn to your mom, "Mama please!"

Your mom shakes her head, "I think you should listen to your father. It's getting late, and you should be careful who you share your company with." She gives a pointed glance to Atsumu.

It's like someone reached into his chest and ripped out his heart. He forces himself to smile, "ya'know, we don't need to celebrate today, I'll let ya get back home princess."

"But 'tsumu-" You attempt to protest.

"It's fine." He interrupts. He plays nonchalant and shrugs, "there are other days."

He grasps your hands and presses kisses to your knuckles. "I'll text you later, okay?"

You pout, but concede, "m'kay."

He offers a goodbye to your parents but they've turned their attention away, looking anywhere else but but at him. He swallows, he'll deal with that later.

[stawbeemilk]

⤷ when they're jealous – hq

✩ characters: various

✩ warnings: none

✩ a/n: sorry for being so inactive lately, i've been busy working on my ac island hehe

⭑ gets possessive

this guy is definitely the jealous type. as much as he tries not to, he always ends up letting his emotions get the best of him, and whenever he happens to catch someone else hitting on you he can't help but become all possessive over you. once he notices them getting a little too close for his liking he won't hesitate to approach the two of you, immediately interrupting the conversation by asking you who they are, and making sure to refer to you by a pet name as a not so subtle way of letting the other person know exactly who you belong to. gets super clingy with you afterwards, refusing to leave your side and making sure everyone around you knows that you're his.

⤷ kageyama, yaku, kuroo, yahaba, semi, futakuchi, atsumu

⭑ acts unbothered

pretends he doesn't care, but on the inside he's furious. he can't help but narrow his eyes at the other person, watching as you erupt into laughter at one of their jokes— even though it wasn't really that funny. once the interaction is over he'll try his best to keep up the act, finding himself becoming more reserved than usual as he attempts to hide the fact that someone else flirting with you made him far more irritated than he’d like to admit. it isn't until you call him out on his obvious jealousy that he gets all embarrassed, shocked that you noticed so easily because he genuinely believed that he was being subtle. he will probably try to deny it, but deep down he knows it's pointless as you somehow manage to always see right through him.

⤷ tsukishima, kenma, kunimi, sakusa, washio, suna, shirabu

⭑ ready to throw hands

will definitely try to fight anyone who dares to hit on you, to the point where he's basically your own personal guard dog. not only will he refuse to tolerate anyone flirting with you, he won't let them get away with looking at what's his either. as soon as he realises someone has been staring at you for a little too long, he'll be quick to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you into him, all while glaring daggers at the person who had the nerve to shamelessly check you out like that. he might get a little defensive about it afterwards, especially if you start teasing him, but whenever someone starts eyeing you up and down like that he just can't stop himself from getting protective of you, simply because he hates the thought of anyone making you uncomfortable.

⤷ kyotani, iwaizumi, tanaka, konoha, aran, nishinoya, matsukawa

⭑ feels insecure

it's not that he believes you would ever be unfaithful, because he trusts you completely— it's just that deep down he thinks you're too good for him and that you could do way better. when he sees someone else trying to flirt with you he can't help but feel a little nervous, insecure thoughts plaguing his mind as he begins worrying that he's not good enough for you. he probably won't say anything to you about it afterwards, but you don't miss the sad look in his eyes or the way he appears to be trapped in his own thoughts. you know by now that he needs a lot of reassurance due to his tendency to overthink, and so you always remind him that he's good enough at times like these when you know he needs to hear it the most.

⤷ akaashi, koganegawa, asahi, hanamaki, tendou, yamaguchi

⭑ super touchy with you

whenever he gets jealous he finds himself unable to keep his hands off you. he's definitely the type to wrap his arms around your waist when you're in the middle of a conversation with someone else, hugging you from behind and leaning his head on your shoulder. it always manages to catch you off guard, wondering why he's being so affectionate with you all of a sudden, but with the way he scowls at the other person and pulls you into him it doesn't take you long to figure out that he's jealous. he won't be able to keep his hands off you for the rest of the day, asking you for cuddles or wanting to hold your hand, and pouting when you start making fun of him for it.

⤷ bokuto, oikawa, sugawara, osamu, hinata, lev, daishou

⤷ please do not repost my works on any other sites!

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹｡ mornings don't feel the same without you | iwaizumi hajime

wc: 3.0k

summary: ​​hajime thinks that it's been a long time coming for him to wake up with this realization.

contains: implied f!reader, lingerie, use of slut (teasingly/jokingly, not to reader), lots of suggestive stuff (touching, implied sex), so much love!!, hajime is also a wee bit sentimental here, established relationship

a/n: not a lot of plot, just a lot of love! haven’t written hajime in a while, but he’s on my mind all the time. these are the songs that inspired me: lights down low, never had you, it’s you, and forever right now. 

part of how to be your lover boy (a valentine's collab by augustinewrites & seiwas) + the in's and out's new year/birthday event | request prompt: making yourself look good to feel good (your partner has something to say to you)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Hajime thinks he’s built a pretty solid life for himself—good health, good job, good relationships; all on equal footing, in no particular order. The routine he’s built is deliberate and filled with purpose, a system diligently followed to keep himself running. 

He firmly believes that if you want to live the life you want, you have to start with yourself. A simple choice, the first step. 

And Hajime’s chosen the mornings, an old conscious effort to wake up at 6:00 on the dot now transformed into a natural rise to the softness of daylight. 

You call him a creature of habit, one that leaves no day to rest, even on Valentine’s Day. 

Sunlight trickles between his curtains, ripples of translucent white highlighting the tip of your nose. He sees you through a sleep haze, olive eyes blinking awake like the leaves on your bedside, ready to tickle your cheek and wave when you turn the other way. 

It suits you, he thinks, to be touched by light when you don’t know it. 

You’re warm under the palm of his hand, bare flesh a soft place to rest between him and your hip bone. If he focuses hard enough, he can feel the faint thump of your heartbeat, almost in tandem with the small puffs of air hitting his chin. 

He sighs, the corners of his mouth curling in contentment. 

A good life. 

Evidence of last night is strewn across the room—the red tulips on your bedside and his slacks hanging off the bed. The shirt he’d worn lies atop the dress he slipped off you, half of your black two-piece set caught in it.

The memory replays vividly—bites to his neck down to his collarbone, a pull of his hair and his lower lip caught between yours. You handle Hajime roughly because you know he can take it, know that it gets him going the more you want him. 

But with you, he takes his time—runs his fingers over every area he’s grown fond of (which is everywhere, really). He strips you down slowly, unwrapping you like a gift labeled: handle with care, open gently. 

Then, he savors it—you.

The wrapper lies next to his head, half-tucked underneath his pillow, a piece of elegant black lace you know drives him crazy. 

A perk of celebrating Valentine’s Day two ways is that one half belongs to him and the other to you—a team effort to make the day as special as it can be. 

He shifts, hand sliding up to rest on your waist. The movement causes you to stir, digging your cheek deeper into your pillow as you scrunch your brows—a sign of you coming to wake. 

Hajime immediately shuts his eyes, feigning sleep. Last night was all his—flowers, a nice dinner, and the dessert that came after it. This morning is yours, with only one instruction for him: sleep in. 

How upset would you be if he ruined your surprise? 

The bed dips on your side, no doubt you reaching for the bedside to check the time. Even with his eyes shut, he has your mornings memorized. A whispered ‘shit’ almost makes him break into a smile, but he reigns it in, expression neutral and breathing steady. 

You move again, his hand still on your waist as you turn once more, to what he can only assume is to face him. There’s a momentary pause that makes him worry you’ve found him out, but he feels your fingertips run over the crease between his brows, smoothening it out the way you always do. 

(He has a terrible habit of frowning in his sleep, he’s learned.)

It makes him nervous the longer you linger, the tips of your fingers sliding down the bridge of his nose to rest on his lips, running over it once, twice. Then you sigh, inching closer before gently nudging his nose with yours.

The small peck you land on his lips almost makes him break, but he holds it in, letting you sneak away (albeit badly) for whatever it is you’re planning for today. 

(The bed dips too deeply, comforter rustling as you untangle yourself from it. You stub your toe on the edge of your bedside table and attempt to muffle an ‘ouch’, even though he can hear you—pretty clearly actually. He has to bite his lip to stop himself from chuckling.)

If it were up to him, Hajime would just keep you here, no sneaking around or stubbed toes, no surprise or anything—just you, wrapped in his arms, under his sheets. 

.

Just as he’d promised though, he did sleep in (if an extra 20 minutes of forcing his eyes shut counts as that). 

The flowers on your bedside are gone, and so is his shirt—the sheets beside him crinkled in the shape of your haste to get up from it. He yawns, running a hand through his hair to fix up the mess you made of it last night. 

As part of his routine, Hajime stretches, first with his neck—side-to-side, up-and-down—then with his back, twisting left and right. Next, he changes, puts on a pair of gray sweatpants that you claim must be a staple in his wardrobe (you say he looks like he could fuck you up, its hem hanging dangerously low to reveal the grooves of that deep v-line leading to his pelvis).

After pushing aside the curtains for sunlight to stream through, he cleans the room, picking up the mess of clothes on the floor and making the bed; you usually do this, because you’re particular with the pillow placements, but he’ll take over for now. 

This should buy you enough time, right? An extra 10 minutes for your planned surprise.

He takes a breath, doing one last scan of the room before stepping out. 

As soon as he gets into the hallway, he smells chocolate. 

Each step he takes is consciously softened as he carries his weight, carefully making his way to the sight of you, back towards him in nothing but his t-shirt hanging temptingly high to barely conceal black lace. You seem focused, entirely preoccupied with the kitchen stove.

A familiar feeling settles into his stomach, warm and soothing, one he’s been having more and more around you lately. The corner of his lips curl up. 

For Hajime, the best way to start the day is with the morning light and you.

He sneaks up behind your back, peeking over your shoulder at the chocolate pancakes you seem to be slowly ladling into the pan. And just when you’ve formed a figure he can only assume is a heart, he takes a step closer, hands resting on your hips as he scrunches up the fabric between his fingers.

“Morning,” he whispers, chin resting on your shoulder as his lips brush the side of your neck, soft and ticklish; you shiver, just a little bit. 

The greeting comes out rough, husky, and you lean into him, your hand coming to rest over his, hiking up your (his) shirt to reveal a slight peek at the black lace hugging the curves of your buttcheek. 

“Morning.” you chuckle when you hear his breath hitch. The pancake in front of you gets flipped to the other side. 

“How’s your head?” he moves to peck your temple. Hajime knows you get the worst hangovers no matter how little you have to drink, and last night was by no means little.

You groan, turning off the stove, letting the residual heat cook the pancake through. 

“Terr–” 

As you turn to him within his arms, you pause, blinking uncontrollably at the presence of Hajime’s bare skin in front of you. Your eyes go wide, zeroing in on the full chest beneath your palms, the cuts of his shoulders, and his arms. Oh—

“Slut.” your brows furrow, lips pouting as you stifle a smile. 

Hajime laughs, olive eyes crinkling as he holds you closer, hands coming to clasp at your lower back. 

“Put on a shirt, you know I can’t focus like this.” 

He knows, because you say this almost every morning, every time. 

“I would,” remnants of his amusement linger on his lips, hand reaching to squeeze your butt as he narrows his gaze mischievously, “but someone stole it.” 

You giggle, arms coming up to wind around his neck, fingers playing with the shorter strands of his hair. Then, you tiptoe, white fuzzy slippers slotting itself between his matching green ones as you tilt your head up for a kiss. 

As it is, Hajime’s liking how this surprise is going. 

He leans in, eyes falling shut as he presses against you. His hand cradles your jaw, callused skin tickling you ever so slightly as he guides your head to turn the other way. Hajime can hardly stop whenever you get him started like this, your lower lip already caught between his teeth. 

But you nip it, right as his other hand crawls underneath your shirt, pulling away as he tries to chase for more. The frown on his face is hard to miss. 

“Gonna get dressed,” you smile amusedly, feigning innocence.

“Isn’t this already too dressed?” he raises an eyebrow, tugging at your (his) shirt. His fingers trail lower, hooking themselves into the lace of your underwear. 

“Don’t be a flirt,” you scrunch your nose, “I feel gross.” 

He squeezes your hip, “I’m gross too.” 

You give him a look. 

He gives you one back. 

If Hajime had the words, he’d tell you you’re the furthest thing from gross, making him breakfast in his clothes and that pretty black number you know drives him up-the-wall crazy.

This is the stuff of his dreams. 

But then you give him those eyes, and you know just as well he’s weak to that too. So he sighs, loosening his grip so you can slip away. 

“I’ll make you eggs!” he calls out as you disappear into the bedroom. 

Your breakfast spread for him is set up on the counter, the chocolate heart pancake on the pan the last needed addition to complete everything. It’s sweet, how you prepared a full-on chocolate feast for him: hot chocolate with chocolate heart pancakes, and butter also in the shape of a heart. The tulips he’d gotten you rest prettily inside the vase he remembers from your first anniversary pottery date.

He feels especially sentimental today taking everything in, noticing how the mug that holds your half-finished coffee matches the one that holds his hot chocolate. 

In the little over two years that you’ve been together, you’ve assimilated yourself into his space so naturally that it feels like you’ve always just been here—that it feels right how all your chips fill up the entire bottom shelf of his pantry because you love snacking on them whenever, wherever.

He cracks in two eggs. 

The throw on his couch matches the pillows all because of you, and bottles of your daily vitamins sit perfectly beside all his supplements in the spice-rack turned morning-essentials-rack (one of your so-called organization hacks). 

The pan sizzles, edges of the eggs turning crisp—just how you like it (lately, it’s how he’s been liking it too). 

When you step out of the bedroom, Hajime’s begun plating your food, pouring in another batch of coffee and preparing a bowl of fruits. 

(Today, it’s strawberries—one of your favorites. He made sure to stock up on that for today.) 

Hajime thinks he’s built a pretty solid life for himself—

He prides himself on his routine and the stability of his day-to-day: the mornings, with you raiding his closet and stealing his clothes; the late afternoons, when he picks you up from work and you crash his place because it’s begun to feel so much more like home. 

The evenings cap the day off perfectly, with you tucked under his chin and your leg slung over his hip. It’s too warm, but you get cold easily and he doesn’t mind the warmth when you’re pressed up skin-to-skin. 

And when he sees you in his sweatshirt—the one paired with the sweatpants he’s wearing right now, he smirks knowingly, setting down the utensils with a dopey smile on his face. 

This is good. 

—his life that you now also fit into. 

“Sorry you had to prep the rest,” you pad towards the counter, taking a seat on the stool as he waves it off and sits beside you, “thank you.” 

Without even a word, there’s a painkiller sitting on the palm of his hand, open and waiting for you already. 

You stare at him, puppy-dog eyes and everything, pouting as your fingertips graze his, “I love you.” 

He laughs, rolling his eyes jokingly as he hands you a glass of water, his cheeks already dusted peach.

Shyness still hits him when you’re so vocal like this, but Hajime has known he’s loved you since that day at some outdoor concert you dragged him into. The forecast was gloomy but you’d insisted it was an experience he shouldn’t miss, so he agreed—packed an umbrella and wore a jacket with a hood even, just in case. 

But there you were, in the middle of the downpour, dancing under the rain, and when you’d beckoned him closer, you had that same look on your face. 

“Love you too,” he whispers against your forehead, pressing his lips against it, “happy Valentine’s Day, babe.” 

Breakfasts with the two of you are usually rushed, but work for him today isn’t until noon and you have an entire day off to pack for a two-week business trip you’re set to leave for tomorrow.

So, this is nice. You both have time.  

You’re talking about all sorts of things—some work gossip, that nice old lady who lives a few units down from him; there’s the whole itinerary for your business trip too—meeting here, meeting there. An extra hour to kill to maybe sightsee. Evenings are usually free, and so on. 

But as he’s chewing on half of the chocolate heart pancake, he just can’t, for the life of him, stop thinking. 

The more he hears about your schedule for the upcoming weeks, the more he’s realizing that this is the longest time you’ll be apart.

And he wonders, what’s that gonna be like? 

Most of your clothes will be gone from his dresser, his bathroom counter half-empty without all your skincare. No overheating at night without your arm wrapped firmly around his spine. Just one mug during breakfast, not two, and only a single pair of green fuzzy slippers pacing around the rooms. 

It’ll be a little like how it was before you.

And he hates how that’s even a possibility.  

He takes a sip from his mug.

“So, Oikawa’s taking me out on a date. Is that okay with you?” you lean against your palm, elbow supported on the counter. 

He nods, humming as he sets down the hot chocolate. 

“Hajime.” you hide your smile. 

He snaps out of it, “Hm?” 

“So you’re okay with me going on a date with Oikawa?” 

His knee-jerk scowl is much more like it. 

“That fucker asked you out?” 

You laugh, shaking your head while taking his hand to interlace your fingers with his, “Just seeing if you were listening.” 

A pause, then a squeeze. 

“Wanna tell me what you’re thinking?” 

He tilts his head slightly; one look at you and you draw it all out of him. There’s something about this—breakfasts in his kitchen, with you wearing his clothes and the morning light streaming in. You share a joke or two (or five), a few teasing touches here and there, the mood relaxed and just overwhelmingly nice. 

Hajime is so authentically himself when he’s with you that he doesn’t want anyone else knowing the parts of him that you do—

Everyone would be surprised to find that his typically uptight self is surprisingly funny when he’s let loose; he’s made you laugh a good number of times to prove it, too. 

The boys would never let him live it down if they saw him peach-faced at the tiniest bit of your affection; and they’ll tease him for eternity if they find out that the reason he taps out so early during ‘boys’ nights’ is because he still gets so excited to cuddle in bed with you. 

This is the kind of day-to-day he wants, and he knows you’re the key to all of it. 

—so, Hajime chooses you, much like he’s chosen the mornings. 

“Move in with me,” he tells you simply, two fields of olive green sincerity. 

The words flow out of him with an intensity uninhibited, something you don’t get from him very often. Your expression shifts, breath on hold and—

“When you get back.” he follows up quickly, giving you space to consider it first, “What do you think?” 

All logic is telling him he should be nervous, that this is the defining moment of another goal he’s been working his ass off to reach, but somehow, with his hand in yours, this feels easy. Comfortable in all the good ways because loving you has always been just that. 

“Sex last night was that good, huh?” 

And this—there’s never been a problem with this too. 

He snorts, cheeks turning a deep peach. 

“Just realizing that mornings don’t feel the same without you,” he admits, pulling you closer. You hop off the stool and inch closer, standing between his legs as he rests his hands on your lower back.  

“Flirt.” you scrunch your nose, squeezing his waist. 

You say that, but he sees how your smile reaches your eyes; how it glosses over when you catch his gaze. 

“Okay, muscle boy,” your hands settle on his shoulders, fingers splayed out over every dip and curve, “better do all the moving then. Want all my stuff here by the time I get back.” 

.

And he does—

When you get back, he’s contacted his landlord to get you on the lease. Your clothes are all in his (or now your?) apartment, some still in boxes but the essentials already organized in the closet now split to house both of your things. 

There’re pieces of you everywhere now, not just touches like a person half-there. A lot of the big furniture is still at your place, but that’s really just because he wants to leave that part up to you. 

—after all, it’s your home now too.

thank you notes: @augustinewrites for loving hajime as much as i do 🥹 lights down low used to be a normal soft song for me before, now it belongs to him bc of u + @soumies @mysugu bc this is kinda really so self-shippy and every time i think of seiwa i think of you both 🥺 + @ktsumu for requesting this! i know it only slightly follows the prompt but i hope you enjoy my spin on it anyway 🥺

a/n: i don't think any amount of fic can express how much i love him 🥹 but i hope this comes close 🥹

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[honeekyuu]

squeeze. [sakusa kiyoomi x reader] masterlist.

>>You have the very specific misfortune of owning the store next door to Satin Black, the new tattoo shop run by the most irritating man you've ever met

or

Sakusa Kiyoomi won't turn his fucking music down, and you won't stop showing up threatening to smash his speakers<<

series status: ongoing. ↺

warnings: mdni!!!, swearing + explicit language, NSFW, kys jokes (so many), smoking/drinking

tags: enemies to lovers, enemies with benefits, tattoo shop owner!sakusa feat. tattoo artists!akaashi/iwaizumi and piercer!suna, sakusa's an asshole, extremely intimidating tattoo shop environment, hate fucking (so much hate fucking,,,, so much)

a/n: the MOST MASSSSSSSIVE THANK YOU to @nectardaddy and @mollyrolls for cooking with me for HOURS on the playlists + pinterest + plot + characterizations. never seen a discord server so unwell in my LIFE.

✗ !!! minors do not interact !!! ✗

♫ = written content!

[playlists]. satin black || brews abridged || vibes

[intros]. place of (homosexual) business || aone's body count

[01]. checkered vans

[02]. the devil. ♫

[03]. ...

she put my hand up on her throat and told me // squeeze that shiiii-

squeeze [ghostemane].