#iwaizumi hajime x reader angst

[warlocksoup]

── .✦ FULL: IWAIZUMI HAJIME ── .✦

CHAPTER FIVE: changes

Iwaizumi constantly feels like the rug is about to be pulled out from underneath him. 

She’s sitting cross-legged under the sun that pours in from her window, and she looks beautiful. Iwaizumi can’t stop looking at her, and thinking about whether or not she’s going to leave him. It taints the way a light summer breeze flows in through her window, how the cicadas chirp, and the way her skin looks under the sunlight, but he can’t help himself. She’s been gone before, he figures, she could be gone again. 

Half-full boxes are littered about her room, filled with old childhood books and mismatched socks and bottles of cheap perfume. Iwaizumi wraps one of them closed with packing tape. 

Her and Akaashi had talked, a lengthy conversation that Iwaizumi was not a part of, and decided it would be better if she moved out, lived with Yukie for a bit, got away from him. They don’t know if they’re going to stay friends. Iwaizumi can’t decide how he feels about this, if her eagerness to step away from him is a good sign, or if her inability to be near Akaashi is something that should make him worried. 

He decides not to think about it too much. 

“Thanks for helping me move,” she says to him, breaking the soft silence that settled between them. She stacks a few hardcover books into a box, and Iwaizumi knows he’ll end up carrying it. “I really appreciate it.” 

“”S no problem,” Iwaizumi replies, his eyes watching her hands. “Oikawa’s been wanting to go furniture shopping, so it’s a good excuse to say no. And, y’know, I just wanna help you.” 

She smiles, eyes briefly flashing up to him. “Yeah, I know you do.” 

He was needy, for a while. It was probably too much for her to put up with, but she put up with it. The texts he sent late at night, asking if she was sure about him. The cloying way he would grab at her, holding her close to his side like someone was coming to take her away from him. Constantly asking her to repeat herself, to tell him she loves him, and really, truly means it. 

But she put up with it. She watched the way insecurity would wash over him, tensing him, making him recoil, and she would take his hand, rubbing circles into his palm until he eased. She returned every text, fell into every embrace, told him repeatedly and eagerly that yes, she does love him, and yes, she means it. 

And even still, he doubts her.

She stands, and she interlocks her fingers above her head and leans back to stretch. Iwaizumi watches as the bottom of her shirt lifts to reveal her midriff. “I’m gonna go bring some of these out to the car. I need to stretch my legs.” 

“Save the heavy boxes for me,” Iwaizumi remarks, and she bends down to pick up one, filled with posters and picture frames. 

She smiles. “You know I will,” she tells him, and takes carefully placed steps out of her bedroom, heading for his car that’s parked on the street. 

And then Iwaizumi’s there, alone, sitting on the floor of her bedroom. He looks around. It’s bare now, free of photos of her and her friends, free of posters of bands she likes and shows she’s been too, free of her. It was like this the first time Iwaizumi was there, too. 

She had just moved in, when Iwaizumi first met her, and hadn’t left her mark on the walls yet. When he had kissed her then, for the first time, he thought he had never tasted anything like her. Maybe it was then, that first night, when Iwaizumi knew she was it for him. 

Iwaizumi stands. The wooden floorboards creak when he moves. Iwaizumi loves her, he’s always loved her, and he starts to wonder, surrounded by her packed up belongings, when it will be enough for him. 

It wasn’t enough to spend almost every weekend taking up space in her bed, leaving trails of kisses down her neck. It wasn’t enough to be the one that she called when she needed someone. It wasn’t enough to have her stay with him. And it’s not enough now, even with her constant proclamations of love, to ease the ache in his chest, to quell his desire for more.

He looks down at the boxes beneath him. Things are changing for her, now. And now that his thoughts are in a downwards spiral, he asks himself if they’re going to change with him, too. If it won’t be enough for her, if things will have to change, if she’ll disappear again. There’s this knot of dread that settles in the bottom of his stomach, and he thinks about it again. Her leaving him, what it would look like, how it would break him.

“Haji.” 

He turns. He sees her standing in the doorway for just a second before she approaches him, taking long strides until her arms are around his waist and her head is resting on his shoulder. His arms go around her automatically, hand splaying across the center of her back. 

She’s warm in his arms, and it makes his heartbeat slow down, feel at ease. “I love you,” she says into his chest, unprompted, just because she wanted to. 

His thumb draws circles on top of her back, and Iwaizumi figures that it’s enough. Whatever they have, it’s enough for now. 

an: special thank you to @nekozaki this is 100% dedicated to u ellie because when i say you inspired me and motivated me to actually finish this fic i mean it and i already rambled to you about it i just feel the need to say thank you again and ily <3

also i’m lowkey pretty sad to be finishing full but like i said it’s time for yn and iwa to rest and i had so much fun writing this series :,) thank you all for reading

taglist: @spicana @akaashislovee @angee444 @wyrcan @mysteriousballer1na @socoolsocoolsocool @localgaytrainwreck @kameyyy @Kr1nqu @katctm @shoujoromancelover @Geektastic84 @brilliantshoyo @nattyluvs @r4veeen @ghostreader0307 @renardiererin @bakingcuriosity @chaloume @angelichwv @amanimoon @gigiiiiilife @s777athv @acowboykisser @charlotterosea13 @mdmraz @asrichin @justtoblivious2u @exologys @kodzu-ken @scarveen @gigiiiiislife @ashyiiy @bae-ashlynn @fandomsfanficsfantasize @rowensboat @mybelovedvi @lunaarorbiter

[heartmaddie]

magnolias, | h.iwaizumi

“why does the night have to be so beautiful?" as i walk through the night, i remember what mitsutsuka said to me. “because at night, only half the world remains.” ! all the lovers in the night , 2011

synopsis; iwaizumi hajime spends the late hours of the night intently listening to her play his favourite song through the shared wall of their apartment flats.

iwaizumi hajime x fem!reader

trope; next door neighbours

warnings; modern au , angst , no happy ending , suggestive (areas will be marked) , ooc , swearing , short lived romance. warnings will be displayed at the beginning of each chapter.

magnolias, quiz

playlist , moodboard

i; harvest moon

ii; nausea

ii; a terrible fish

iv; transient

v; vienna

vi; magnolias,

please consider liking , reblogging or following if you enjoyed send an ask or reply to this post if you’d like to be on the taglist :p

©heartmaddie all rights reserved. please do not repost my work.

[strwbrryeyes]

𖦹°｡⋆ haikyuu boys as my breakup playlist pt.3

⟡ featuring: hinata, semi, iwaizumi, kenma

⟡ cw: angst, mentions of cheating, heart broken hinata my baby, these also might be longer than the last two whoops. also can you tell i was angry while writing kenma's? ps thank you for 200 followers mwah<3

⟡ an: its that time again (waterparks ((fandom)) edition bc im obsessed)

⟡ part one, part two

⟡ hinata shoyo: never bloom again - waterparks

You and Hinata dated for four years from your first year of high school to your first year of university. Honestly, it could have been a lifelong relationship if it weren’t for Brazil. Hinata told you he was leaving the week after graduation. After telling you, you cried and yelled at him, pounding at his chest while crying ‘how could you do this to me?’ in between sobs but after a while, you had calmed down and you agreed to try a long distance relationship. Hinata visited you whenever he could, holidays, your birthdays, any reason to see you but it wasn’t enough for you. Hinata would always be everything to you but you couldn’t bear the fact that he was so far away, and sure you both called and texted each other but the time difference between Brazil and Japan made it difficult and Hinata could see it in your eyes whenever he visited, whenever you sent him a picture of yourself, whenever you facetimed…you were tired. It got to the point where you would cry yourself to sleep almost every night because you missed him and just wanted to be by his side, so with so much hesitation, you called him one night and told Hinata you couldn’t do this anymore. You needed him, not his texts, not his calls, no matter how much you loved them, you needed him physically there with you. Hinata protested and said that he wold move back to Japan for you but you couldn’t let him do that, you knew how important it was for him to be in Brazil to better his volleyball skills, so he finally gave in and you broke up after a year of long distance. Another year later, Hinata moved back to Japan after two years of being in Brazil, meaning he could see you again, he hoped so at least. Hinata didn’t know what you’ve been up to as you broke off communication with each other after the break up to avoid the pain of being in eachother’s lives. Hinata had his hopes up and was telling Yachi and Yamaguchi his plan to win you back but quickly had them crushed when they told him you had moved to Europe to finish university so you could start a new life. You didn’t want to be in Japan anymore, stuck with all the memories the both of you had made. It was too painful. Now it was Hinata’s turn. He was surrounded by the memories, everything reminded him of you, every now and then he’d see someone from across the street and see your face only for it to not be you, just some stranger. Hinata was never the same, even if he seemed happy and well, he was breaking inside constantly like he would never be truly happy again.

⟡ eita semi: worst - waterparks

You and Semi have been dating since middle school, practically inseparable. you and Semi were both in your 20s now and life has not stopped a single bit. The both of you were currently in the music industry, with Semi and his band being one of the biggest groups rising to stardom in the world and with you being a songwriter. You’ve always been a behind-the-scenes type person so you never really went out to parties or to big events. Semi, however, was a social person…at least on the party scene. It was a chance for him to let loose and not let worries get in his way, and who are you to take that away from him? The trust you and Semi had for eachother was strong, after all, you guys have been dating for years so why wouldn’t you? With this being the case, you never had any doubt about him going on tour without you. You still had other clients to write for so you couldn’t go with him but you never once worried about what he would do. That was until you were hanging out with your friends, Tendou and Ushijima, and they mentioned how Semi seemed different, that he seemed more careless and emotionless. You assured them that there was nothing different about him but when you went home that night you kept thinking about everything and looked back at how life has been since Semi has gained fame…he hadn’t changed. No. He was still the same Semi you fell in love with all those years ago. Sure he had questionable friends that made you uncomfortable, but he wasn’t like them, he always had girls lining up for a chance with him but he never gave them a chance…at least you think so. Regardless, you’re sure everything was fine and plus you were going to surprise him at his show in Tokyo! Any worry that you have will be wiped away when you see him all you had to do was wait. So you did. The day of the Tokyo show finally came up and you were standing at his dressing room doorway with tears in your eyes as you look at the sight in front of you- Semi and some random girl all over each other. Semi knew you were there, but he didn’t even care, all he did was give you a side glance before going back to the other girl. After that, you went home and changed all of the locks, removed all the pictures of him, blocked him on everything, and wrote a song that was sure to ruin his reputation out of anger, but even after all of that, you were still stuck with a giant hole in your heart and you don’t think it could ever be filled.

⟡ iwaizumi hajime: i felt younger when we met - waterparks

It all started four years ago when Iwaizumi moved to California for college. You both had known each other for 2 years prior to graduating and it was pretty obvious to other people that you two had a thing for each other but it wasn’t until after he had moved that either of you said something. Iwaizumi was the first to say he liked you, infact he said he loved you. It didn’t take long for your young and dumb self to transfer to where he was studying. You were both in love and naive so neither of you really thought about this big change in depth. The first two years of your relationship were perfect, you both got good grades, you had moved into a small apartment together, and you were both happy, you really couldn’t ask for more. Even though you and Iwaizumi were living the ideal love life, everyone else in your lives thought you guys rushed into things. The two of you weren’t even that close to begin with, you were just classmates in high school who had kiddie crushes on each other. It really all came down to the honeymoon phase, nothing was ever wrong and you never argued. It wasn’t until your third year of dating that you both realized that your life goals were very different from each other and this of course caused a ripple in your relationship. Wanting to be supportive of each other and your dreams, you set your goals aside for now and planned to come up with a compromise when the time called for it. Things were kind of back to normal until you both started learning more about one another. Bad habits you each had, sense of humor you didn’t share, different views, really whatever you could think of you both would disagree with one another and you were starting to get on eachother’s nerves. Iwaizumi reached the end of his rope quicker than you did. He ended things in the middle of a heated argument of something you can’t even remember because the only thing you were worried about at that moment was him packing up all of his things and walking out that apartment door but at the same time, you didn’t care. You had officially fallen out of love with him even though you never thought you could. Now whenever you think of him, all you could think about was how you uprooted your life for him. You moved across the world and for what? Nothing but anger and disgust filled you whenever you thought of all the moments you shared with him. To think of how different everything could have been if you two had just taken your time and not rushed into the relationship.

⟡ kozume kenma: easy to hate you - waterparks

Honestly, Kenma got on your nerves quite often. It was nothing you weren’t used to though because it was always simple things like him not doing the dishes whenever he was done eating or him spending too much time playing video games. Your annoyance never came from anything serious, just simple relationship stuff. When his streaming career started taking off, you never really bothered him to do anything around your shared house. It was only fair since it generated enough income for you to quit your part time job as a waitress and focus on school more. This doesn’t mean that it still didn’t annoy you that Kenma would seemingly spend more time playing video games than spending time with you whenever you had free time. Sometimes he would invite you onto stream so you two could ‘bond’ but it never felt right, to you it felt like you were more of a prop for his audience, like he would spend time with you only because his fansloved watching the two of you interact. Still, you brushed it off because it was still nice to be able to make him laugh whenever you did something silly in a game or said something funny. It also didn’t hurt that sometimes he would get all lovey dovey on camera making you swoon, even if it did feel fake at times. In the end, you thought it was the best you and Kenma could do considering the circumstances, you being in college and streaming being Kenma’s full time job. Kenma had promised you that once you winter break started, that he would put a hold on streaming so the both of you could spend time together and it excited you so it was only natural that you were pissed off when winter break finally came and Kenma said that he had sponsorships to deal with on stream. He said it isn’t something that could be helped but you snapped back saying that he could have scheduled these sponsored streams during any other time. Kenma didn’t care about what you said and just stayed in his streaming room for most of the two weeks. You started to ease a bit though once he started streaming for shorter amounts of times and spent more time with you during the day. You were finally happy with your relationship after who knows how long but then he decided that you being on a break from school would be the perfect time to do a 48 hour subathon. All you wanted was to spend time with your boyfriend but instead he just used you to gain more viewers. Again. Still, you agreed to do it agreeing that it would be fun but really yo had a plan. Three hours into the stream you said you have an announcement and everyone, including Kenma thought it would be something happy and big, but really, you were about to publicly dump him. After your little speech on how selfish Kenma actually was, you called one of your best friends to come pick you up and told Kenma that you would be back for your stuff the next day. You were finally free from the one-sided relationship you should have left sooner but now Kenma was rethinking all his choices as he scrolls through tweets talking about the breakup stream. At least it made him go viral.

[omiomi-kyun]

00:07 — unrequited

note: my mind's a bit messy atm. so, uh... yep.

details: angst; iwaizumi x reader; fantasy au; unrequited love; drabble :)

"we grew up together. i always have seen you more like a sibling than anything else."

you were rooted in place as soon as those words left his lips. everyone, including you, believed that you'll eventually be with him. your father and even your brother approved of your potential relationship with him.

he was even smiling during those discussions! so... what exactly is happening right now?

“please, accept my sicerest apologies if i made you misunderstood my feelings towards you. i apologize if i ever lead you on, but...” he sighed. “i already have someone in heart... and you can never replace her.”

“o-oh...” you replied, covering your lips as you let out a chuckle. “is that... is that so?”

tears began streaming down your cheeks. you tried to keep them from coming, but not even your gloved hand, nor the handkerchief could stop it.

“why am i like this? i... i'm happy for you! i'm truly happy for you but why... i need to smile...” you began to ramble like a madman.

iwaizumi stood in front of you, looking helpless as he could neither pull you close to him, nor console you with words. not when he's the reason behind your tear-stained cheeks.

“please call greta for me,” you told him with shaky voice. “she... she'll know what to do...”

his guilt tripled after hearing the name of your lady-in-waiting: the person who owns his affection from the first time they met—someone you trust.

“hajime?”

he took a breath before bowing his head deeply.

you stood there in confusion. until you recalled what you've said moments ago.

“oh... haha... hahaha!” your cackle echoed the empty hallway. he watched as you walk away from him.

“your highness...”

“you're dismissed.”

“your—”

“be well, young lord.”

his body stiffened before lowering his head towards your direction. “understood.”

not long after, a war broke out. leaving the castle in shambles and the long history of your family's bloodline was eradicated from the face of the kingdom.

or so they thought.

[satoruxx]

you fiddle with your nails as you walk home at tooru's side, the sounds of mattsun, makki, and iwa bickering further up ahead cutting through the empty streets. you’re uncharacteristically nervous, because god knows you’ve never done something like this before—but you steel yourself because it’s worth it for him.

your feelings for oikawa tooru are all consuming—strong and deep and intense. they’ve been brewing for well over two years now, nourished by the increased amount of time you’ve spent with him. they overwhelm you, washing over your being with an intensity you’ve never felt before, and they drive you to stick by his side for as long as you can—desperate and aching for the boy who puts the stars in your sky.

you know that timing is important because tooru is nothing if not driven—singularly focused on the sport that gives him the air he needs to breathe. so you wait until well after his match with karasuno, giving your all to support him and the rest of the team because volleyball has become important to you after spending so much time with them. you give it time, wait until after the team has taken the time to lament over their missed chance, and after all the third years are ready to move on to the next phase of their lives, before you finally decide to spill your guts to him.

tooru stares ahead as he’s walking, pensive and unsmiling, and you’re dying to know what’s going on in his head. his eyes are bright, a contrast to his expression, and there’s a resolute glint in his irises that has you feeling oddly shaken. when you reach his house, the rest of the group waves back at him before continuing on, and you realize this is your chance.

so, dangerously, you put your heart on the line.

you tell him everything you've ever thought about him—how you admire his drive and his passion, how you have looked up to him for years and years. how you have never felt so deeply for someone before knowing him. it comes out in a rushed ramble of words, all those nights of practicing in the mirror doing nothing for you in the actual moment. you stumble a few times, your face getting warmer with every word, and yet as each sentence falls forth you feel a weight lift from your shoulders—the flesh of your lungs clatter against your ribs, anxious and eager.

tooru inhales, gaze darting between your eyes and then flitting downwards. even in the dark of the night, you can see the pinkish hue crawling up his neck, can see the way he fidgets with his own fingers. he stares at you, lips parted as a wide array of emotions flit over his handsome features—they finally settle into a strange combination of apologetic and resigned.

and then he tells you no.

he tells you that volleyball will always take precedence, that he has already mapped out his future, which is too far away from you. he tells you about argentina and how his mind is made up. he tells you that he's flattered, that he's glad you're friends but that's all he can do right now.

“i'm sorry,” he says with a grimace. he studiously avoids looking at you, but you can't stop staring at him—your stomach sinks as he turns to head inside.

it takes you months to muster up the courage to tell him. it takes him two minutes to say no to you.

the rejection stings in a way that is unfamiliar, and you take a shaky breath as you walk down the street to catch up with the others.

the humiliation makes itself known in the form of a painful lump in your throat—unmoving and heavy. when you glance up you see that the third years have hung back, waiting for you. makki is wearing a knowing grin, but it falters when he sees your expression. mattsun, ever observant, seems to immediately understand, and he wordlessly slings an arm over your shoulder.

all you can do is awkwardly chuckle, knowing that it sounds weak and throaty as you shake your head. “i feel stupid,” you admit, voice wobbling as heat burns through your skin—unpleasant and unwelcome.

“you're not stupid,” makki mutters, hands shoved deep in his pockets as his lips slant regretfully. you stare at the ground, nodding slowly under the weight of mattsun's arm. your lungs ache, and you know that if you open your mouth, you will lose it entirely. so all you can manage to do is look up at iwa with glassy eyes and trembling lips and a rueful smile that probably makes you look as pathetic as you feel.

you don't notice the way his fists are clenched at his sides, nails digging indents into his palms. he grits his teeth, gaze flitting to oikawa's house in the background, but he doesn't say anything.

none of them speak as they walk you home, and you try your best to keep the sniffles to a minimum, too embarrassed to look at them.

you've never felt pain like this before, and it's hard to get over it because everything reminds you of tooru. it's like someone has taken a knife and carved into your ribcage, grasping your heart before taking it out crushing it between bloodied fingers. but even despite the gaping hole in your chest you know that there are expectations to be met, things to be done.

that's the strange thing about your silly unrequited love—it hurts and hurts and hurts some more until it stops one day before you can realize it. even though your chest is still bleeding you go on with life—you go to university, you get a job, you pay bills. you get up in the morning and brush your hair and drink water and tie your shoes until the wound closes itself up. you start smiling a little wider and laughing a little freer until oikawa tooru is nothing more than an old name.

and of course there are instances where you are reminded of him and what could've been, whether it's seeing milk bread in a supermarket or passing by children hitting a volleyball over a net out in the sun. you know very well that your friends are occasionally still in contact with their old captain, not that this bothers you. after all, mattsun, makki, and iwa were very careful not to bring him up around you, which you're grateful for. so even hearing the name in passing becomes easier.

it is difficult until it isn't anymore.

you've all but forgotten him now, after years and years and years—nothing more than a distant memory.

so imagine the sinking feeling of dread pooling in your stomach when you walk into the restaurant on makki's birthday and see oikawa tooru sitting at the bar, drink in hand. his eyes are alight as he laughs at whatever conversation he's joined, dark hair falling into his eyes messily.

one step forward, ten steps back.

for a second you can't help but stare, breath stolen from your lungs because it feels like the knife is back and twisting itself into your flesh all over again. there is a panic rising in your throat, suffocating and overwhelming and jarring.

tooru lifts his glass to his lips, hiding his grin as his gaze lazily travels over the expanse of the room.

another surge of panic. the familiar sting of humiliation.

he pauses as he's about to take a sip, brown eyes widening when they land on you, and you see the sharp inhale he takes. his stare doesn't waver, too consumed by shock to look away.

and yet that's all you can do—tear your eyes away because you're different now and it's long gone and you know there is no point in going down that rabbit hole again.

it was a lifetime ago—it's done now.

but you will never know how long tooru thought of you after that night back in high school. you will never know that he felt sick to his stomach when he saw the way your face fell at his rejection. you will never know that he bit his tongue so hard it bled as he watched you walk away from him. you will never know that he spent countless nights in argentina wondering what you were up to and how you were. you will never know that sacrificing you for his beloved sport was the hardest thing he's ever done.

so imagine the sinking feeling of dread tooru feels when he sees the way your eyes light up as you find your way over to iwa's side.

@teddybeartoji this is for you mickey ily hehehehehe

[bedcchem]

knight!iwaizumi who knows it’s so wrong to be feeling this way, to be doing this right now…

but he just can’t bring himself to stop.

“oh, god, princess,” he groans in your ear at the drag of his thick cock in and out of your tight, sopping pussy. his hands grip your plush thighs, his lips pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses against your neck, careful to not leave any marks on your skin.

you gasp, chills running down your spine as his hips roll into yours at a slow, deep pace. “oh, hajime—” you whisper in his ear, your voice soft and saccharine as your lips brush against his lobe.

everything about this is so wrong. you are to marry another man—a wealthy duke—in a week’s time to fulfill your role as the nation’s princess and future queen.

and yet… your heart belongs to another.

“i love you,” you softly whine, your eyes glazed with both pained and pleasured tears.

iwaizumi’s eyes squeeze closed as he feels so damn close… “fuck, princess, i love you too—” he chokes out, “more than anything in this world…”

it seems as if the world is getting smaller, where nothing else matters besides the two of you, pretending that you are not a princess and he is not your guardsman. pretending that this illicit affair couldn’t cost iwaizumi his position and, possibly, his life. pretending that this forbidden love will not taint you—where every other experience you’ll have will just pale in comparison to the way iwaizumi makes you feel…

“hajime—!” you softly cry out, your eyes squeezing shut as everything became so damn tight. and as you fall into the throes of ecstasy, iwaizumi cannot hold himself back any longer, letting out a reserved, strangled groan as he paints your insides a creamy white.

your knight shall always be there. he has sworn an oath to the crown to protect you with his life, his entire being. and even if you must marry another man, you know the true gentleman who has your heart.

the one who holds it in his rough, calloused, armored hands.

a/n: knight!iwaizumi has me in a chokehold istg

enjoy my masterlist!

mdni. do not copy, alter, or repost my work. ©bedcchem 2024.

[ilylovelyz]

⍣ ೋ after the break up (prt 2)

˚ �� . kenma kozume, iwaizumi hajime, tsukishima kei, ushijima wakatoshi & atsumu miya (prt 1.)

KENMA KOZUME — he feels really stupid. kenma does a lot after the breakup in order to distract himself. he buys more games, staying up until it's almost dawn. all of his attention goes into his video games and other devices that he completely stops taking care of himself subconsciously. it's only when he's lost almost 10 pounds is when he realizes how neglected he's become. it happened so fast it confuses him. why didn't you remind him to eat? or shower? oh.. right, it's because you broke up with him in the first place. still, he tries to forget. it's one night playing a game when he's dissociating randomly thinking about you does it all hit.

Super Mario Bro's plays in the background of his room. for once, his fingers are still but his eyes are locked on the pixilated screen in front of him. his eyes are red and dialted due to the bright screen contrasting to the dark dead of night. this game was very expensive, vintage and one of a kind—yet he's subconsciously stuck thinking about you.

did you know he thought about you so frequently? did you think the same of him? he drops the console, fishing his phone out from below him. his fingers tap on the keyboard, searching up your name into his contacts. he notices the last time you texted him was over a month ago. oh–, right. you broke up with him. right. kenma drops his phone back down, laying his face down into the same giant kirby plushie you bought him a long time ago.

a soft sniffle escapes through the thick material, mixing in with the almost taunting upbeat cartoon music.

IWAIZUMI HAJIME — your breakup was done on good terms. he was moving to the U.S., you were staying in Japan. neither of you knew the relationship wouldn't withstand such a long distance relationship so the relationship came to an end. the two of you still call and text over random things, but it's not like how things were before. time passes, and the two of you have less and less contact. iwaizumi is doing his weekly stalking of your Instagram when he realizes you've posted a photo of yourself.. but you aren't alone.

iwaizumi sighs with content when he's finally allowed to sit down, his legs sore from harsh muscle training. as always, he checks his phone. once he's finished going through his messages, ignoring almost everyone except his mom, he comes across your contact. the last you spoke with him was almost a year ago. he frowns, he wishes the two of you kept in contact, but you both were just so busy.

curiously, he indulges in his guilty pleasure and opens up instagram. as if on autopilot, he searches for your online handle. you both follow each other, but of course, never speak. he mindlessly scrolls through your highlights and posts, ending up on your most recent one. it's you. his heart flutters at the sight of you once more. even through a screen, you're still as beautiful as always. you're glowing and radiant as always.

his childish smile soon disappears when he realizes someone has their arm wrapped around you. a guy. a guy who is looking at you with the same loving look iwaizumi would give you long, long, ago. iwaizumi uninstalls the app shortly afterwards.

TSUKISHIMA KEI — he avoids you. he pretends you don't exist altogether. his heart cringes whenever he hears you around, regretting immensely when the two of you arranged your classes together in the previous year. it's childish. no, he's childish. especially because the breakup was more of his fault. still, he hides the fact that his heart is broken. he treats you like everybody else with such hate and bitterness, and only realizes how stupid he's being when it's too late.

"hey kei." you say, walking along aside the tall blonde. "do you want to work on the project together? sensei said that–," "i don't want to work with you." he says coldly. tsukishima doesn't even look to acknowledge you, staring straight forward as he walks. "o-oh, well i just y'know—" you stutter embarrassingly, "i just thought that because—" tsukishima finally stops in his tracks, swiftly turning to you, looking at you through clouded lenses.

"why do you keep on pestering me." his tone leaves you shocked. you can't even think of words to say, only able to let out incoherent stutters and mumbles. "all you do is stutter, it's annoying." tsukishima says nonchalantly, still looking at you with distain.

that seems to shut you up for now. tsukishima is relived when you do, if you talked to him anymore he probably would've accidentally spilled how he missed you. his relief is short lived when he sees the tears roll down your face and out of embarrassment, you quickly walk away from him. he's left standing still, gazing down at the floor. heart heavy and regretting.

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI — he thinks he's alright but he doesn't realize he's distraught. he continues on with his life like normal, seemingly at peace and happy with whatever he's doing. but, he does have to admit, he's been feeling a bit more.. confused? more like agitated. outside of his calm demeanor to untrained eyes, he seems perfectly normal. but, to those who are close with them, they can see what's actually going on in that seemingly perfect head of his.

hazel eyes watch closely as you walk past. ushijima awaits for you to come up to him like normal, talk to him and pester him with a million questions once more. he hated when you pestered him, he wished you were more quiet and reserved... or did he? he's not sure. because now you are walking away from him, not saying a single word. hell, you barely acknowledge his presence. how do you not? he's everything you said catches your eye, tall and muscular build, with a handsome perfect face.

"y/l/n." he rumbles out. the boom of his voice finally catches your attention, finally spinning around to acknowledge him. you seem defensive, like a cornered cat, a single eyebrow quirking up at his call. "..ushijima-san?" his heart, for some reason, sinks into his gut with the formality use of his name. what happened to toshi? for once, his words are stuck in his throat and he struggles to come up with something to say.

seeing that he's yet to say anything, you hurry out of his presence, trying to be released from the gaze of the man you are forbidden to love. meanwhile, ushijima is realizing for the first time, that maybe he lost someone who he isn't fine with leaving.

MIYA ATSUMU — he's like a pitiful dog. he plays off the break up like it's nothing, even to your face, he just shrugged his shoulders and mumbled something under his breath and walked away. despite the two of you dating for a year, going through so many things together, hell, he even lost his virginity to you, but he still acts like it was nothing.. but everyone can tell it's not. much to his annoyance, even his twin brother tells him to take it easy following the break up. but he's fine. it was nothing. he definitely doesn't search for you in the crowd during his games, nor does he get the random pang of forgetfullness after school as if he should be waiting for you. he's fine.

a girl comes up to atsumu after his game, batting her long eyelashes and pouting her lips. "can i get your number?" she asks, making her voice as smooth as possible. atsumu blinks at her with a blank face before turning his back to her, ignoring her entirely. he ignores her whines and curses of embarrassment, his eyes scanning the emptying crowd.

"shes not here, 'tsumu." he hears a familiar voice say. atsumu snaps his head back to the direction of the voice, seeing osamu standing there with his hands in his pockets, eyes low and unamused. atsumu scoffs at his brother, "yah i know." the two of them wait in silence, but for what? what is he waiting for? suddenly, his ears perk up at a familar body frame, eyes darting to the source only to be severally disappointed with the sight of a person who looks like you, but isn't you.

"let's go home, 'tsumu." osamu says, walking past the blonde haired man. atsumu waits a couple more seconds, taking another quick scan of the crowd before he's hestiantly following his brother, shoulders low and eyes to the ground.

please like and repost with tags

[cr4yolaas]

second best — iwaizumi hajime

part 2 here !

notes: based off of second best by laufey <3 hope u enjoy!

tags: fluff → angst, timeskip, insecurity / jealousy (reader), losing feelings (iwaizumi), swearing, best friend oikawa, arguments / yelling, iwaizumi is mean and delusional

it was a tuesday. school had ended a handful of hours ago, and you had no homework. the sun was setting quicker than it regularly did, coating your bedroom in a warm gold and casting rays of light upon your shoulders. hajime sat beside you, his laptop propped up on your table.

he bit his nails frantically (a habit you had always scolded him for) and repeatedly reloaded the page. “why won’t it just load…” he groaned, his brows furrowed and a scowl embedded on his lips. albeit his angered expression, he was more frightened than anything. that you knew.

“be patient, haji. you’re gonna break the keys,” you quipped, despite being just as anxious as him.

a new screen appeared with the eighty ninth refresh. in bold letters, congratulations! splayed itself onto hajime’s laptop, followed by an unnecessarily long message detailing his next steps. before you could react, the boy had thrown himself onto you, his arms tightening around your frame as he sobbed uncontrollably. his joy radiated.

“you- you did it!” you exclaimed, returning his hug. you nearly laughed at his face — tear-soaked, distraught, a far cry from the stoicism he wore. “i’m so proud of you, haji.”

he stumbled over his words as he struggled to regain his composure. the amalgamation of emotion was evident on his features; glee engraved itself on his cheeks, shock poured out of his eyes, excitement spilled from the cracks between his teeth. not once did he let go of you, as if fearful that he would face a different reality if he did so. “i know i’m going to be super far away, but- but promise me you’ll wait for me. please.” hajime held both of your hands in his. “i’ll make you proud, and then i’ll come back. okay?”

you beamed at him. “okay. i promise.”

hajime’s head rested on your shoulder, his grip on his store-bought onigiri loose — a tell-tale sign of his exhaustion.

the large LED clock on the wall read 5 am. he had stressed that he get to the airport as early as possible, seemingly prepared for the journey, and yet, here he lay, slumped against a plastic chair.

you took the food out of his hand and packed it into his carry-on, careful not to disturb his rest. he arose regardless. “shit,” he mumbled, clearly riddled with sleep. “what time is it?”

“you still have two hours until your flight, hajime,” you laughed. “relax. i wouldn’t let you be late.”

he muttered a lighthearted insult that didn’t quite make sense and leaned against you once more. a warm silence washed over you both before he spoke again. “i’m scared,” he whispered.

you didn’t look at him, in fear that you would get too emotional. instead, you fidgeted with his hand, your thumb ghosting over his calloused skin. “scared of what?”

“everything.”

“you know that’s not an answer, dumbass.”

he sighed. “i’m going to be leaving you all alone. not just you, but everyone i know. everything i know. and, who knows — what if things don’t go as planned?”

you hummed softly before responding, “that’s how growth is, haji. if you stay here, it’s unlikely that you’ll reach anything new. but if you go there — the college you’ve been dreaming about for ages — you’ll find new heights to reach. and i’ll be here for all of it. well, not physically, but you understand.”

hajime began to tremble against you. muffled cries escaped his lips, his grip on your hand tightening as the announcement for him to depart rung over the speakers. “i’m sorry, my love. i’ll come back for you, pinky promise.”

you finally looked at him — a mistake on your part. his anguish made your heart ache, and you began to mirror him almost instantly.

you helped him stand up and carry his bags to the line before placing a delicate kiss to his lips. “be safe, ha-“

hajime pulled you towards him and pressed his lips to yours, however, with far more desperation. the thud of his bag against the floor seemed to echo as his hands gripped your sides. he pulled away, his face comically tearful, before muttering an “i love you” against your forehead.

you waved him off as he boarded the plane, your heart sinking to the depths of your lungs, restricting your ability to breathe as you started to sob into your arms.

“so, this is my dorm…” a deep voice rung out from your phone. “all of my roommates are out right now, so i have the whole place to myself. anyways, look- i brought some of our polaroids and hung them above my desk.” hajime flipped his camera and slowly panned it across his wall, demonstrating various photographs hanging from a shelf.

“it’s super cute, haji. what else is there?”

he continued to show you around the living area and the kitchen, his excitement evident despite your inability to actually see his face.

while it was the midst of a bright afternoon where he was, sleep was creeping up on you, as you had stayed up late into the night to wait for this call. it had been several months since he had officially begun classes at UCI, but adjusting was reasonably difficult, giving him no time to sufficiently update you. but now, he had carved a little space into his schedule to “spend time with you” (as he called it).

“oh, by the way — i ran into ushijima wakatoshi here, y’know, the really tall one from shiratorizawa. it was pretty interesting. i didn’t really expect to see him there.” he continued to ramble on while you listened as intently as you could with your phone propped up on your table. your eyes were growing heavier, the words fading in and out. hajime’s exclamation roused you from your near slumber. “wait, it’s super late there right now, isn’t it? i’m so sorry, baby, i completely forgot. you’re probably really tired. umm, i’m not sure if i have time to call you tomorrow, but i’ll try my best.”

you mumbled softly, “it’s alright, i think i’m busy tomorrow anyways. i’ll see you soon.”

hajime smiled. “yes, i’ll see you soon.”

over the next couple of months, hajime had made time to keep in contact with you — between classes, during his part-time job, as he ate dinner — he was always sure to integrate you into his schedule.

you would be lying if you said you weren’t a little anxious.

oikawa laid across your bedroom floor, his glare etching holes into the ceiling. “he’s head-over-heels for you. i’m being serious! he has absolutely no reason to cheat, or anything of the sort. and if he did, i’d beat him up, obviously.” he spoke dramatically, as if what he was stating was common sense. and yet, you still found yourself worrisome.

“i guess, but- i’m sure it’s exhausting for him. he already works hard enough, so i can’t imagine how it is trying to balance his life over there with our relationship.” the brunette groaned at your fretting and launched himself up, his face now pointed towards yours.

his brows were tightly knit as he ranted, “if you were him, you would do anything you could to keep the relationship alive, wouldn’t you? because you’re so painstakingly, heartbreakingly, devastatingly in love with him, right? well, i’m telling you that’s what he’s doing right now! get your head on straight. you two were like, meant to be! so enough of your yapping!” despite his feigned anger, oikawa couldn’t wrap his head around your insecurities. did you not see how smitten hajime was? how, when your name was so much as mentioned in conversation, he became the liveliest person in the room, akin to a child talking about their favorite show? none of that changed, regardless of the distance. he wished you realized that.

you frowned. “sorry, i just- ugh.” you groaned into your palms, exasperated with your own worries. “it’s so stupid. i feel so stupid.”

your friend’s demeanor switched, and instead of aggressively reassuring you, he rubbed a gentle hand over your back. “he’s so, so, so in love with you. i promise.”

a month after that interaction, oikawa asked you to hang out with him — supposedly, the plan was to watch a movie since “no one else wanted to watch it with him,” and eat right after. however, this was not the road to the theater.

“tell me where we’re going, or i’m going to call the police on you for kidnapping me,” you half-joked.

“no!! it’s a surprise — and if i were really kidnapping you, would i let you keep your phone?”

feeding into your concerns, oikawa pulled into the airport parking lot, his movement growing increasingly frantic. “hurry!” he shouted at you while pulling you through the crowd.

at last, he stopped before a gate, the bold arrivals sign hanging above you both. “just wait,” he spoke, his eagerness clear.

as if on cue, a strong pair of arms wrapped themselves around you both, rendering you short-breathed. “haji?” you spoke on instinct.

“i- i’m home. i’m home, guys.” he beamed up at both of you with a smile that you had longed to see for what felt like centuries. oikawa was cast to the side as hajime threw himself onto you, seemingly unaware of the click of his friend’s camera from just a few feet away. “i missed you so much, baby, you don’t understand.” he peppered kisses across your face, painting you with a longing so heavy it weighed your whole body down.

“i missed you too, haji.”

oikawa drove you both to your apartment before leaving a gift for hajime and a smile for you. the moon sung into the wind and left you shivering, resulting in your boyfriend ushering you into the house.

“i didn’t prepare anything, i’m sorry,” you ranted. “oikawa didn’t tell me — he told me we were going to the movies. what a liar. i was kind of excited for it too.”

hajime laughed before walking around your home. he seemed to inspect every corner with a heart full of love and a face drenched with yearning, his dried fingertips ghosting over the furniture. “it’s so cozy in here. when did you move in?”

you hummed while looking into the pantry. “after my first year, they allowed me to live off campus. it’s really convenient. i’d say it’s like, a five minute walk to the station?” as you rambled, hajime wrapped his arms around you once more. “hey, i’m making you dinner. you didn’t eat yet, right?” he shook his head against your neck.

“i really, really, missed you,” he whispered against your skin before pulling away. “what are you making?”

you smiled up at him, a sight he had been waiting to see in person. “your favorite, of course.”

hajime told you he’d be over for the next month, as he was on spring break. the first week was spent celebrating with his friends and family — to begin, a party with his former team spent at a local restaurant.

“so,” oikawa begun, his face dusted pink as he held a bottle in his hand. “what have you been up to while you left us, iwa-chan?” the nickname made the man grimace, the memories it carried making him cringe. nonetheless, he continued.

“well, i’ve been training under this one trainer i’ve always looked up to. he’s taught me quite a bit, and i’m learning a lot every day. he works with the university’s varsity team, which is super awesome, and he used to play here in japan,” hajime ranted. “and i even met ushiwaka — super crazy, i know. it was like he was following me. oh, and- i’ve also met a few people there from my classes there that are super cool. look.” he pulled out his phone and showed a picture to the table, featuring him amongst a small group of friends. within them, one stood out the most. matsukawa was the first to call it out.

“holy shit, who’s that? the one on the right? she’s so pretty,” he spoke with slurred words, his face burning up with alcohol. the rest of the table leaned in to get a good view, murmurs of agreement ringing about. hajime looked beside him to see you stagnant, a slight furrow to your brow and an uncomfortable expression etched onto your face. he thumbed your hand under the table as if to provide you with solace.

“she’s in the same major as me, and she also came from japan. we met during class, and she introduced me to her friend group. it’s pretty cool, though — supposedly, she’s an understudy for an international team’s trainer,” he explained, noises of awe washing over the group. your face only grew more bitter.

you knew it was foolish to be jealous over something so minuscule. he was allowed to have friends — you weren’t so selfish as to rob him of that. but knowing that he was in the presence of someone so much greater than you made your head ache more than you had hoped. seeing him praise her so openly was akin to him piercing your ribcage. it was childish. you dared not to express such feelings to him.

when you got home, hajime splayed himself onto your bed without changing, his hand subconsciously gripping onto the hem of your sleeve as he drifted into sleep. you did not close your eyes as swiftly.

instead, you sat up, tracing the features on your boyfriend’s face and observing each intricacy. you did not want to lose this — to lose him. to think of such a thing frightened you; to experience it would be far worse. but would you blame him, if he chose the lustrous world across the sea over the dull life you presented to him?

you decided that you wouldn’t, for you knew the answer deep down.

“hajime,” you began. you poked at your food apprehensively. “you’re leaving next week, right?”

he swallowed a large bite before responding, “mm, yeah, possibly.”

“possibly?”

“well- you know the girl from my group at college? the one i showed you all at the dinner table. she’s been offered to attend an actual game with the coach that’s training her and asked if i wanted to come along. i think it’s a super great opportunity,” he explained with a careless tone about him. contrary to that, you were coated with dread.

your movements halted altogether. “…yes, that’s a wonderful opportunity hajime! it’s just-“ you stumbled over your speech, fearful of saying the wrong thing. you promised yourself not to be childish, and yet, you longed to be selfish just a little longer. “can you really not stay any longer?”

hajime sighed, and your chest ached with guilt. “i could, but- you know this is a chance that doesn’t come by very often, if at all. this could be the step that brings me to where i need to be.”

you picked at the skin of your fingers under the table. he was right. you knew he was. but it hurt to witness it; to witness him willingly choose another thing over you.

your greed got the best of you. “haji, you told me to wait for you. i waited for so, so long. but it feels like- it just feels like all that waiting was for nothing. it feels like you’re slipping out of my fingers already.” he groaned softly, just barely enough for you to hear, and ran a hear through his hair. “i’m sorry, i know it’s selfish, but can’t you just- why not stay a little longer? please?”

he carried his dishes to the sink, a heavy air hanging around him. “if you know it’s selfish, why do you keep pushing for it? you know this is something beyond important to me. i worked so hard to get here, to get so close to my dream. i don’t understand why i should turn down something that could very well be the turning point.”

you followed suit, desperate to mend the conversation you started. he was growing irritated, and it terrified you. you wished not to say anything too abrasive, but he seemingly did not have that restraint. “i’m not telling you to turn it down, haji. i just want to spend a little more time with you before i can’t have you for another- i don’t know, another year? maybe more? i- i’m sorry, i just-“

“stop. just- stop. i know you’re upset, but i need you to understand that i’d be even more upset if i missed this opportunity. why don’t you get it?”

“i do get it, i promise, but-“

“then act like it! because to me, it just seems like you don’t want me to go at all! if it were any other person than her who invited me, you wouldn’t have said anything! but because you’re so goddamned selfish, you keep fighting to keep me here, even though you’re the one who told me going overseas was the best thing i could do for myself! you- fuck! you told me this was how i’d reach new heights. and i’m showing you that i’m getting there, and i’m trying so hard to become someone you can be proud of, that everyone can be proud of, and it just feels like you’re shutting all of that down!” white-hot tears were flowing from his eyes as he yelled, his consciousness not picking up on your protective stance and your own tear-drenched cheeks and the apologies spilling from your lips. “fuck- i’m gonna pack my shit now. i’m sorry i yelled, but i’m leaving tomorrow. goodnight.”

you could not process him leaving for the bedroom door behind you, and you could not process the shutting of the door and the shuffling of his belongings. all you could do was fall to the floor and curl in on yourself, ashamed for creating the commotion you swore not to stir.

when you awoke the next morning, the other side of the bed was cold and folded neatly. the house was empty.

you stumbled out into the kitchen, looking around for any remnant of hajime — a note, a picture, a gift, anything, only to turn up empty-handed and instead bearing a pained heart. “haji?” you mumbled into the air with a watery voice. “haji, where are you?”

your body knew of his whereabouts before your mind did, causing you to kneel to the ground and sob. your whimpers were reminiscent of a dog crying for its owner, or a child whining for its parent.

he had left without so much as a goodbye. perhaps if you had been less demanding, less adamant that he stay just a little bit longer with you, he would have kissed you at his departure or left you something to remember him with. but the house was empty, just as it was before he arrived.

on the morning of his departure, long before the sun had crawled up onto the horizon, hajime went to oikawa’s place. he knocked on the door thrice before a disheveled man let him in. hajime apologized for his intrusion.

“why do you have your bags? why are you leaving so soon?” oikawa interrogated his friend before he could speak.

the other man scratched the back of his neck. “well, uh, i’m leaving early. that girl from my college, she offered to bring me with her to a training experience with her coach. i really wanna go.”

“what?” oikawa exclaimed dramatically, his eyes bulging out of his head. “did you- did you even explain this to them? what did they say?”

“i think i worded it wrong… they didn’t take very, uh, kindly to it, i guess. well- no, wait, they did, but i think i responded wrong. i just- i don’t know.”

the brunette scoffed before pacing around the living room with a burst of energy. “god, reasonably so! if i were them, hearing that you were ditching me for the person you haven’t stopped talking about this whole damn visit, i’d be furious! are you- are you insane?”

hajime shot up from his seat defensively. he looked at his friend with exasperation. “look, do you realize how important this is to me? why wouldn’t i go?” in response, oikawa stopped in his pacing. he rubbed his forehead in irritation, his gaze fixated to the floor.

“iwaizumi,” he spoke sternly. the formal tone brought the man to a halt. “you have to be honest with yourself. you haven’t seen your lover in like, forever, and you’re leaving them behind once again for a girl who just so happens to have connections-“

“connections that could get me places!”

“shut up! let me finish!” oikawa slammed his hands onto the table. “you have been lying to them this whole trip. they have been so kind as to wait for you, no matter how long it’d take. they stayed up night after night to call you and make sure you were doing well, to make sure you had eaten, to make sure you were still there. but you come here, and to me, it seems that all you want is what’s over there. i know these goals are important to you, and that you want to achieve them more anything. but have you never considered that maybe, just maybe, your own partner has been longing for you just as much?”

hajime could only scoff, so blinded by his aspirations that he could not bear to absorb oikawa’s words. “it’s selfish.”

“then maybe you should just leave. it’d be far more heartbreaking for them to stick with someone who can’t even appreciate them to an equal degree.”

weeks after his disappearance, hajime had yet to speak to you. he no longer called nor texted. evidently, you were an obstacle to his desires.

however, after a drunk night spent with oikawa, you received a text from his contact — one you couldn’t bear to delete.

can we call?

you scrambled up from the couch, oikawa jolting at your action. “what? what is it?” he peered over at the message, and in an instant, dread displayed itself onto his face. “are you gonna answer?”

you knew it’d be stupid to do so — he had left you without a word for dreams that were greater than you, and left you to pick up the pieces of a relationship that had consumed your very being for so long. but it was undeniably tempting.

after long deliberation, you nodded and opened the notification. oikawa watched anxiously.

“hello? this is, um- is this-”

“yes. it’s me,” you answered shakily. silently, you put the call on speaker.

“oh, great! i mean, uh- okay, hold on.” you could hear him breathe in before speaking again. “i know it was horribly wrong of me to leave without any contact. i just wanted to apologize for that, for everything. for not giving you what you deserved and needed at the time. i just- can we just talk for a bit?”

you slumped back onto the couch and oikawa followed after you. you weren’t in the right state of mind — the copious amount of alcohol you drank clouded your functionality, and yet, you knew that this chance wouldn’t ever come by again — it was foolish. “of course,” you responded. “how have you been?”

you both listened half-intently as he rambled on about his current life — how he was now working with a new coach, how he was getting closer to graduating, how he was planning on going to the japan national team as soon as he got the chance. he failed to leave out the mention of his girlfriend — his new girlfriend — thus exposing him and leaving you distraught.

stupidly, you were not angry. he seemed so excited; he was building a life that seemed to be getting better every day. who were you to oppose that? oikawa shook his head disapprovingly at your lack of response.

“anyways, um, how are you?” hajime asked. he sounded so youthful — it hurt far more than it should have.

you struggled to swallow your tears as you spoke. “i- i’m doing okay. i just, uh, got a new job, ‘nd i- sorry, i’m-“

his concern hurt more than anything. “are you alright? is everything okay?”

“i’m sorry, it’s- it’s really late here right now, and i’m exhausted. can we, um- can we speak another time?” you sniffled through your words, desperately hanging onto the last bits of a conversation you knew you were not strong enough to withstand.

“oh, okay, sure. sorry to bother you so late in the night. and, um, i… i’m sorry. for everything. really, i am. uh, sleep well.” he hung up before you could say anything more, leaving you to sob in oikawa’s arms as he unleashed a handful of tears himself, as if sharing your anguish.

to you, iwaizumi hajime was everything. to him, you were too far behind to keep up — you were his second best.

[hatsukeii]

hi to the 🐤

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

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

thank you for greeting duck the goose:)

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

bags / childhood bsf!iwaizumi hajime x reader

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

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

wc: 1834

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

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

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

“I’m fine! It’s all good!”

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

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

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

“You can carry your own, dumbass!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm not lying."

"Sure."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, hey, what are you doi-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I have the honour of being yours?”

“Fuck yeah you can!”

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

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

“Sure, Iwa.”

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

author's note:

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

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

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

anyways tags as usual:

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

ok love u guys bye bye

[iidrk3i]

☆ BUMP IN THE ROAD

hq -- kageyama tobio x gn!reader, iwaizumi hajime x gn!reader, kuroo tetsurou x gn!reader, oikawa tooru x gn!reader

summary: facing difficult challenges with your boyfriend.

warnings: angsty but comfort, slight food mentions (most of them are over dinner srry i was hungry😭), some crying

word count: 1.9k

✦ KAGEYAMA TOBIO. miscommunication

you knew that volleyball was important to your boyfriend. heck, everyone in school knew. at the start of the season, you were still able to see kageyama in between class periods and lunch break. but as the season went on, you noticed that it was becoming harder to see kageyama at school and outside of school. sometimes he would even skip lunch breaks to practice. it was clear that kageyama was dedicated to training and improving his skills. it was also clear that practicing 24/7 left him with little time for anything else.

you had patiently been waiting for an opportunity to spend quality time with kageyama. earlier today, you texted him and asked if he would like to come over and eat dinner with you. at first, you were left on read. you were worried to say the least. it's been around 2 since you've last spent time with him in person. as you were looking back at the previous messages between you and kageyama, there was a pattern with his texts. they've all been short and quick. around an hour later, you had gotten a notification that he had liked your message. taking that as a sign that he was on his way to your place, you had started to make his favorite meal, and as if on cue, there was a knock on the door.

“hey, tobio,” you greeted him with a soft smile as you opened the door.

“hey,” he mumbled, head tilted down as he swiftly walked in and took his shoes off.

those were the only words exchanged for a while. the both of you were sitting at your kitchen island, the only noise that was heard were the forks scraping against your plates.

“tobio?” you looked up at him. his hair was disheveled, eyebags evident on his face, and his eyes were empty.

"tobio?" you repeated softly, concern evnident in your voice. his demeanor was so different from the lively, determined kageyama you knew.

he glanced up briefly, meeting your gaze for a fleeting moment before his eyes dropped again. "sorry," he murmured, pushing his food around on his plate without much appetite.

you hesitated, unsure of how to approach the growing distance between you. "is everything okay?" you asked gently, reaching out to touch his hand.

he tensed slightly at your touch, pulling his hand away, as if a reflex. "i'm fine," he replied curtly, his tone cold.

the air between you thickened with tension. you knew kageyama well enough to recognize when something was bothering him, but getting him to open up was always a challenge.

"i... i missed you," you admitted quietly, hoping your vulnerability would help him speak his mind.

he sighed heavily, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. "i know," he said finally, his voice hinted with frustration. "i've just been... stressed. there's a lot ofpressure this season, and i feel like i'm letting everyone down if i don't keep improving."

you listened attentively, heart aching for the weight he carried on his shoulders. "you're not letting anyone down, tobio," you assured him gently. "we all see how hard you're working, and we're proud of you. but... i miss you too. i miss us."

he looked up at you then, sadness in his eyes. "i miss us too," he admitted quietly, remorse clear in his tone. "i'm sorry if i've been distant. i just... i want to be the best for the team, for myself."

you nodded understandingly, reaching out to hold his hand again, this time finding no resistance. "you don't have to do it alone, tobio," you murmured, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "we're here for you. i'm here for you."

he squeezed your hand back gratefully, a small, tired smile tugging at his lips. "thank you," he whispered, his voice laced with emotion.

—

✦ IWAIZUMI HAJIME. lies

iwaizumi had been acting unusually distant and preoccupied for the past few days, which hadn't gone unnoticed by you. despite your attempts to engage him in conversation or spend time together, iwaizumi seemed to be avoiding them, always coming up with excuses about extra training sessions or team meetings.

one evening, after a particularly long and tiring day for both of you, you decided to surprise him with dinner at his place. you had been looking forward to some quality time together, hoping it would give you guys a chance to reconnect. right as you arrived at his doorstep with bags of groceries in hand, you were surprised to find iwaizumi already home, looking visibly surprised and flustered at your unexpected visit.

"hey, haji," you greeted him with a smile, trying to ignore the tension in the air. "i thought i'd make us dinner tonight. i hope that's okay."

iwaizumi hesitated for a moment, glancing nervously towards the kitchen. "actually, um, i have plans with the team tonight," he replied, his voice sounding strained.

your smile faltered slightly, a disappointed expression creeping onto your face. "but you said you were free tonight," you pointed out gently, feeling a wave of hurt.

iwaizumi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "yeah, something came up last minute. it's important, i promise," he insisted, avoiding your gaze.

feeling a mix of frustration and confusion, you couldn't help but press further. "hajime, is everything okay? you've been distant lately, and now this..."

he looked torn, clearly struggling with his next words. "it's just... there's been a lot going on with the team. i didn't want to worry you," he finally admitted, his voice tinged with guilt.

your eyebrows furrowed. "so you lied to me?" you asked softly, hurt evident in your tone.

iwaizumi looked torn, realizing the weight of his actions. "i didn't mean to," he started, but you interrupted, your frustration bubbling over.

"you didn't mean to lie, or you didn't mean to hurt me?" you questioned, your voice going against you as it trembled slightly.

iwaizumi sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "i'm sorry," he apologized sincerely, meeting your gaze finally. "i didn't handle this well. i just... i didn't want to burden you with my problems."

you softened slightly, recognizing the sincerity in his apology. "i understand, but i want us to be honest with each other, hajime," you said firmly, your hurt still lingering.

he nodded, reaching out to gently touch your arm. "i know. i'll do better," he promised as he got up from where he was, and engulfed you in a hug.

—

✦ KUROO TETSUROU. past actions

kuroo had been unusually quiet all evening, a brooding intensity replaced his normally easy going demeanor. as you and your boyfriend sat across from each other at the dinner table, the tension in the air was obvious. you glanced up from your plate, sensing something was wrong.

"is everything okay, tetsu?" you asked tentatively, voice breaking the uneasy silence.

kuroo sighed heavily, setting down his fork with more force than necessary. "no, not really."

you furrowed your brows, concerned. "what’s wrong? you’ve been distant all day."

"that’s the thing," he began, tone tinged with frustration. "it’s not just today. i feel like we keep having the same issues, over and over again."

your heart sank as you realized what kuroo was referring to—the unresolved problems from your past arguments that always seemed to resurface. you knew you couldn't avoid this conversation any longer.

"i thought we had talked through most of those," you replied softly, trying to keep your voice steady.

"yeah, but it feels like we never really resolve anything," kuroo argued, his voice rising slightly. "remember that time we fought about—"

"don’t bring that up again, tetsu," you interrupted, frustration bubbling to the surface. "we settled that, didn't we?"

"but did we really?" kuroo shot back, his frustration now fully unleashed. "it’s like we just patch things up for the moment, and then it all comes back."

the argument escalated, both of you bringing up problems that had long been buried but never fully addressed. voices rose, words became sharper as each accusation hit closer to home. kuroo felt a pang of guilt for bringing up the past, but he couldn't shake the feeling of dissatisfaction that had been gnawing at him.

you fought back tears, feeling the weight of the unresolved issues crushing you. "i thought we were better than this," you choked out, voice trembling.

kuroo’s expression softened momentarily at the sight of your watery eyes, but his frustration lingered. "i do too, but how do we move forward if we can't even talk about this?"

the argument reached it's peak, both of you hurt and exhausted. kuroo sighed heavily once more, running a hand through his hair in frustration. you stared down at your plate, tears silently streaming down your face.

"i.. don't know," you finally whispered, the fight draining out.

kuroo’s heart sank at the defeated tone in your voice. he realized then how much you both needed to find a way to resolve your problems—not just for the sake of the relationship, but for your own peace of mind.

"i’m sorry," kuroo murmured, his voice barely audible. "i just... i want us to be okay."

you looked up, meeting kuroo’s eyes with a mix of sadness and longing.

"me too," you whispered back, a glimmer of hope flickering in your eyes.

—

✦ OIKAWA TOORU. jealousy and insecurities

oikawa had always been charismatic, charming, and surrounded by admirers—both on and off the court. you had always been supportive of his career and his popularity, but lately, found yourself struggling with a growing sense of insecurity.

one evening after a particularly intense match, you and oikawa were walking back to his apartment when a group of fangirls approached, giggling and asking for autographs. oikawa agreed with his usual friendly smile and playful banter, much to the delight of his fans. you stood slightly behind him, feeling invisible and increasingly uneasy.

as you finally entered oikawa’s apartment, you couldn't contain their feelings any longer. "tooru, can we talk for a moment?"

he turned towards you with a grin, still buzzing from the excitement of the match. "of course, what's on your mind?"

"it’s just..." you hesitated, unsure how to voice your feelings without sounding petty. "i feel like you don't notice how much attention you get from other girls."

oikawa’s expression shifted to confusion, his brows furrowing slightly. "what do you mean?"

you took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. iI mean... those fangirls. they’re always around you, and you're so nice to them, which is great! but sometimes, i feel... i feel like i’m not enough. like i can't compete with all those girls who adore you."

your boyfriend’s eyes widened as he finally understood your feelings. "y/n, i didn't realize you felt like this." he stepped closer, gently taking your face in his hands. "i appreciate my fans, but you... you're the most important person to me. no one compares to you."

you felt a rush of relief hearing oikawa’s reassuring words, but the insecurities still lingered. "i know, but sometimes it's hard not to feel jealous."

oikawa nodded, his expression softening with understanding. "i get it now. i’m sorry if I made you feel that way. i’ll try to be more aware of how my interactions might affect you."

you hugged him gratefully, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. "thank you, tooru. i needed to hear that."

he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "i’m here for you, always. don’t hesitate to tell me when something's bothering you."

a/n: i was listening to champagne coast while writing these

[warlocksoup]

── .✦ FULL: IWAIZUMI HAJIME ── .✦

CHAPTER ONE: walls

Iwaizumi doesn’t get what she sees in him.

Akaashi’s leaning up against the doorframe of her bedroom, like he’s supervising, trying to make sure Iwaizumi’s not doing anything unsavory as he stuffs a duffel bag full of whatever clothes he can find in her drawers and random selections of toiletries.

As if it’s not entirely Akaashi’s fault he has to be here in the first place.

“You should grab her blanket too,” Akaashi says, arms crossed over his chest and expression neutral. “The small blue one. She sleeps with it every night.”

Iwaizumi halts in front of her dresser, turning briefly to glare. God, he really wants to fucking hit him. “Yeah, thanks man.”

She didn’t ask him to be here. Iwaizumi is here entirely on his own. He was watching her pull another one of his shirts over her head when he suggested stopping by her place to grab a few of her things for her. Even though, selfishly, he wanted her walking around campus with his t-shirt under her jacket, covered in the smell of his soap, practically advertising to anyone around her that is his place she’s crashing at. That it’s him who’s taking care of it her.

He figured it’d be better for her, though, to walk around in something of her own. And that's what's most important, anyways.

He’s just shoving whatever he can grab haphazardly into his bag, with little regard as to what it is or the state that it’s in. He feels bad, sort of, for the way he crinkles up her shirt in his fist and balls it up, making it as small as he can to make it fit. But he just wants to get the fuck out of there, away from the flat, dry stare of Akaashi.

He drops the bag on the edge of her bed. From the corner of his eye, folded up by her pillows, he sees it, the little blue blanket. He bites down on the inside of his cheek as he grabs it and places it neatly on the pile of clothes he’s amassed.

“Is she really this mad at me?” Akaashi questions, taking a step inside of her bedroom as Iwaizumi tugs at the zipper.

Iwaizumi stops, and turns to look at Akaashi, trying his best not to grind his teeth together. “Why do you care?” Iwaizumi says, unable to contain the slowly boiling anger that’s been brewing since the second she showed back up at his doorstep. “Thought she disgusted you.”

Akaashi doesn’t give anything away with his expression. It’s as flat and disinterested as it usually is, and Iwaizumi thinks that maybe his enthusiasm is what really turned her off of him. That if he were as disapproving and indifferent as Akaashi, maybe she’d be in love with him too.

It’s silent. Apparently Akaashi has nothing to say to him.

Iwaizumi grabs the strap of his shoulder and slings it over his shoulder. “She’s not mad at you. She’s humiliated.”

He goes to move past him, and finally get the fuck out of there, but Akaashi grabs at his arm on the way out. Iwaizumi stops, and jerks away from him in a way that makes Akaashi take one large step back. “I’m sorry, just,” he starts, and then sighs, “do you think maybe you could ask her to talk to me? Maybe return a call or something?”

Iwaizumi glares. “No,” he says firmly, and turns his back on him, heading straight for the same front door she stormed out of.

⋆⭒˚.⋆ 

“I don’t like her.”

Iwaizumi is refolding her clothes, taking them out piece by piece, and meticulously smoothing them out. He’s made some space in his dresser, and he wants it full before she gets back. On his bed, he’s got a pile for jeans, one for sweaters, one for shirts, and a pile of her socks.

He’s using one loose sock to hit Oikawa in the arm when he flops across the neatly spaced-out piles. “Get up,” Iwaizumi instructs, and Oikawa does so at once, but not without an eyeroll. “And everyone hates her right now. She doesn’t need it from you.”

She cried about it last night in his bed, and tried to act like she didn’t. But Iwaizumi’s pretty in-tuned with her, at this point. He knows what it means when she looks down at a notification on her phone and her smile becomes forced and unnatural. He knows what it means when her breathing quickens up, and then slows down forcefully, like she’s doing her best to control it.

She doesn’t like telling him about it, anymore. Now she’s got this fear of inconveniencing him. She started referring to herself as a burden, and makes herself small, trying to take up the least amount of space in his apartment as possible. Most of her time is spent in the campus library, and she won’t listen to Iwaizumi when he tells her that his space is hers, and she doesn’t have to feel bad for being there.

But she does, anyways. Probably because of his fucking roommate.

Oikawa flops back into Iwaizumi’s desk chair. “Everyone hates her for some stupid reason. Mine is valid.”

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi grumbles, “I’m sure it is.”

“All she does is use you,” Oikawa tells him, and it’s not for the first time. “She just leads you on, over and over, and you just let her.”

Iwaizumi teeth grind together, and he smooths out the legs on a pair of her jeans. The truth bothers him. He doesn’t mind admitting it quietly to himself. It’s something else entirely to have it pointed out to him, like it’s something so obvious, like it’s not a secret he keeps. “I don’t have any expectations from her. She just needs one person who’s still on her side.”

“And it has to be you?” Oikawa questions with a raised brow.

“Who else is it gonna be? You?” Iwaizumi snaps back. Oikawa scoffs. “I’m just saying. Don’t have to kick her while she’s down.”

“Whatever,” Oikawa replies, and stands on his feet. “I’ll leave you to being pussy-whipped, I guess.”

Iwaizumi watches with narrowed eyes as Oikawa leaves his bedroom, and he wishes he had something to throw at him.

⋆⭒˚.⋆ 

At night, she stays in his bed. She tried to stay on the couch, at first, but Iwaizumi wouldn’t let her. He said he’d stay out there, to make her more comfortable, but she wouldn’t let him. So she takes the left side, and he takes the right.

They start off with a gap between them, both of them lying flat on their backs, staring up at the ceiling. And then, as the night goes on, as sleep starts to overtake them, inch by inch, they get closer. Her rolling on her side. Iwaizumi shuffling closer. Their fingers brushing together. Their legs tangling. Closer and closer, all through the night, until they wake up the next morning, and Iwaizumi is cradling her to his chest.

Iwaizumi’s never really been able to stay away from her. He always finds his way back to her: sneaking out of a party early to knock on her front door, double texting her when he’s met with silence, rearranging plans, just so he could see her one more time.

And Iwaizumi always figured it was his availability that drew her to him. That his desperation for her was his most appealing quality, and that if, even for a second, that desperation started to slip, and that availability closed up, she wouldn’t have a problem crawling over to the next person. She could always just find another warm body to want her.

But she moves closer to. Iwaizumi lays awake, and watches as she pushes herself closer to him, until her forehead is nuzzled against his collarbone. She always moves closer.

He can’t tell if she’s asleep or not. He raises a hand and rests it on the crown of her head. She was gone all day. She brought takeout home with her, and they ate it in the kitchen together, their knees brushing together under the table. Iwaizumi listened to her talk about her essay on Kyivan Rus, and then she asked about his physiology course. They stood next to each other in the bathroom as they brushed their teeth, stealing glances at each other through the mirror. Iwaizumi packed up her leftovers and put them in the fridge while she showered.

She hums a little in her sleep. It all feels unfamiliar.

Iwaizumi told her not to worry about him, that he knows what he is to her. Her eyelashes tickle his skin. Maybe, he figures, he can talk to her about it in the morning,

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[heartmaddie]

magnolias, | h.iwaizumi

01; harvest moon

[104 / WHEN WE WERE STRANGERS] recommended song; Harvest Moon

July and August were the most unbearable. 

Heat would crawl up his back and gnaw into his bones, sweat would drip from tan skin, and this unmistakable plague of exhaustion would overwhelm his head. With enervation, his hands squished dirty clothes into the communal washing machines. He hated Tokyo, the humid weather rattled with his head, making each task feel an unmeasurable amount more laborious. 

A trail of soft taps against the wooden floor caught his attention. Curiously, he glanced behind him. 

Iwaizumi had never seen this girl before, clad in a white tank top and black shorts that just reached her mid-thigh. He recognised the melody of the piece she’s humming before he recognised her. Regardless, he noticed the stark smell of incense and tobacco that lingered outside the open door of his neighbour’s apartment waft around her.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, pushing past him while clutching a laundry basket. 

She looked concentrated, Iwaizumi lets his gaze travel down the curvature of her slender neck, taking a moment to admire the silver jewellery which it adorned. Something about her demeanour pulled him towards her, words died on his tongue.

She methodically dumped wet clothes into the hamper before standing up and shutting the washing machine door with her sock-clothed foot. The cicadas of summer nights conversed between them, and Iwaizumi couldn’t keep his eyes away from her. 

His gaze followed her with intrigue, watching as she travelled up the stairs with her overflowing basket before slamming the laundry machine shut himself. Perhaps an omnipresent figure noticed the shift in his attention, because as his sight broke from her, the unmistakable grief of cracked plastic rattled through the air, followed by an avalanche of clothes falling down wooden staircases.

A curse fell from pink lips, he looked towards her.

“You alright?” His neck craned to find her, picking up stray pieces of clothes and holding them tightly against her chest.

“I’m fine.” She muttered back, arms already full with half the pile still draped along the steps. Iwaizumi let out a soft chuckle, offering his basket with open arms.

Her small, obligatory smile engulfed him, his heart beat faster.

“Thank you, I’ll bring it back once I’ve hung everything up.” She reached for the basket and Iwaizumi practically lurched backwards, almost toppling down the stairs in the process.

“You’re alright, I’ll carry it up for you.” Iwaizumi offered her a small smile, lips widening ever so slightly once she returns it once again, more genuine than before. “Which flat are you?”

“102.” She replied absentmindedly, stuffing more clothes into the basket held tightly across the wide expanse of his sweat embellished chest.

“102?” He feigned surprise. Of course, he already figured this out. “I live in 103.” He liked how that catches her attention, unbothered eyes trailing back towards him, furrowing almost endearingly.

“103,” She muttered quietly, almost confused. She let out a small hum, as if in deep thought. “I didn’t think anybody lived there.”

An awkward silence settled between the two of them, her attention scattered from him, clustering to her phone as pearly teeth sank into pigmented skin. Iwaizumi’s eyes trailed reverently over her, almost breathless from the heat, but something else. 

Her skin glowed pearlescent from the thin sheen of moisture painting skin, chest rising and falling faster than usual as a method to circulate cool air. Minutes passed, and he tore his gaze away from her, eyes flickering towards the top of the wooden stairs.

“'Scuse me,” Iwaizumi uttered as he pushed past her. Arms brushed past each other, and he could’ve sworn that something in those milliseconds transpired. Their eyes locked once again, he swallowed the lump which had gathered in his throat. 

His footsteps were heavy, the staircase creaked under him and the immense weight of the hamper. She shadowed behind him with short, manicured fingernails hovering over the cracked glass of her cellphone, teeth dug into pillowy roseate gums. 

“Chamomile?” her voice rung through his head like drizzled honey on fresh, warm bread. “Or I have honey ginger and Valerian instead.”

Iwaizumi’s flat was a simple, white four wall hollow block with a small door leading to his bedroom. Sound travelled far in his living space, echoing through the emptiness. 

He had never bothered to decorate the apartment further than the coffee table, couch and houseplant which was gifted by his mother once he had settled in. It was desolate and somewhat miserable, streams of dispersed morning light through linen curtains the only promising aspect of the building. Otherwise, a room with a dim light and nothing else.

He was immediately overwhelmed by the scent of incense, which deluged his body once he took a step into her apartment. Her bedroom was anything but empty. Walls decorated with variable posters, each pressed in with thumbtacks. 

Music played throughout her home, making it seem almost lively in its lonesome. It was colourful, piano tucked neatly towards the back of the main area, various sheet music and miscellaneous paper surrounding it. 

“Sorry, you said something?” He was broken from his second long trance, viridian fell upon her once again.

“Tea, I asked if you wanted tea.” she leant against the wall, arms crossed as he placed the basket down with care. Iwaizumi took the sliver of a second to admire her under warm light, the silhouette of thin eyelashes illustrated on plump cheeks, his heart hummed.

“Valerian, please.” His eyes descried across her cluttered, but somewhat organised apartment, taking note of every item and photo frame which decorated the room. She was well travelled, souvenir magnets stuck to the fridge and glued there with age. He wondered how long she’d lived here for.

The boiling tea nearly burnt his fingertips, the liquid trailed down his esophagus and left a burning sensation behind, only heightened by the humid weather. She sipped with ease, placing it on the marble counter top before looking up at him again.

It was silent.

“So, you play the piano?” He asked, looking down at her with a faux apathetic expression. In reality, he was clawing at every word which fell from cotton lips, soaking each syllable up as if it were glucose. 

“Mhm,” To Iwaizumi, each sound which fell from her were almost reverent. “That, and I wanna start composing too.”

He nods, eyes flickering between her and the piano.

“I remember you used to play Harvest Moon a lot, it became my favourite song.” He didn’t realise how strange that sounded until hours later.

She chuckled lightly, bringing the ornate teacup to her lips once again before teeth tugged at the wet skin,

“Yeah, I haven’t played it in a while.”

Iwaizumi’s lips twisted upwards, teeth digging into his gums as he placed the china into her sink, careful to not let porcelain shatter.

After a couple of moments of quietude passed, Iwaizumi let out a soft sigh and stretched out his back. He didn’t want to leave, but all things end eventually.

“I think I’ll take my leave now, then.” He didn’t miss how she looked up at him, almost surprised for a second.

“I’ll walk you out… Iwaizumi, is it?”

“Haji is fine.”

-

Iwaizumi settled in bed with an almost aerate feeling in his chest, unfamiliar to him. Thin, blue sheets covered his body, cold air blaring at his face as he sighed deeply.

His body relaxed even further once the familiar sound of keys echoed through their shared wall, the chords soothed him in an inexplicable way.

He recognised the sound almost immediately, lips tugging into a tired grin.

(come a little bit closer, hear what i have to say)

It was cold in his bedroom, for the first time in a while. His body melted into the thick mattress, tanned skin curling up against each other as his eyes closed.

(when we were strangers, i watched you from afar)

The moon shone down on his bedroom, the luminescence making everything seem more palatial than it truly was. 

(because i’m still in love with you, i want to see you dance again)

His dreams conjured nothing but her, his fingers running down the expanse of her clothed spine, tugging her close. Hajime felt almost content, her skin felt like glazed gold rubbing against him, he let out a deep, assuaged sigh, at peace with himself. 

Their organs were one, tied and wrapped around each other as if ivy.

a/n; 'do u want tea' 'milk is fine😊😊'. hi guys..... ok i'm lowkey excited for this to get like 6 likes because it's nawt pde and no one cares.... also thank u to my lovely lovely friends kamey and dee for hand holding me thru this whole chap bc i could NOT have done it without them. kamey is proofreading as we speak and dee is workig idk i've bothered them both ENOUGH. ok dee is proofreading too i suppose idk. its 5am idk why i wrote this so late that's why the ending is bad and kinda cringe cos i wanted to GO TO SLEEP. amnyways be aware that the next time i update this is in 2 months because thi chapter was so HARD to write. i want to kiss every author that writes 1k+ words quickly (meeya) because jesus christ it took me 4 hours to write 100. i can hear the birds singing am i cooked. ok i'm gts now bye. i lied they are both still proofreading and i'm getting nervous! did u know i hate sharing my work i feel really naked ab it and stuff LOOL. okkkk jesus christ i need a new job.

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(12/50)

[haikyu-mp4]

Gorgeous – Oikawa x reader wc 410 – f!reader, angst

In your second year of high school, you were approached by a tall guy who wanted you to be a manager for the volleyball team. You thought he was gorgeous – the kind of guy who would check all the boxes of a magazine, make even a grown woman do a double take on the street and make you reconsider your interests.

Unfortunately, you had no interest in joining another club when you already enjoyed the one you were in, but you were convinced to watch their games. Oikawa knew he was just as gorgeous under the court lights, and it showed.

Learning the rules of volleyball came gradually, and you kept going to the games very regularly, learning the Aoba Johsai chant so you could cheer along.

Oikawa noticed you. Every time, he would find you in the crowd and send you a short wave. Not an overly posed peace sign or a flirtatious wink, just a wave. Then he started finding you in school, showing you every hiding place he knew because he just couldn’t stay away.

“I won't be around after high school,” he informed you one time when you were leaning against him in a broom closet.

“Good. I’m proud of you.” You sighed, lifting your head from his chest to find the chocolate swirls in his eyes. “Would be a pain to fall in love with you now, wouldn’t it?” you whispered while affectionately tucking some of his hair behind his ear. He leaned into your touch, eyes moving away with guilt, just like he would a few weeks after graduation.

Even when you graduated a year later, your gorgeous high school sweetheart was the one who got away. The one who got Argentinian citizenship and recently sent you his monthly update with a picture of the certificate, a silent warning that he wouldn’t come home. Not to you at least. So you start moving on.

Then in ten years, when he’s nearing retirement age and asked more frequently what plans he has for that time of his life, he catches himself thinking about you. You and your husband, Iwaizumi, found each other in your loss of a great friend and recently announced that you were pregnant with your first child.

“I hope to find my peace,” he’ll answer the interviewers cryptically, avoiding any incantation of the word love. Because how can love ever feel the same when it’s not your hand running through his hair?

masterlist

[fushiguruuzzzz]

ROOMATE!IWAIZUMI loves the way your face looks when you come home from work and find him lounging shirtless in your kitchen. Yeah… mhm..

It was an innocent action at first, holding no intention of watching the way you flushed a deep red as your eyes trailed down his skin, shining with a thin layer of sweat—he’d only just got back from work. Being an athletic trainer requires a lot of movement, he tells you. Only arriving home himself a few minutes ago, he, by first instinct (conveniently forgetting about the existence of his cute roommate in the process), peeled off the garment and freed himself of the suffocation. His muscles tense, a subtle reminder of the long day he’s lived. You wondered if he guided his clients as he told them what to do, how his rough hands felt ghosting over their skin as he adjusted them–

“You alright?” he asked after a moment of basking in your clouded gaze. He knew fully well that you were, in fact, not alright. Nothing gave him away but the slight curl of his lips, and maybe the flush of his cheeks, but he swears that’s just from being tired. Not because his skin alights as your eyes swipe over it. No, he likes that a completely normal, platonic amount. But then he’s smirking and leaning against the counter, a glint of mischief in his eyes, and you both know there’s a shift. You almost dropped dead right there, and Iwaizumi knew he’d gladly be the grim reaper if it meant sticking with you to the afterlife. And maybe teasing you. That was optional.

Can you guys feel her lurking I can feel her. I’m scared. @sahrii

[thisisxli]

hihi can i request a fic of iwaizumi x reader some type of angst to fluff like reader is a foreigner and she overhears iwaizumi making fun of her or her accent just to hide that he likes her?

REQUEST - 𝐈𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐳𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐇. 𝐱 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐧 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Rs: Iwaizumi Hajime x foreign Fem!Reader

Warning: angst, betrayal, a BUNCH of shit-talking, racism, bullying(kind of), mentions of insecurities, ghosting

Tags: fluff, shy iwaizumi, bright reader, oikawa tooru is a little shit, reader is a independent baddie, small slow burn, friends to lovers, iwaizumi is shitty with feelings

Summary: Iwaizumi whom hasn't had any experience with anyone develops a crush for the new foreign girl. He comes down to the decision to save his reputation or to be with you.

wc: 3.1k

recommended song(s) :

"(L/N) (Y/N), thank you for having me," you smile and bow at waist-level, sitting back in your seat. You don't think much of it when you hear the whispers of other students around you.

"She has such a thick accent.. I swear I'm not trying to judge buttt-" Matsukawa quickly cuts Oikawa off, crossing his arms over his chest, "isn't that a little racist, Oikawa?" He smirks at the pouting boy. Their group continues to ramble on about you until you enter the hallway. Some even stop to look at you.

Iwaizumi literally freezes in his spot, stealing his entire attention. He watches you walk past his group with a worried expression and here he thinks that you're super cute. Sure, you weren't Japanese but hey.. That doesn't mean that can stop him from liking you, surely. "Oh, oops! Sorry, can I uh- can I get through?" The volleyball group turn to look at you, shock ridden all over their faces. Without a word, they oblige and let you through. And of course, your locker was right next to Iwaizumi's. He was screaming inside his brain but no one knew that.

You were starting to get scared because of how this boy was staring at you right now. Your hands start to become hesitant when you pick out a notebook from your locker, eyes awkwardly darting back to him and your locker from the side, "um, can I help you?" Iwaizumi blinks at you, looking up to his teammates who held confused and amused expressions. He quickly shakes his head and looks back to you, "y-yeah, sorry. Uh.." Well. How awkward, you both think.

"(L/N)," you speak for him before quickly going on alert, "actually you don't have to call me by my-" you think to yourself for a few seconds, "surname. Just call me by my first, (Y/N)!" You awkwardly laugh, shutting your locker door. The group of boys raise a brow at you and start to snicker, some even starting to whisper in each other's ears. Iwaizumi slightly frowns when he sees this. You notice it all, shoulders slightly slumping. "Yeah.. (Y/N). I'm Iwaizumi Hajime, you can jus' call me.. Iwa, I guess," he mutters, straightening out his volleyball jacket. You quickly nod, bidding each other farewell till you walked off.

Iwaizumi avoids the stare of his teammates, turning around to open his locker. "What was THAT?!" Oikawa practically jumps on him, leaning his arms against the bulky boy's shoulder. He shrugs him off, "nothing. What's your problem?" Oikawa snorts in disbelief, waving off the few nagging girls surrounding his teammates. "My problem is that you seen like you like her! And even maybe," Oikawa points an accusing finger extending out and inwards at Iwaizumi, "maybe you'll even plot on getting with-" he quickly gets cut off with a hard slap to the head, Iwaizumi shuts his locker and walks off to his next class with pink ears. "Yeah, as if."

Turns out.. you both had the same class. And you both sat next to each other.. Just his luck, huh? Was it god doing this to him? What fate had brought you two constantly together after your first interaction?

"Iwa?" He just didn't get it. Why was your locker besides his? Stupid foreign girl couldn't ignore his stupid staring. "Iwa?" Now he has to hear shit from Oikawa. Maybe even Matsukawa and Hanamaki.. It pisses him off at the thought. "Iwa?" He turns his head to the voice calling out his name, glaring hard. You blink at him, faltering under his stare. His face quickly turns back to normal, shoulders relaxing, "yeah? Sorry." You chuckle, tucking a few hair strands behind your ear. Woah, he thinks. "It's okay, it seemed like you were pretty distracted so... But I wanted to ask you if you maybe wanted to be.." He raises a brow when you scrunch your face as if you were afraid of his answer, "partners for our project?" You squeak out. He tilts his head at you. What did you say? "I'm sorry, can you repeat that?"

You fiddle with your bracelet, "do you want to be partners?" You say a little too formally. He makes an 'oh' shape with his mouth before nodding, rubbing the back of his head. After that, you both continued with the rest of class and headed to your next one. But just before you did- you got his number, of course. Iwaizumi was almost flustered. It was unexpected and weird, usually girls went to Oikawa for this kind of stuff- except, you did this for your shared project.

Iwaizumi wipes his damp cheeks with his towel, taking a sip from his water bottle when he takes a quick scroll through the phone, nearly choking on water when he sees your contact name. Oikawa's head turns to Iwaizumi in curiousity.

(Y/N) :)

Hey! (Y/N) here. I wanted to ask how you wanted to start out the project.

5:26 PM

Iwaizumi quickly looks around before turning his full attention on his phone, trembling thick thumbs dashing across his keyboard.

Iwa H.

Oh, it's no prob. Maybe we could make a slideshow about it, idrk. Your choice?

5:27 PM

(Y/N) :)

Oh yeah! I completely agree. Just let me know when we can start working on it. If you can, you can come over to my place or I come over to yours? Or if not, a library of course.

Boy do you type a lot. He makes a face and cocks a brow but he says nothing of it, going back to typing.

Iwa H.

I could ask. Just see if your parents are okay with it. I'll tell you the time and everything if I'm able to go.

5:28 PM

(Y/N) :)

Okay!

READ 5:28 PM

Iwaizumi sighs heavily, sliding the sweat drenched towel off his neck as he hears a ding come from his phone. He looks back at his phone and sees you text.. some kind of an emoji? What was that? He makes a confused face.

(Y/N) :)

Okay!

(≧∇≦)/

READ 5:29 PM

He purses his lips together and reacts to your 'emoji' with a thumbs up. "So we exchanging numbers with the foreign exchanged student now?" Oikawa's voice calls out by his ear. Iwaizumi jerks back and quickly swings a punch toward the brunette but he quickly ducks back, a huge pout on his lips. "Iwa-Chan! You could've hit me!" Iwaizumi walks over to the locker rooms where the rest of the boys were, Oikawa following not too short from behind.

"Tell me, tell me? When d'ya exchange phone numbers?" Oikawa perks up behind Iwaizumi's shoulder before getting his nose elbowed by him. "Oh? Iwaizumi's gettin' bitches now?" Hanamaki walks over, sliding on his shirt. "I bet'chya it's that new foreign student," Matsukawa laughs, catching the attention of his other volleyball teammates. "The one with the weird accent?" Kindaichi suggests. "The new bug-eyed girl?" "The ugly person?" "There's a foreign student?-" "she sounds weird-" "cute for a foreign girl-"

"Alright! Shut up!" Iwaizumi turns to glare back at his teammates who were silenced. He slips off his shirt, folding it and putting in his bag before attempting to find his other spare. "She's jus' nobody alright?! Me and her are partners for this project, don't get your dicks so pent up in a twist," Iwaizumi grunts at his teammates, slipping his spare shirt on. "So chill the fuck out," he huffs while Oikawa comes up from behind, patting his back. "Hey, we're just joking, Iwa-Chan. It's all good," Oikawa smirks at him and he just sighs.

Joking his ass.

Iwaizumi started to be around you more and talking to you more. The more you were around, the more stares he got. Even his teammates would say some slick shit, no matter how many times he would console them. He seriously didn't want this. He didn't want to deal with it. Fuck, he had to do something.

You were rambling off, standing next to him in front of your lockers as he listened. Or at least he tried listening. He couldn't listen when all these people were staring and whispering behind your back. This seriously gave him a bad look. The school bell rings and you chirp, "looks like class is starting! see-ya, Iwa!" You start to walk away and wave back energetically to the boy who weakly waved back. Well shit.

The school day was over and Iwaizumi was acting really strange lately. You didn't think much of it. That is until you heard familiar voices from the volleyball team in the hallway you were about to turn to. You hear your name come out from one of their mouths, quickly hiding by the wall and tucking your hair behind your ear to hear better.

"You sure you don't have a crush on her?" One scoffs.

"For someone you don't talk so highly about, Iwaizumi, you sure love to hang around her."

You perk up. What were they talking about? Did Iwaizumi say something bad? Something in your gut is telling to run away.

"Fuck no," you hear a gruff voice say. You know that voice. Run.

"I rather fuck a dude than to be around her ass again." Run.

"She seriously gets on my nerves. There's not one time where I don't understand her at all." Fucking run.

"She sounds super weird sometimes. Her accent gives me the fuckin' ick." RUN.

"What about those sweet little texts, Iwa-Chan?" You hear a familiar one say; you think it's the Oikawa dude.

"Oh, that shit?" He scoffs, "please. She texts me non-stop. I'm being real fuckin' generous by even replying to one of them. Plus," you could almost see the smirk plastered on his face in your brain. "I only got her number to get the bomb ass grades that she's got. But if anything, she needs to go back to where she came from." Deep laughter erupts from the group of boys' throats.

You bring up a trembling hand to your mouth and start to dash the way you came from. Fuck, you think. You were never gonna talk to him, ever again.

A few days had passed and you weren't here. Where were you?

"Hey 'Kawa, you seen (Y/N)?" Iwaizumi gently pushes at the brunette's shoulder, rolling his eyes when Oikawa gives him a smirk. "Worried about her, I see?" He smiles triumphantly before that facade quickly gets smacked away by Iwaizumi's hand, a small whine coming from the tall boy. "Answer my question," Iwaizumi taps his foot impatiently. "I don't know! I haven't seen her at all, so I don't know," Oikawa huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. Noted.

Iwaizumi quickly turns around to leave, calls of his name slowly fading away when he walks further down the hallway. And now... He finds himself standing in front of your house. He fiddles with his phone, looking back at your messages.

Haji ♡.

Hey, where r u??

???

Are you sick?

We had notes to take down tdy, want me to send them to you??

Hello?

Are you okay? Did anything happen?

(Y/N)????

Please talk to me.

Come back, please.

(Y/N)?

???

READ 7:02 PM

Well fuck. Either something was wrong at home or he's screwed up. He's screwed up real bad.

He steps onto your porch, his hesitant fist a few centimeters away from your front door. He purses his lips behind his teeth, giving your door a few knocks. Shit, he already regrets this, he thinks. Before he could turn around, the door opens and revealed you. "You," he breathes, shoulders slightly relaxing. You fidget in your spot, eyes looking everywhere but him. His heart twinges at the sight. "Did you... see my messages?" He speaks out. He suddenly feels so small. You nod your head, looking down to your mismatched socks. You both awkwardly stand there in silence just before he speaks up again, "hey so-.. I just wanted to talk.. Is everything.. okay? Like you haven't gone to school or anything and-" "no." Iwaizumi looks up at your face, blinking in surprise, "no?" "No," you say sternly, fists clenching in anger. Uh oh. Yeah, he totally fucked up.

"You... I thought-" you stop speaking when you hear your voice tremble, exhaling heavily through your nose with closed eyes. "I thought.. you liked me," you embarrassingly say, turning away with flushed cheeks. "I thought.. we were friends. I thought we actually got along! I ignored everyone who was talking about me because I had you!" You start to raise your voice which he winces at. You knew about everyone? Yet you never said anything, let alone react. Huh. "I went out to hang out with you! I lied for you- just so you didn't get in trouble! I distanced myself from time to time so no one would talk about YOU! I shared my secrets with you- I-" you look up to Iwaizumi with glossy eyes, tears overwhelmingly pooling at the corners. Iwaizumi looks back at you with a hurt and distraught face. "I trusted you. And to think-" your voice breaks, "to think I even liked you!" You accidentally let out a sob, your hand quick to hover over your mouth.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. What has he done? He was worrying about what his friends thought of him- what everyone would think of him- but what he didn't think about was how you would feel. How you felt. Never has he once asked you about your situation. He just stares at your crying figure. God, were you beautiful. "(Y/N), I-" you cut him off with a teary-eyed glare. "I just... I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I was being selfish, I.. I just wasn't-" he throws his head back when he feels his tears slowly start to come in.

"I like you, (Y/N). Please, forgive me. You don't have to right now, but please. Please do," he shakingly breathes, a tear or two slipping from his eyes. His eyes shoot wide open when he feels your warm hands cup his cheeks, meeting your sad-scrunched up face.

"I am so, so sorry. I like you, I genuinely do. I like you so much," he confesses, looking back at you and stepping closer, analyzing your shocked face. "I like you so much.. But I was so, so, so fucking blind. Whatever you heard me say wasn't true. I was just a scared boy who wanted people to like him. But all this time, I had you," his voice cracks, weakly throwing his hands up towards you. Your face was full of confusion and hurt. "I like you, so so much. I like your accent, y-your Japanese! I like your hair- your skin- your eyes, everything about you, (Y/N). And I'm sorry I made you think otherwise. And I'm sorry I let other people influence me and get in the way of how I feel about you," he shuts his eyes tightly, hanging his head low in shame.

You take a loud sniffle, careful to let out a exhale through your mouth, "I forgive you, Hajime. But it'll take time to gain my trust back again. But," you nearly let out a sob, thumb caressing his cheek bone, "I might move."

His eyes widen. And suddenly, he's pulling you to his embrace, clutching you tightly and caging you with his arms. "Please, no don't- don't go," he whimpers into your ear pathetically. You snake your arms around his neck. "I'll try."

For the rest of week of school, you didn't show up. He was getting really anxious. But other than that, he would literally glare towards people's way whenever he heard your name come out of their mouth. Whether it be a stranger or a friend, a conversation he wasn't involved in, he straight up glares at them.

"Iwaizumi, I thought you didn't like her?" Yahaba suggests, cocking a brow at the spiky haired boy. "Yeah, you were all like 'oh she's so weird! She's so-' OuGh!" Iwaizumi elbows Oikawa right in the stomach, hard. Oikawa hunches over, clutching his stomach, "hey- that really hurt- what's your problem?-"

"My problem? My problem was that I became a fuckin' follower to everybody who was so fixated on talking shit about (Y/N). My problem is that I let it happen! That I said all those awful things about her!" Iwaizumi yells, accidentally... slipping a thing or two out than what was needed. Oikawa looks up at him with a surprised face. Matsukawa and Hanamaki drops a volleyball, letting it roll away as they walk up to him, Matsukawa starts, "yo, are you good?" More teammates look their way. Great, he thinks. What a way to draw attention-

"Hajime?"

His eyes nearly shoot out their sockets and boy he has never turned around so fucking hard in his life. There you were, standing by the doors of the gym, fiddling with the hem of your sweater. You were dressed in casual clothing, cute but casual. You ignore the stares of everyone in the room, staring at Iwaizumi and Iwaizumi alone. "(Y/N).." He croaks out, quickly wiping off his sweat with a towel and runs up to you, encasing you in his sweaty arms and torso.

You squeal, slapping him on the head but you recoil when you feel his sweat.

"Oop," Yahaba narrows his eyes at the sight, his fingertips hovering over his lips. Iwaizumi chuckles and lets go of you, his eyes scanning all over your body. Your cheeks become hot at that. "So it turns out.. I talked to my parents and so.."

"Sooo?" Iwaizumi drags out the 'o', his teammates scooting closer to hear the conversation better. "I'm staying at the school-" "YES!!" He sweeps you up in his arms again, stealing all the hair in your lungs when he bear-hugs you. You let out a light hearted laugh, hugging him back. You didn't care about his sweat at this point.

Oikawa's eyes softened. This was.. really sweet, he thought. Maybe you weren't so bad after all. He guesses it really was wrong to talk about you like that and all. It seems that you make Iwaizumi happy. He smiles and gestures to his other teammates who were thinking the same thing. "Yayyy!" Oikawa skips over to you and Iwaizumi, the other boys following not too far behind.

But, you weren't really fond of everyone there so while they were cheering, you just awkwardly smiled at them.

You and Iwaizumi wall through the school doors, hand in hand.

A girl scrolls through her phone, blowing the gum in her mouth while her self-obsessed friend rants about the 'Oikawa Tooru.' She looks up, gum popping in her face when she catches you and Iwaizumi walking together. She quickly nudges her friend, catching her attention. She darts her gaze towards her friend and you- wait- you?!

You let out a quiet laugh, leaning into Iwaizumi's arm. What the fuck?! Heads turn your way and whispers start but you pay no mind, not when Iwaizumi's there. Not when he's staring at you with such gentleness. Jaws of even more people drops when you and Iwaizumi share a quick but longing kiss, parting ways to go to your classes. Well damn.

While other students whisper behind his back all Iwaizumi can think is how he got so lucky with you.

a/n: I felt really good writing abt this one. I like it :) thank you for the request <3

if you want to read more like this, check out my Masterlist.

[adumbratrapedme]

dating you for a bet | oikawa x reader

happy ending with oikawa | cute ending with matsukawa (w.i.p's)

Synopsis. Oikawa Tooru, the charming and ever-popular volleyball captain, surprises everyone—including himself—when he asks the quiet first-year, Y/N, to be his girlfriend. What begins as an unlikely romance blossoms into something beautiful, filled with stolen moments and heartfelt confessions. But behind Oikawa’s practiced smiles lies a secret that could shatter everything.

wc. 600 aprox. | genre. angst |cw/tags. oikawa being a bitch |pair. oikawa x reader

It was late afternoon when Oikawa leaned against the railing of the rooftop, the sun casting a golden glow over his sharp features. Y/N stood across from him, clutching her bag tightly, unsure why the third-year volleyball captain had called her here. “Y/N-chan,” he began, his voice unusually gentle, “I’ve been watching you for a while now.”

Her cheeks flushed a soft pink. “W-Why?”

Oikawa chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Because you’re different. You’re not like the girls who scream my name in the hallways or obsess over my every move. You’re... real.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. She wasn’t used to such direct attention, especially from someone as popular as Oikawa.

“So, I was wondering,” he continued, taking a small step closer, “would you go out with me?”

Her heart raced, the sincerity in his tone making her doubt the stories she’d heard about his flirtatious nature. After a moment of hesitation, she nodded.

“I-I’d like that,” she whispered.

Oikawa’s grin widened, and for the first time, she felt like it wasn’t one of his practiced smiles for the crowd—it was just for her.

The months that followed were like a dream. Oikawa made her feel like the only girl in the world, shielding her from jealous whispers in the hallways and holding her hand boldly in public. He’d surprise her with little notes in her locker, sneak her out for late-night stargazing, and even let her wear his team jacket on particularly chilly days.

“See, Y/N-chan?” he teased one afternoon as they shared crepes at a local café. “You fit perfectly into my world.”

She laughed, her eyes sparkling. “I think you’ve been spoiling me too much, Oikawa-san.”

“First of all, it’s Tooru,” he corrected, leaning closer. “And second... I can’t help it. You make me want to be better.”

Y/N’s chest swelled with warmth, and she couldn’t imagine a time when she’d been happier.

It was a text message that shattered her world.

Y/N had been rummaging through Oikawa’s bag for a pen while he was in the shower after practice. His phone buzzed, and the name “Iwa-chan” appeared on the screen. Normally, she wouldn’t have snooped, but the preview caught her attention.

Iwaizumi: So, did you win the bet yet or what? You’ve had plenty of time.

Her stomach twisted uncomfortably as she unlocked his phone, scrolling through the chat history.

The texts unfolded like a nightmare:

Iwaizumi: 5,000 yen says you can’t even get her to hold your hand. Oikawa: Make it 10,000. I’ll have her wrapped around my finger in no time. Iwaizumi: Don’t get too cocky, Oikawa. This isn’t your usual fan club girl. Oikawa: Relax, Iwa-chan. I’ve got this. Watch me.

Her hands trembled as she read further, the pit in her stomach growing heavier. The texts started months ago, before they’d even begun dating. But what hurt the most was seeing how casual Oikawa had been about it at first, as though their relationship had been nothing more than a game to him.

By the time Oikawa emerged from the bathroom, towel draped over his shoulders, Y/N was already on her feet, holding his phone in her hand.

“Tooru,” she said, her voice quivering, “what is this?”

He froze, his wide eyes darting from her face to the screen.

“Y/N, I can explain—”

“Explain what?” she interrupted, tears streaming down her cheeks. “That I was just some bet? That you used me so you could win money from your friends?”

“Y/N, please,” he said, stepping closer, his voice desperate. “It started like that, but it’s not like that anymore! I—I care about you. I love you.”

Her heart clenched painfully. “You don’t get to say that, Tooru. You don’t get to turn this into something real when you started it as a lie.”

He reached for her, but she stepped back, shaking her head. “We’re done.”

“Y/N, wait—”

She didn’t. She grabbed her bag and bolted out of his room, leaving him standing there, drenched in regret.

Oikawa sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the phone in his hands. The texts that once seemed like harmless banter now felt like daggers. He hadn’t meant for it to go this far, but somewhere along the way, he’d fallen for her.

And now she was gone.

The room felt emptier without her laugh, her warmth, her everything. He buried his face in his hands, wondering if he’d ever get the chance to fix what he’d broken—or if he was destined to spend the rest of his life haunted by the memory of her tear-streaked face.

Can he ever earn back her trust, or will his mistake be the end of the best thing that’s ever happened to him?

tbh i do think oikawa would do something like this BUT i dont think iwa would be part of it, but i just added him for the plot.