#iwaizumi hajime x reader imagine

[aerifim]

imagine having a secret relationship with iwaizumi as the karasuno manager. like, the amount of thrill and excitement that would run through your veins the moment you lock eyes with him during a match is uncanny. the way his sharp gaze would linger for just a second too long before he snaps his attention back to the game—it's enough to send your heart racing.

the desperation of wanting to be near each other—knowing that the other is just right there—and resisting the urge to walk over to your boyfriend is a different level of risk. there's a magnetic pull between you, one that you both have to fight against to keep your relationship under wraps. 

though, despite the odds of being on opposing sides—and having to deal with the rivalry between your team and his—iwaizumi manages to find subtle ways to communicate with you between matches. a slight tug at his jersey means i miss you, a quick tap on his water bottle signals to meet you later, and a slight smirk across the court drives you absolutely nuts.

he even tries to sneak little notes into your bag, ones that say things like “you looked cute today. try not to stress too much over the crows.” 

but the struggle of not getting caught is real. kageyama and hinata always seem suspicious—especially since they seem to have a sixth sense when something feels “off”—but luckily they're too dense to put the pieces together.

but oikawa? he's a completely different story. he knows something is up. every time karasuno and aoba johsai are in the same vicinity, he teases iwaizumi mercilessly. 

“iwa-chan, you keep looking at karasuno’s manager. don't tell me you’ve got a crush.” he coos, only to get smacked upside the head.

there are so many close calls that almost revealed your relationship to the whole team. like the time you accidentally just called him “hajime” in front of your team, making tanaka and nishinoya immediately latch onto it. or when you and iwaizumi almost left a convenience store together after practice—laughing, completely forgetting that your teams were also inside. 

but then, it finally slips. the two of you got caught making out with each other in the storage room after a long, intense, and competitive practice match against aoba johsai. neither of you saw the door swing open in time and the two most noisiest team members had caught you two in the act. 

to say that tanaka and nishinoya were shocked to see the sight of you and an aoba johsai teammate making out in the storage room would be an understatement. and soon enough, everyone else knew. 

it started small. once sugawara and daichi caught wind of it, they immediately sat you down and spoke to you about it. 

with the rest of the team. 

luckily, it wasn't that big of a deal on your end—if you ignore tanaka and noya’s dramatic commentary. but for iwaizumi? he had to deal with oikawa being a drama queen. 

but, after all the teasing, the fake outrage, and oikawa dramatically claiming he needed “emotional recovery time” (which was just an excuse to bother iwaizumi more), both teams accepted it. 

that didn't mean they'd stop messing with you two, though. 

any time karasuno and aoba johsai were in the same gym, oikawa would send exaggerated kisses in your direction for the sole purpose of pissing iwaizumi off. nishinoya and tanaka started calling him “brother-in-law” to see how long it would take to get him to snap. 

sugawara even joined in on it, casually mentioning things like, “wow, iwaizumi-san, you're so polite for someone who made out in our storage room.” 

and, despite all the teasing, the sneaky comments, and the endless smirks from both teams, you and iwaizumi wouldn’t change a thing.

because at the end of the day, it was worth it.

♡ happy valentines day! this is for @reiyaus :3 & for the 3 people alive in the haikyuu fandom rn.

[bowtiepasta]

the only place iwaizumi's ever felt like he really belonged was beside you.

which is why watching you lean toward mattsun as you fell asleep on the train, bothered him. which is why, hearing that makki was the first person you called when you landed back in japan ruined his day. which is why — finding out that oikawa was texting and facetiming you the entire time he was in argentina, hurt him more than anything. what about him?

he goes about his day thinking about you. iwa wakes up at 8:35 instead of 8:30 because you used to say the extra five should be reserved for good morning kisses.

he leaves a blanket on the left side of the sofa in his living room since it was the spot where you slept the last time you stumbled onto his doorstep shitfaced, slurring on about how he was your “favorite ex” and “the one that got away.” just in case.

his hour long break at work turns to two hours in the time he walks around the gym daydreaming about how he would forget to bring his lunch, and you would drive over to deliver it (with a side of make out in the broom closet, which was his favorite part). bokuto gives him a weird look. he nearly gets fired that evening.

when iwa gets home, closes the door behind him, he’s fed up. he misses you; god, he really does. so much so that he feels it pull at his chest, and his hands grapple at his phone without a second thought. he scrolls down to your name in his contact list, not without a heart next to it. and he calls you, lets it go to voicemail.

the next ten minutes are spent in reminiscing, paragraphs spoken about the things he wishes he could do with you again. he falls asleep on the phone, wakes up to it ringing. his body feels at home the moment he hears your voice on the other end.

you ask how his mother is doing, ask if he’s met anyone new at all, ask if he’s eaten today and if he wants to get lunch at the cafe nearby. his heart skips a beat at the slivers of hope you’re rationing, clawing at the crumbs of second chance. even if that means he has to start again, this time across from you.

[lale-txt]

❥ 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 ↳ 𝐰/ 𝐀𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐮, 𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮, 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐨, 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐦𝐚, 𝐎𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚, 𝐈𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐳𝐮𝐦𝐢 & 𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐬𝐚

a/n: reader is gn! i started drafting those during one of the first sticky hot summer nights of the year, then forgot about it until this came over me once again like a fever, and now here we are. i love writing drabbles because they force you to really think about the chars, how you perceive them and how to nail their unique personalities in 200 words or less. anyway, this is my first time writing for HQ after the brainworms got me down bad and i had lots of fun! hope you'll enjoy them too ♡

word count: 1.3k

𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐔 whines when you have the audacity to kick him back towards his end of the couch, catching your ankle and pulling you towards him in return, stubbornly ignoring your protests. Too hot to cuddle, my ass, he pouts, genuinely offended that you’d even consider that; when the only time Atsumu ever feels a sense of calm is when part of you touches him. Your hand playing with the shaved hair in the back of his neck, your leg hooked over his hipbone as you sprawl out in bed together, hell, even your icy cold feet shoved underneath his butt during winter. Something was missing when he couldn’t have your proximity. Yer so needy, Tsumu. So what if he was? He pulls you into his lap, face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, hands tightening around your waist. His breath fanning over your skin, hot and cool against it. Atsumu takes, he demands, but with you he is pleading, silent for once. Just a little longer–dreaming, breathing you in, kissing till he feels you smiling against his lips.

𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔 wears his hair shorter now, back at its natural dark color, too. You helped him buzz it off during one of those sticky summer nights. Both of you in nothing but your underwear, Osamu sitting on the edge of the bathtub in your cramped bathroom. One hand of yours holding a razor and the other clamped over your mouth because you horribly messed up a setting and now he had a funny little edge in his hair, throwing you both in a laughing fit. It was your first summer together and Osamu couldn’t help but hope that there would be many more like this to come, with your bodies orbiting each other, unable to keep your hands off despite the heat and the sweat, the air heavy and electric and yet so light whenever he hears you laugh. Nothing beats the feeling of lifting you up on the kitchen counter and your eyes lingering on his hands, shaping a midnight snack for the both of you, getting drunk on stolen glances and kisses. There’s many metaphors for food and love and right now, Osamu can taste them all on the tip of your tongue.

𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐎 hasn’t even kicked his shoes off at the entrance yet and is already loosening his tie, before slender fingers work down button for button on his shirt. He hears you laugh about his demeanor from the other end of the hallway. How lucky, he thinks to himself. To have someone waiting for him at home, making even long work days during the most miserable summer heat bearable. His shirt has barely hit the floor and he’s already on you, caging you in with his arms and covering every inch of your skin he can reach in kisses, despite your giggling and feigned huffing over how sticky he is, sending him to shower first (as if you wouldn’t come right after him). Kuroo purrs when your hands tangle in his hair. In the end you always pull him back towards your lips again, swallowing every little quip and taunt like candy, sweet and syrupy in your mouth. It reminds him how he fell in love with you many summers ago, his heart ablaze ever since.

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐀 is glued to the fan at this point. He even switched gaming from his desktop set-up to a handheld console, reluctantly admitting that his old house would heat up even more with his computer running at full blast. His expression really says it all when you approach him, silently pleading for cuddles. Kenma just can’t understand how anyone would seek someone else’s body heat when the sun outside was already doing a pretty good job in trying to end him. Still, he isn’t immune to your charms, never was (one time he mumbled something about your stats being way too high and how everything changed once he received a love buff of yours). When you hold out a popsicle as a means of bribery and blink at him with those damn soft eyes of yours, Kenma pauses his game and holds out his arms. He hums into the kiss you give him before sitting down in his lap, your lips tasting like ice cream and summer love. He rests his chin on your shoulder, face nuzzled against your neck, before he continues his game, letting you feed him the sweet cold treat. Summer might have become a little more bearable with you in his life–though he was already looking forward to many winters under the kotatsu with you. 

𝐎𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀 is squishing your cheeks together, his thumb brushing over the corner of your mouth. Collecting evidence, but also wanting to feel your tongue poke out slightly against it, cheeky as ever. Just how could you eat the last ice cream in the freezer without him? He lets out an exaggerated huff, feigned indignation, both of you knowing he can never keep this up for too long–not when it comes to you. Oikawa leans down to kiss you, your face still in a tight grip, tasting the remains of the ice cream on your lips, as if you weren’t sweet enough already. Maybe he can be bribed for another kiss when you offer a midnight walk to the 7/11 down the street, promising to pay for a cool sweet treat to make it up to him. He had already forgotten what he was mad about the moment you leaned into the kiss, but he’ll never say no to a chance to hold your hand, even if it’s sticky with leftover ice cream and the summer heat. To Oikawa, love is stored in the mundane things, even if his love for you is anything but that.

𝐈𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐈 is standing in the kitchen past midnight, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers while he roams the freezer for anything to help him cool down; even a pack of frozen peas would do. He feels a pang of guilt for having peeled away from you, your form pressed so tightly against him in his sleep, it almost gave him a heat stroke–for more reason than one. Everything is sticky and airless and Iwaizumi is sure that if he would have glanced at you even a minute longer, his heart might have just given out on him. All this love he holds for you, burning him up from the inside, like a fever. He lets out a long exhale when he presses an ice bag against the back of his neck, but it’s not that what causes a shiver down his spine; it’s two arms sneaking around his waist from behind, your sleepy voice mumbling out his name, your body melting into his again. The first kiss pressed on the side of your neck is an apology, the second one a promise. The third–to devour you.

𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐀 grumbles something about you being too sticky and sweaty, making a weak attempt to shove you back to your side of the bed, only to pull you back by your hips when you actually do leave some room between you. He can’t help it, you fit so perfectly in the curve of his body, your back pressed against his chest, one of his knees nudged between your legs, all tangled up. It’s the perfect position to plant kisses on the back of your neck, too. Kiyoomi loathes those hot summer nights in the concrete city. He’d rather be somewhere else with you, somewhere to breathe more easily through this heat. Maybe you should move to the countryside, yes. A small house with lots of green surrounding it. Less people and noise, just you and him. Yeah, he would like that. He kisses the back of your neck once more and takes a slow, deep inhale of your sweet scent, before sleep finally crawls upon him again. For now he’ll endure this heat, anything, as long as he can hold you in his arms like this–and have a cold shower with you in the morning, maybe.

[makkir0ll]

thinking about car mechanic iwa who see's you run into his shop with tears in your eyes, drenched from the rain, crying because your car is making a weird noise and symbols are popping up and you don't know what to do because your dad isn't picking up. you tell him all these through broken sobs as he rubs your back comfortingly. he gives you a towel to dry off and some shitty hot coffee with atleast six sugar packets mixed inside...hoping to warm you up. he goes into your car and checks out what's wrong. your car might take a while to get fixed but he promises he can do it. you thank him graciously when he walks to you the loaner cars.

two weeks later you show up at his shop again, and it's a hotter day and you see him with sweat dripping down his VERY toned chest (he's shirtless bc of the heat and their fan does literally nothing to help) with oil stains on his cheek. were his eyes always this green? you think to yourself. when he hands you the keys back to your car and you start it up, everything works perfectly. once you pay he gives you a little discount (he doesn't tell you though) and you want to thank him..maybe with dinner?

[sugarwarachan]

random horny thoughts about hq men - seijoh + nekoma edition

CHARACTERS: mattsun, iwaizumi, makki, oikawa, kuroo, kenma, shohei CWS: nsfw, smut, all characters 18+, knife play, implied d/s undertones to a lot of these, toxic relationship elements, cheating/cucking if you squint, corruption kink, oral (f!receiving), bondage, spit kink NOTES: continue to enjoy my gross thoughts as i pull myself out of whatever writer's block hell i'm in. thank you to the anon who suggested shohei's - i accidentally deleted it i'm so sorry 😀

mattsun loves knife play. the idea of cutting your tights away from your body, tracing the knife ever so gently up the inside of your thigh before rippppp the metal tears through like butter. the flash of fear and unbridled lust in your eyes bricks him up instantly. he slots his thigh between yours and presses the flat of the blade ever so gently against your thrumming pulse. "ready to play, angel?"

iwaizumi finds out your ex never made you cum and makes it his personal mission to give you as many orgasms as possible. his fingers, tongue, dick, thighs, he wants to get you off in every way possible and erase that idiot’s ineptitude from your brain. “you cum so easily, baby. the fuck was your ex talking about?”

makki loves when you talk back. it’s foreplay for him to take you out somewhere nice and relentlessly tease you all night, each of you trading good-natured barbs that run just a little bit nasty (he likes when you’re mean, what can he say). there’s always a line, though, and when you cross it, his hand grips the back of your neck hard enough to stop you short. "I think we should go home, don't you?"

oikawa is prone to toxic situationships that always result in hurt feelings (his own). he sees you out with other guys and it actually boils his blood to the point where he’s calling you, whining about how you don’t make time for him anymore, and when you come over, he fucks you face down on the mattress to remind you that he’s the only one who knows how to make you cum the way you like

he’s super embarassed about it, but kuroo has a little bit of a corruption kink. like the first time he goes down on you and you get all blushy and embarassed - he’s hard as a rock. soothes you with soft kisses on your neck and stomach as he tells you how beautiful you look, how good you are just for him. he’s gentle in how he eats but he’s determined to make you as crazy for him as he is for you

kenma is lazy this kenma is lazy that - kenma finds out how much you like to be tied up and learns everything he can about bondage play. he buys a dummy to practice on (kuroo absolutely loses his mind over this), he watches tutorials, boy is dedicated to finding out how to make you cum this way. when this skinny streamer guy asks you out, you have no idea you’re gonna be roped into a bondage belt with a happy strap grazing over your clit as you sob into his arms (but you're not complaining)

your first impression of shohei is that he’s never known the touch of a woman but HOO BOY were you wrong. this man is a FREAK between the sheets. you can’t believe that the mild-mannered dude who barely says a word forces your mouth open so he can spit directly onto your tongue. by the time he’s done with you, you’re fucked out of your skull, covered in scratches, hickies, and cum, and being asked if you want to order taco bell

2025 © all works belong to @sugarwarachan. do not repost, translate, or steal any of my works. reblogs and comments always appreciated <3

[fushiguruuzzzz]

hajime iwaizumi was not someone you would generally consider to be crafty. he played volleyball, got overly competitive over arm wrestling, and considered pitching a volleyball to the back of oikawa’s head to be motivational. though his hands were gentle and warm as they held you, he was not nimble or gentle in most other ways.

so imagine your surprise when you trotted into your living room in search of him — his quick departure to get a glass of water stretched out far too long — only to find him sat crisscrossed on your carpet, brows furrowed as he strung along beads on a thin string. your youngest sibling was sat to his left, smaller knee bumping his as they sat in focused silence. he did not even notice you as you halted in the doorway, something amused and fond pulling at your lips as you simply observed.

“hey,” you spoke. “having fun crafting?” you smiled as the heads of your kin darted up in sync, eyes meeting yours at the startle.

hajime radiated something that almost seemed sheepish, head cocking ever so slightly to the side. it was a contrast to the bright smile of the little one the moment they recognized you.

“i’m working on it,” he murmured. surprisingly enough, it was not half bad despite the fact that the set was made for someone with hands a tenth the size of his. it seemed his newfound dedication was paying off.

you sat in peaceful quiet, watching them with a sort of affection you had never felt before. you ended up with two new bracelets that night; one chubby hand presenting it enthusiastically, your boyfriend opting to avoid looking at you and telling you to shut your mouth when dared to try.

“laugh it up,” he had said, grumbling under his breath, but the warmth in his cheeks betrayed his truth.

you laughed, pressing an overly dramatic kiss to his cheek. he did not lean away. “sorry, baby. I love it, thank you.”

he smiled — just a bit — and for once, he was not swift enough to hide it. maybe he had not bothered. maybe, in that moment, he felt a need to remind you that he was not all rough around the edges; there was a soft part of him saved for worthy eyes. he considered you the greatest of them all.

a/n: i’m trying to write thdla and reqs but I literally can think of nobody but aki hayakawa (I haven’t even actually watched csm yet) he’s right behind me breathing down my neck so take this

[gis3lla]

seriously didn't mean it.

“seriously. stop chasing after me you freak,” is what he said after you had given him the 4th lunch for the week. your hands still offered that bento box out when he let out another grunt, hating how stupid you looked, chasing after him. you sighed as you shoved the bento box into his chest. you couldn't help it though. you liked him ever since you laid your eyes on him, almost like love at first sight. an angel sent to earth by Cupid.

“i made this myself. its all of your favorites!” you cheerfully said as he took the bento box in a harsh manner. when you exited the room, he quickly dumped everything out and shoved the box back into his bag. you weren't always the best at giving gifts, but you figured cooking, something you loved, was going to do the trick. you had spent weeks researching the yummiest dishes and complied them together for him.

it was during class. the teacher had placed you behind him, and he was furious. he hated how he was stuck with you every single day, every single hour. it was miserable. you kept bugging him, asking him about his day, about the bento box you had made him, and asked if he would like to eat anything else. he of course, declined. at the end of class, he had given you an empty bento box and left the classroom.

you were at his practice again. he can't stand you anymore, it's almost like if he saw you one more time he would explode in everyone's faces. you were nice to his teammates though. you always brought snacks and drinks for everyone, and made everyone laughed. well everyone except for him. he was stubbornly in the corner trying to get some peace while everyone else was laughing.

the final straw is when you followed him home. he hated how you were constantly trailing behind him everywhere, always talking. god how he wishes how you would just shut up for once. after explaining how awesome the new book you both were reading in class today, he finally snapped. he yelled at you. he confessed how he wished you would shut up and stop bothering him. how he threw away all of those lunches you spent weeks researching and testing to perfect the recipe.

you just stood there shocked and surprised about what he had just said, not processing anything, until it finally gets in your head. he doesn't like you. he thinks you're annoying. that is when you walked off to your own house, not even bothering to listen to him when he called your name.

the next day, you never paid any attention to him. he should feel relieved and relaxed that you weren't talking to him anymore, but he doesn't. he ignored the feeling at first. maybe you were just upset at him because of his outbreak, and then go back to annoying him next week.

except, when next week came, you came into class, silent. no tapping him in the back, no asking for pencils. you had brought your own. to be honest, you were scaring him with the way your giving him the silent treatment. when the bell rang for lunch, you never took out another bento box for him to have, the one reserved for him wasn't in your hands anymore when he looked at you walking away to talk to another friend of yours. maybe it was all normal, which is what he told himself.

by the start of the second week, he was genuinely questioning himself. why did he all of a sudden care when you stopped giving him attention? he was honestly frustrated with himself as he was feeling an emotion he had never felt before. was he possibly, in love with you? no. that's what he tried telling himself until his best friend smacked him back into reality when he saw you talking to another guy. that's when he knew he had to make it right.

the next morning you opened the door to find him waiting. you raised a brow as he handed you a small little trinket for your bag. "i heard that girls like these things.." he said shyly has you took the trinket from his hand. you thanked him, then walked off without waiting for him. an act that stung his heart a little, unlike before.

during lunch time, he had followed you to the secret staircase where you would eat lunch alone while finding different recipes to try and cook, but this time it was awkward with you sitting across from him. you both sat in silence while he tried to think of something to start a conversation. "so why did you start cooking?" he asked as you continued to eat. you never told him, you just stared at him, not willing to tell him that you only cooked because of him.

after school, he asked you to show up to practice again. he used the reason for his teammates missing you to make you show up. you were hesitant, but decided to go since you did miss them.

he kept going like this for weeks. shared lunches, he even asked you to start making lunch for him again, saying that his mom was too busy to make lunch for him. he walked home with you, and occasionally bought small key chains or trinkets for you. you didn't want to admit it, but you were slowly falling for him and his tricks again. not to be labeled as annoying again.

"I seriously don't know what you want from me, but I'm trying not to be annoying to you," you had said when you two were walking home from school. he froze, not realizing how much his words had an impact on you. "sorry, I genuinely didn't mean it. I was just tired that day," he had said quietly as he felt heat rushing to his cheeks. was it the right time to confess? it has only been a few months.

"i'm trying to get over you. so please stop," you said coldly as you started to pull out everything he has given you over the past weeks. he panicked, not wanting to go no contact again,"I like you. I'm sorry I was wrong."

then you both paused. maybe you haven't lost your chances yet.

characters: tsukishima, kenma, iwaizumi (?), suna, ushijima, semi, shirabu, kageyama, any character of your choice!

banner credits: @//toturnbacktime on pinterest, dm for removal <3

note: hello everyone! thank you all for the support!! i'll try and post whenever i can, but I might not at times due to my workload. if you have anything to request, please feel free to, I would love ideas. please interact!! you guys are all so sweet, thank you for reading and I hope you have an amazing day/night <3

[euphoricimagination]

𝓗𝓪𝓲𝓴𝔂𝓾𝓾 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓼 𝓶𝓮𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪 𝓹𝓲𝓬𝓴-𝓶𝓮 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵 - Part 2

Feat. Aoba Johsai & Fukurodani

Premise: You had to do something else for a week and a half, leaving the boys alone for that period. Although they told the coaches that they could survive without you, the coaches ask a girl to help them out instead. They weren’t particularly excited, which got worse the more they spent time with her

Aoba Johsai

Since Seijoh’s volleyball club was very popular among the students, the coach had no problems in looking for someone to be there while you weren’t

In fact, the coach found two, mostly because there were a lot of duties during that week

Unnecessary in the eyes of the team, they were fine before you, they don’t need two of them now

Not even a day passed when the team were dreading this decision; not only they were Oikawa fans to begin with, but they were also annoying

Even Oikawa couldn’t find joy in this situation

The normally heartthrob of the team, the one that adores receiving attention, couldn’t stand them, missing your *playful* punches and scoldings

You luckily were able to hang out with them after their Sunday practice, when it had become a tradition to go to the nearest shopping mall to eat a meal as a team

So to surprise them, you went there without them, planning to raid their table

When you saw them walking into the food court you couldn’t help but giggle, one girl was holding the arm of a very disgusted Oikawa, while the other was clearly acting like a dude alongside an annoyed Iwaizumi, everyone else ignoring them

You started looking at the menus, deciding what to eat, ordering a burger and some fries

“Wow, you’re eating…that? Someone is not thinking about hot girls summer” you hear from your left, one of the girls looking at you as if you were committing a sin

“yeah I don’t care”

“That’s all you’re getting? I could not eat only that, I’m ordering like 6 burgers” another voice comes from your other side, the other girl was there too

“…ok” you say, starting to understand why the team was so fed up with them. The team looks mean, but they were never unnecessary rude

“can I have a salad? I wish I could eat..that, but I’m too worried about how I look, you know” the girl in your left says

“I just got done playing volleyball with the team, so I need like…6.000.000 calories, imagine only eating a salad” the other says, making you sigh

“I love your make up, by the way! It’s so…natural, I wish I had the confidence to not care about how I look on public, good for you!” the girl says with a sarcastic tone

“imagine even wearing make up every day and trying that hard, like I just roll out of bed an-”

“I don’t care about any of your thoughts, so shut up please” you say annoyed, you didn’t know if you were annoyed, uncomfortable or straight up angry, but before you could add anything else an arm wraps your shoulder

“Yn-chaan!” Oikawa squishes you

“Yn-san, you’re here!” Kindaichi exclaims, relief appearing on his face. Kunimi gets slightly closer to you, a move that means that he wants some type of affection, so you pat his head

“Y-you know her?” the princess type of girl asks, eyes wide

“She is our dear manager” Matsukawa adds, Hanamaki nodding with a smirk that only grew bigger when the girl shrieks

“H-her?! But she looks so weak! And I bet she doesn’t know shit about sports! Like.. she’s a girl!” the ‘tomboy’ girl says now

“don’t get too comfortable now, you were just a substitute for her, not the other way around. She is the best manager we could ever ask for” Oikawa says mockingly, hugging you tighter

“b-b-but…”

“you can leave now, we have our manager back, we don’t need you two here anymore” Iwaizumi ends the conversation, taking your tray with food as they all take you to the table

“I still have a few days that I can’t be there” you tell them once you were sitting

“we’ll manage” Iwaizumi says

“What Yn-chaan? Are you sure you aren’t missing this handsome face of mi-ouch!” Oikawa tries to say, but you punch him making the team laugh

You were at peace again

Fukurodani

Despite having another managers in their rooster, the coach decided to ask the manager of other team to help them out

After all the team is big, so another hand wouldn’t be bad

The team was nice, so they did try their best to make her feel welcome eve if it was for a week and a half

But she was making things hard

Washio tried to be a gentleman, but he ended up not interacting much with her

Konoha, in the other hand, was sarcastic, but she was either too dense or too delusional to realize

Akaashi tried to be understanding, but even he was starting to get tired of it

And Bokuto, even with his loud and extroverted personality, ended up just trying to avoid her

When you came back, you had the *amazing* opportunity to meet her first hand, right after entering the gym

What the guys have told you wasn’t particularly encouraging, yet you still wanted to give her a fair shot

“Why are you looking at me? It’s just a knee brace, you never seen something like this?” she tells you, before you could even say hi

“well, hi, nice to meet you too”

“So…you are the manager? The one that I’m replacing? Well, of course you don’t know what this is, since you don’t play any sports”

“well, before I kinda did some cheerleading, but it wasn't for me so I joined this idiots and…”

“exactly! Cheerleading isn’t a sport! Gosh, how are you even the manager of this team”

“Yn!!” Bokuto enters the gym, hugging you tightly as he spins around. Akaashi was behind, who gives you a smile

“If you were wondering! I got injured by playing football…and then basketball and then volleyball with the boys, remember that Bokuto?!”

“eh..nope” bokuto answers confused

“Well me neither”

“anyways! I’m back on the team, so thank you for…well, being here. I’ll take care of it from here on out…unless the guys want you to stay..?” you say

“NO!” a collective answer came in, way too quickly. You resisted a laugh

“well, that settles it, good luck with your knee brace” you push her out softly, a grunt coming from her

“Thank god you’re back Yn-chan” Akaashi tells you, the team patting your head lovingly

“we should celebrate! After practice lets go to eat!” Bokuto adds

“okay! Bokuto is paying!” Konoha says, going to the court to start practicing

You see bokuto whine as he goes too, everyone joining while making fun of the owl boy.

[noosayog]

[11:01 pm] ft. iwaizumi hajime

wc: 300

--

“Stop that.” 

You put your hand on Hajime’s bouncing knee. 

He doesn’t respond to you, keeping his eyes glued to the screen currently showing the live Argentina and Brazil volleyball match. 

He’s been on edge, looking forward to seeing this match all day. He would rather die than admit it, but you can see the sparkle in his eye and upward twitch of his lips when a certain someone, his old captain and long-time best friend steps onto the court. 

Normally, their cross-continental bond inspires warm fuzzies in your chest, but Hajime has been distracted from the moment the two of you woke up in bed, your afternoon date, and all through dinner. It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve questioned this since you’ve been with Hajime, but is he in love with you or Oikawa? 

You give him a tap on his shoulder which he ignores. 

“Hajime.” 

Silence. 

“Hajime!” 

“Hmm?” he responds distractedly. 

You huff, before crawling in between his legs. He spreads them to give you more room, but keeps his hands to himself. You maneuver his arms to circle your waist but he eventually removes them in favor of holding the remote and rubbing his chin thoughtfully when Oikawa does anything at all. 

The one knee continues its jittery bouncing. It doesn’t stop even when you place a palm on it. 

“Hajime, stop shaking. It’s annoying!” 

He stops, looking down at you. It’s not just the leg shaking you were referring to and he knows it. 

He doesn’t say anything, but wraps his arms back around you and they stay there this time. He gives you a sweet kiss on the forehead and just like that, all is forgiven. 

You’re content to snuggle back into his chest but before you can doze off, Hajime murmurs something in your ear, his own form of revenge for your bratty behavior. 

“Annoying wasn’t the word you were using when you were the one bouncing on these legs…” 

It earns him a smack to the face.

[megapteraurelia]

iwaizumi hajime (27) athletic trainer.

summary | you pulled a muscle during practice, and conventiently, iwazumi hajime was around to help get off. warnings | it's smut and a lil fluff! word count | 2976. a/n | uhmmmmmmmm, it's iwaizumi hajime. there you have my reasoning. >_> i have NOT checked over grammar, so super sorry if you find mistakes. you're free to keep 'em, though. also!! this was only supposed to be like a 400 words drabble....ehm heh :3 please let me know what you think! -` ♡ ´-

“iwaizumi-san!”

“stop it!” you hissed quietly, panic bubbling up within you, but she ignored you as she called out to the athletic trainer, currently supervising your volleyball team on this monday, sharing him with several other volleyball teams of all kinds of leagues on the other days. 

her voice sounded so innocent, so worried, so fake when in actuality she was bursting at the seams with delight to set you up with the trainer, so you tried again before she was too far for her to hear your whispers full of hysteria, “get back here, immediately, i’m gonna ki— oh shit, shit.”

in tow with your teammate, jogging like only a greek god could do, was iwaizumi hajime. his dark hair was pushed back and tousled up, courtesy of his hand running through it a bunch of times as he stood observing all of you, quietly speaking to your coach. iwaizumi’s eyebrows were drawn over his eyes, and oh, those intense eyes, trained on you. you thought you might as well hyperventilate when he looked at you like that. like he wasn’t just the on-site expert for sport injuries. like he had a reason for his eyes to linger on your form when you played. like his attention was solely on you, drinking in your entire form. 

he was kneeled beside you before you could even swallow the saliva that gathered in your mouth to realise it. steadfast hands hovered over your leg, careful not to touch without having your explicit permission, though the warmth radiating from his hands heated up the slight slit of air between your skins.

“what happened?” he murmured, voice a deep rumble in his chest, warm and smooth. the green of his eyes searched yours for an answer to his asked question escaping his lips and the unasked one in the form of his clean nails and gentle fingertips ready to palpate your flesh.

you nodded at him, “i think i moved too suddenly. i didn’t… “ before trailing off, promptly inhaling when his fingers descended and touched your leg, bare skin spouting goosebumps almost immediately at the contact. his hands were warm, pleasant touches yet with enough pressure that you had to suppress a shiver running marathons down your back.

“...warm up properly,” you finished your sentence, gaze wandering over his face: the look of concentration, dark eyebrows framing his light eyes, the striking jaw as he kneed the muscle, gently prodding to find the tender spot. 

“mhmm,” he pressed down lightly onto your thigh above your knee, “here?”

“no. higher.”

his fingers were obedient to your voice as they glided up, hands exploring your flesh, and once again, he asked, “closer?”

“no,” you breathed out, teeth finding your lower lip to bite down as your cheeks heated up, “higher still, and more towards the inside.”

iwaizumi hajime’s eyes found yours, and they were strong the way they captured you so easily, the way you could get lost in them. the intensity and presence of his body crouched around you like he could smother you if he wanted, if you wanted, and his eyes pleaded for honesty as he silently asked whether it was alright to touch higher up. you nodded, because it was.

“alright, if you would excuse me,” he said, yet you could swear there was a slight rasp in his voice that wasn’t there before. one that slithered in and took a hold of you, only for you to instinctually lean forward a bit, feeling his chest near your shoulder as the air warmed up.

like a string of butterflies, his hands moved up your thigh, almost at the juncture of your legs, and they slid down, searching your heated flesh for the tender spot, fingertips pressing, his breaths even yet deep, your heart pitter-pattering clumsily, and— 

“ah! holy— fuck, that there, it hurts.”

he watched your face contort in pain carefully, his fingers easing up the pressure, yet keeping a hold of your thighs to measure the extent of your muscle strain.

“calm, calm, deep breaths,” he murmured lowly, voice almost like a purr yet the pain at his hands shooting up, “you’re doing well, good girl.”

“good, breathe in,” tears pricked in your eyes at another wave of pain swapping over you and you inhaled deeply, “and out now. i know it hurts, but you’re fantastic. doing a good job, you brave doll, you.”

 maybe you were delirious, maybe it was his scent, maybe his touch, maybe the heat pooling in your stomach, but his praising words, praising you, accompanying the pain ignited a deep desire in you, made your legs twitch for something other than agony, and then there were his eyes — making you feel like he liked having his hands on you, like he liked saying those things to you, like he could devour you right then and there. intense, piercing, seeing all of you. 

the tip of his rosy tongue poking out quickly to wet his lips as his hands stilled and he softly let go of your leg.

“you should make sure to get proper rest. no overworking yourself, and — “ he fixed you with a long look, one that had your toes curling, that made feelings stir in your chest, that told you there was scolding awaiting you if you didn’t listen; an underlying threat, a warning, a promise,“ — you better not forget to warm up next time. extensively.”

your cheeks reddened in shame, because you knew you should have, “yes, i will, iwaizumi-san.”

he nodded, though hovered right next to you for a moment still as he breathed out, and then he stood up, his shirt stretched wide over his shoulders. he looked down at you, eyes darting all over your form, lingering on your leg with your pulled muscle, over to your face, to your lips. 

his hand went through his hair again, the other clenched to a fist “do you have a way to get home?”

innocently, you shook your head.

it surely was a sign of control, the way his fingertips pressed into your knuckles ever so slightly, as he helped you through the door of your apartment. his scent was so close to you, and when you opened your mouth, you could taste his fragrance. 

“thank you.”

iwaizumi gingerly let you down on the couch and helped you elevate your leg on the table in front of you, eyes lingering on your shoes that you still wore. with a glance at you, he started untying your laces to pull your shoes off. 

the act was intimate; his hands were as warm as his voice was dark, “you should really take it easy.”

“but then i wouldn’t have you taking care of me,” you finally allowed a smile to grace your lips, your hand opening up toward him, and he came closer to you. his chest was firm against your fingers as they slid up to touch his shoulders, his neck, pulling him down to you slightly.

“you don’t have to get injured for that to happen, silly,” he mumbled, distracted, his hands settling on your healthy leg, fingers pressing into the pillow of your flesh, though this time with an underlying heat he hadn’t shown during your practice.

“i didn’t do it on purpose!”

his eyes narrowed and he regarded you professionally, in the way it always turned you on when he did; his voice a snarl as he got into your face, “how often have i told you to not just dive into gameplay without making sure your muscles are all ready to go, huh? you’re asking for—”

you sank your teeth into his lower lip.

his eyes seemingly darkened with desire, and he abandoned holding you at arm’s length within the second your mouth met his. tongues laced together, intertwined in a maze of delight, the rough pink muscle pushing down on yours, dominating the whole of your mouth; only a matter of time until you were nothing but a puddle of nothingness at his feet, ready to do everything he wanted.

he growled your name into your mouth, gasping for air, pulling you in again, because how could he ever get enough of you? 

the way you tasted, your carelessness igniting an anger in him that spurred him on to teach you a lesson, fire pooling in his stomach, in his loin; your tongue hot against his.

you mewled at him overpowering you, and a quirk of his lips were the only thing responding to your rosy cheeks. his nose found its way to the spot where your neck and your ear met, the spot he always buried his face in to take in your scent, to kiss you silly. his teeth grazed your flesh, breath hot as the desire blazed up in your stomach at his touch.

“say my name.”

“h—hajime.”

another pinch, another bruise you would have to cover up in the morning, “again. i don’t like when you call me iwaizumi.”

“hajime,” you repeated just as low, hand gripping his hair tight to pull it. in response, his tongue caressed your flesh, his fingers crawling up your leg to your stomach, and you remembered the times his dick drilled into you, deep and hard, pushing you over the edge, his fingers pressed into your stomach just like that. 

his face pulled up again, swiftly dipping you into a dark maze again, tongues already touching before your mouth could connect, “fuck, i shouldn’t. you’re injured.”

“hajime,” you pleaded against his lips, one hand slipping down to the waistband of his pants, “please. it was hard enough to…”

you trailed off when his fingers wandered too; a mild frenzy surrounding you, stuffy, restricting your breathing at how broad he loomed over you, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. you loved the arousal swapping through your body, and you couldn’t wait to have him touch your hip to support his weight, ram his cock into you so hard until you saw stars, and even then he wouldn’t stop, would continue sinking deep into you. 

“go on. finish your sentences,” he drawled; his intense gaze burning you up, lips shining with saliva, cheeks flushed in a rosé. just as you, he was caged in lust. 

“it was— ah,” your voice turned scratchy and traitorous when his rough fingers slipped down your panties, “h—hard…fuck, I— pretending like, ngh-ahh, we’re not…a th—thing..”

“what’s that? i don’t think i can properly hear you over your stutter.”

“bas—bastaa-hah-hard.”

your thighs opened up for him, even though one of your legs screamed for you to stop moving, but you couldn’t help it, your hips rubbing against his fingers, grinding down on him slowly, roughly; pants falling from your mouth like leaves in october. his body pushed yours against the back of the couch, hard, his mouth biting your skin as his lips found that specific spot on your neck easily again.

“yeah? you really want to call me names now, doll?” iwaizumi hajime could not fool you so easily, his breath leaving his mouth in chopped pieces; the words escaping his needy mouth a breeze against your skin once you had shoved your hands down the pants to grip him. his desire was matching the same inferno roaring in you, and he felt heavy in your hand, thick and warm.

a groan escaped him, low; and your hips leaned forward to kiss his hands again and again, rolling, breasts pressed against his chest as your mouth left hard kisses all over his neck, leaving marks, claiming him as yours the way you wanted to shout to the world.

hajime could only watch you through half-lidded eyes, feel your fingers drag his entire length, pulling at him deliciously slow, thumb catching the eager drops to rub them in, and god, you looked so fucking beautiful, your cheeks all red, eyes glazed over, shiny lips open, alluring sounds coming out of your mouth, drilling through the hot air to him.

“i wish i could just— fuck, dick you down so good, you pretty thing,” he gritted out, his teeth biting into your lips now too then licked over them as an apology and a whine escaped you, “y—yeees, please-ah.”

“but you don’t want to listen,” his fingers plunging deep inside, thumb working your clit, building up your orgasm quick and dirty, fingers skilled at drawing out every inch of lust within you, and when your legs started trembling, when your nose twitched like you were about to sneeze, he pulled away.

your hand slipped out of his pants against your will, and he looked at you, breathing heavily, repeating, “you don’t want to listen.”

“w—wait, hajime, wh—what?”

iwaizumi hajime towered over you; an almost mean glint in his hazed eyes, fingers clenching and unclenching before grabbing the base of your hair, gripping tightly. dull pain bloomed on the back of your head and your neck as he forced you to look up at him.

“i’ve told you to take care so many times. warm up well, rest up well, yet you pretty little brat have to go overboard, huh?”

his fingers tightened, and your mouth opened up slightly, only for his thumb to sneak past your lips to press down on your tongue heavily. you tasted your own self from where he had pleasured you, and you couldn’t even respond because he held your jaw the way he wanted to.

“did i or did i not say that?” hajime asked, “hm, doll?”

using your head, he nodded with his hand holding your mouth, but you found yourself nodding alongside him out of your own volition, too. you wanted him to fuck you, wanted him to claim you, use you, own you. but here he was, still standing there in front of you, his raging hard-on so very inviting. you let out a pitiful sound, but he glared at you in warning.

his thumb slipped out of your mouth, rubbing your lower lip instead, pulling it down to expose your teeth, “mhmm, let me think for a bit on whether you deserve it, yeah?”

“don’t be so mean, hajime.”

“my darling, you haven’t seen me mean yet.”

your mouth curled into a pout, “please, i will be more careful. i’ll do my warm ups, i promise,” and then, because you knew how much he liked hearing you breathe out his name in that sinful tone of yours: “hajime.”

“fuck.”

it was like a dam broke, the way he let go of your hair and face so easily, the way his eyes devoured you, the crash of his mouth on yours, the clashing of teeth, meeting of tongues. hajime stumbled into you, felt how hot you were, sweat already adhering to your body like a second layer of skin as his fingers tugged on your clothing, clearing access, careless because all he could just do right now was have you.

his body pressed all over you, hot breath fanning over you, his hard dick rubbing between the folds, driven by need, eyes meeting yours for a split second before he drove into you. your injured leg hoisted up on his side, in the least possible way of irritating the already strained muscle, making sure to keep it level.

“i’m sorry, baby, i’ll— ah, f-fuuck, i’ll take care of it later,” hajime’s words were so kind, but the way he was groaning, the colour of his voice, the way it rumbled in his chest was dark, floating in the air like gas, suffocating you slowly.

his hips slammed against your skin, and the sound echoed in the room, in your head, the tremor felt throughout your body. 

you were sure your eyes turned upwards in pleasure, whining out his name, clenching on his rapidly moving cock, had you rocking back and forth against the back of the couch, chasing a high you yearned so much. his face was buried in your neck, biting your skin, tasting your lust for him, never stopping. 

feeling arousal swirl in your stomach, you felt the way your core tried to get a hold of him but the pace he set was too fast, too much of a challenge, like all the pent up frustration needed to get out, like his annoyance and his concern over you hurting yourself needed to be fucked out of him and into you.

“haji—hajime.”

his voice was muffled, but you felt the low purr of it against your skin, “m’darling girl, you feel so good, you’re so pre—ah, pretty, nghh, fuck. don’t you— don’t you worry me like that anymore, hear me?”

“yea—h, yeah, yes, yeahh,” baseless affirmations passing your lips, no sense in your words. he could ask you for anything and you would have said yes. gasping for breath, raising your hips, meeting him, pressing messy kisses everywhere, god, you were whipped for iwaizumi hajime. ultimately and completely wrapped around his fingers.

when you came, it was at his command, at the bite of his teeth, at the press of his hands on your stomach, at the same time that he released and filled you up, hips stuttering, lazily plunging into warmth over and over. claiming you with his cum painted all over your skin, pushed back between your folds again.

you wrapped your healthy leg around him to keep him near, to keep him inside and close to you, not ready to part just yet. hajime had never been softer and gentler in setting down your other leg, expert fingers caressing your flesh, tenderly prodding to reassess the injury until he was satisfied.

sighing, he lifted his head, kissing your jaw, the corner of your mouth, capturing your lips into a meek, warm show of affection.

“i’ll clean you up, love, you just sit here and look pretty for me.”

despite that, he took a while to move.

[aerifim]

your boyfriend isn’t necessarily the type to say the words “i love you” up front to your face or even say that he is in love with you around his friends, and although that seems like a red flag to most—you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

it may seem as though that your boyfriend doesn’t love you simply because of his laid back presence majority of the time in school. a lot of your classmates assume that he isn’t a good boyfriend, and often tells you that someone like him doesn’t deserve someone like you. 

“your personalities clash too much!” your classmates would often say. and, while it was true that your personalities were the complete opposite—you wouldn’t say it clashed in the way they thought it did. your personalities actually fit perfectly together, as if they were the two missing pieces in a puzzle. 

and it’s not like your boyfriend is a complete tsundere, either. you believe that he is the sweetest person you’ve ever met in this lifetime, and just because he refuses to show much of his sweet side publicly shouldn’t mean anything. 

your classmates don’t have to know what happens after school-when you leave your last block of the day and go to the school gym to simply watch him practice, waiting for him to finish so the two of you could walk home together. 

your peers don’t have to know that everytime you enter the gym—whether you enter quietly or one of his teammates points your presence out—he starts to get flustered and his whole “tough” demeanour changes.

you often hear his friends teasing him for how whipped he was for you, and while he was in denial, everyone in the room knew that he really was in love. you knew that he was no matter what he said—you saw it in the way his gaze would soften, the way he would stop whatever he was doing just to chat with you, the way he would be so gentle with you compared to the way he would hit the volleyball with such strength and power. 

your boyfriend’s love spoke more through his actions, and it contrasts from his constant teasing remarks. he would offer you his jacket on chilly days without a word or a hint of hesitation, always made sure you had a seat right next to him on the bus, and never failing to remember your favorite snacks or daily cravings. he remembered the biggest and smallest details about you. 

so, at the end of the day, you don’t need to hear a constant “i love you” from him—because you know he loves you through his observant gestures. afterall, actions speak louder than words.

♡  akaashi keiji, tsukishima kei, rintarō suna, kageyama tobio, hajime iwaizumi, miya osamu + your favs 

[cottonlemonade]

Dating Iwaizumi gives you scary dog privileges. Which means you can finally head to the fountain in the park across your apartment building at night and play in the prettily lit water display without having to worry, because your boyfriend is holding your sandals as he watches you having the time of your life. His arms are crossed and in the faint glow of the fountain spotlights you almost can’t see the dreamy smile on his face when you slither over to him on the slippery stone tiles.

“You gotta try it, too! It’s so much fun! - Please?” And he will sigh and roll his eyes but put down your shoes and place his next to them before getting dragged into the unpredictable spouts. You giggle and sigh when the nice cold water runs down your shirt, making it cling to your, in Iwa’s entirely biased opinion, delicious curves. He pulls you in for a kiss, tiny droplets clinging to the tips of his hair.

“Five more minutes, then I’m taking you home.”, he says and you pout but pull him in for another kiss, planning to make the most out of this hot summer night.

[romaevelizz]

.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.

˖ ࣪⊹ He’s the kind of guy to help put and take off your shoes, even if your not drunk, but if your getting ready his large hand wrapping around your ankle as he slips your shoe on next tying the laces or strapping the heels your wearing “Hmm there you go love can’t have you bending over to put them on no?” His voice deep and tender kissing your lips gently.

Ushijima, IWAIZUMI, Daichi, Kuroo, TSUKISHIMA, BOKUTO, TANAKA, Kageyama,

Little reminder rq are open!(im desperate ☹️)

[lale-txt]

EXOPLANETS ; Iwaizumi x gn!reader

five times Iwaizumi almost kisses you and one time he does

contains: gn!reader (no pronouns or gendered terms), strangers to lovers, 5+1 things, fluff, mutual pining, diy tattoos, alcohol mention, weed mention, Oikawa mention, shotgunning, five slightly suggestive lines if you squint, a lot of easter eggs and cross-references. written as a gift for @eggyrocks ♡

word count: 4.5k

✧. ┊ ONE

It’s Kyotani’s birthday party and you’re sitting outside on the fire escape, covered in five buckets of fake blood and rolling yourself a cigarette. The wind is icy on your face and the air would smell like early snow if it wasn’t for the dubious popcorn experiments happening in the kitchen right now. You weren’t allowed to smoke inside anymore after someone set one of the dried up houseplants a little bit on fire when stubbing out a cigarette on it (it was just once but the pot was fuming for two days and a half).

Kyotani always brings a mix of the strangest people together. There’s you and your other fellow students from your gender studies class, then guys from his former highschool volleyball team. There is also a bunch of men with face tattoos and a criminal record from his underground fight club (who are currently nailing the choreo to Rihanna in Just Dance), some nerds he met at a Pokémon TCG tournament (you and him once bought a hundred booster packs together while high and he thought he could recover from the financial ruin by winning one of these things) and the small group of housewives from his DND group who he meets once a month.

It’s unclear why Kyotani asked everyone to dress up for this but you’re not mad about having an occasion to drench yourself in fake blood and call it a night. In true Patrick Bateman fashion you also spent hours with excessive skin care prior to the party while you watched your best friend and roommate Atsumu zip himself up in the skimpiest maid outfit you’ve ever seen. It may be early December but that wouldn’t hold him back from showing off his thighs and a bit of his ass cheeks–maybe at heart he was just a 2000s British party girl trapped in the body of a 6’3 athlete. You shared the same cheap cherry lip gloss before heading out in the cold. 

A few drinks into the night and your head starts to hurt, which is when you retreat outside through the kitchen window to your usual spot on the fire escape. With the rolled cigarette dangling from your lips, you pat down the pockets of your suit in search of a lighter. You let out a frustrated groan when you realize you lent it to two guys dressed as Melody and Kuromi and that you’ll probably never get it back, which sucked because it had a kitty cat leaning on an eight-ball while smoking on it and you got it for free from your local conbini girl in exchange for a hand-crocheted triangle bikini top.

Someone taps your shoulder and you almost drop your cigarette if it wasn’t for the stranger’s quick reflexes, catching it for you before it would be gone with the wind. His fingers tilt your chin up a little and he puts the cigarette back between your lips. You look up and meet the gaze of Inuyasha.

Or well, a guy dressed as Inuyasha, but it might as well be your childhood crush come to life. Tan skin, sharp snaggleteeth that weren’t part of the costume but still fitting, and a pair of eyes that feel like they’re piercing straight through you. Your stomach does the little flip thing and you briefly wonder what was in the drinks you let Atsumu mix for you, but that was something to ponder on later. For now you only stare back at him, nodding when he asks if the seat next to you is free.

He sits down close to you and then reaches for something hidden in his sleeve and pulls out–your lighter. 

“Sorry about my friends. They have a knack for never returning things,” he huffs and you snatch the lighter from him, your face cracking into a smile. 

“Very noble of you,” you say, then hold up the light for him when he reaches for the cigarette behind his ear and puts it between his lips as well. His hand comes to cup yours to shield the flame from the wind and for a second your faces are close, so close, before you lean back again, taking a deep inhale of your cig. 

“Cool costume. You watch a lot of movies? Me too,” he says and rests his chin on one palm, looking at you. There’s something about his gaze that makes you feel drawn to him and you briefly wonder what he’d look like without the cheap white wig and also if he’d keep the costume on if you were to hook up with him and ask him nicely about it. 

“Is that so? Name every movie then,” you retort and it makes him laugh. Fuck. He has a really nice laugh.

You lean over and brush a few strands of the plastic hair behind his ears because the combination of the wind and the lit cigarette seems like a potential fire hazard (you learned a lot about fire hazards this year) and you’d kinda hate to see him combust too soon. 

What you don’t expect is him leaning in, almost nuzzling his face into your palm when you do, and looking back at you with a flicker that can only be described as drunk and lovesick. It makes your heart stumble in your ribcage a little. 

“Or you can just tell me your name. Unless you want me to save your contact as ‘Inuyasha’ in my phone. I can do that too,” you add when you pull your hand away, as if you’ve burned yourself by getting a bit too close to the sun. You put your cigarette between your lips and pull out your phone, tapping the screen a few times before glancing up at him again.

“It’s Iwaizumi. Hajime Iwaizumi.”

You think a lot about kissing Hajime Iwaizumi for the rest of the night.

✧. ┊ TWO

Osamu and Suna share the apartment directly below yours and when they text you that they made weed brownies, you didn’t really think about just how many of them they made. Together with Atsumu you shuffle downstairs, not expecting a bunch of other people to be there. Maybe then you would’ve worn something that wasn’t Atsumu’s old highschool club shirt and a pair of velour track pants you bedazzled yourself so it would read “soup” across your butt, but here you are. 

“Is this some kind of side business now?”, you ask Suna when you pull him aside. He has the biggest, shit-eating grin known to man plastered across his face and shakes his head. 

“A bunch of guys from his culinary school said they didn’t know how to bake weed brownies and Osamu offered to teach them, and somehow it turned into a ‘bring your own weed, get a tray of brownies’ party,” he replies and leans a little closer to you, which you know means he has a piece of juicy gossip to share. “One guy here totally got scammed, too. Spent ¥24,000 on some, can you believe?”

You almost choke on the piece of brownie in your hand. Osamu pressed it faithfully into your palm the moment you entered the kitchen, knowing he could trust you with it. Both of you had a very loose definition of trust–to Osamu it meant believing you won’t be dumb enough to eat more than one piece of the brownies, to you it meant you won’t change the contact names in his phones to soup ingredients again, no matter how high, and you both respected that.

“What, was it gold-dusted or something?” You cough and laugh, tears pricking in the corners of your eyes while Suna pats your back with empathy. “What a guy. Introduce us, I need to add him to my dream blunt rotation.”

Your eyes follow the direction Suna is nodding at, somewhere in the living room, and you meet the gaze of Iwaizumi Hajime slash Inuyasha from the fire escape. You start laughing again and head over to him, the sulk written all over his face.

“Not a word. I know, I know,” he groans when he makes space for you next to him on the couch. You squeeze in beside him and hug your knees to your chest, then catch the pillow he’s throwing at you when you can’t stop laughing the second you look at him.

“It’s okay. Actually, it’s kinda cute.” “Are you just saying that to make me feel better?” “So what if I do?”

Iwaizumi huffs again and his arm just happens to be behind you on the couch, his fingertips ghosting over your shoulder. Appreciate it, he grumbles, and eventually his face softens when you start telling him some anecdotes of your high life that definitely make the ¥24,000 weed purchase seem a little less dramatic. 

It’s loud in the apartment, with music blasting and people chattering, but you barely register any of it; too absorbed by his eyes that dart to your lips every now and then, and his tongue poking out from between his lips when he does, and the rattling desire in your chest that he could kiss you right here, right now. 

His fingers grab your chin and tilt your face up again, just like they did last time on the fire escape, except now he’s brushing over the corners of your mouth, collecting a few crumbs that were still there. He brings them to his lips, licking them off in one clean swipe of his tongue, and you’re pretty sure you’d let him devour you.

✧. ┊ THREE

Mattsun–the Kuromi from Kyotani’s party–and his friends from the forensics science department are hosting an Addams Family themed christmas party on their floor of the dorm and this time you don’t make the mistake of giving your lighter away. Atsumu is on a noble mission to “get laid by one of the goths” and you’re on your own, but not for long. 

“Oh, it’s you! Almost didn’t recognize you without all the fake blood,” Makki–the Melody from Kyotani’s party–shouts across the room when he spots you in the crowd and squeezes past all the people to clink his drink against yours. “You left quite the impression.”

“That so?”, you ask with a raised eyebrow and Makki gives you a boyish grin. You already have a feeling where this conversation is heading.

“Hajime won’t shut up about you. Like, ever,” he says and links his arm with yours, dragging you to the other end of the hallway. “He’s here too, by the way. Last time I saw him he was winning some kind of arm wrestling contest, but if you ask me people just wanted to ogle at his biceps. Can you blame them?” 

Speaking of the devil, you find Iwaizumi stumbling out of the bathroom, stilling when he sees you. His hoodie is tied around his waist and he’s wearing some baggy jeans and a tight, sleeveless compression shirt that does show off his arms nicely. Very nicely. So nicely you forget what to say for a brief second. 

Makki shoves you into Iwaizumi’s arms before heading off somewhere else, probably asking Mattsun to push him against the nearest wall, and you’re alone with the boy again. He caught you by your shoulders, his hands now resting on top of them while he looks you up and down. You wonder if he’ll do the chin thing again, and maybe if third time’s a charm and he’s gonna kiss you tonight for real. 

Instead he asks, “do you want to check out the tattoo station they set up in the other room?” and because your impulse control has vanished the moment you entered his orbit, you agree without a second thought. Maybe not even a first thought. Ten minutes later you’re wearing a pair of black latex gloves and hover over Iwaizumi who is lying shirtless on his back in front of you.

“Kinda sad you don’t want a tramp stamp. It’d look good on you,” you sigh with feigned annoyance while rubbing an alcohol soaked pad over his hip bones to disinfect that part, trying hard to keep your eyes pinned on there, but it’s kind of an impossible thing to ask of you. It would be a shame if you didn’t appreciate the canvas in front of you.

“Maybe next time,” Iwaizumi exclaims with the confidence of a man who simply doesn’t do the whole ordeal of regretting. It’s admirable, really. “And I let you pick the design of this one, didn’t I?”

That he did. You drew a wonky oval shape on the stencil paper which was kind of impressive as it was, given the drinks you had prior to that. Iwaizumi took the pencil from you and added a similar one, overlapping with yours. 

“That’s two eggs,” you muttered, tilting your head to the side and trying hard to focus–which again, was a hard task at hand, given that Iwaizumi leaned over your shoulder shirtless. He smelled nice. You noticed that the first time you met already. Something between fresh laundry, a spritzer of YSL Y on the side of his nape and a hint of sweat, but not unpleasant. It made you want to dig your teeth into the curve of his neck and shoulder.

“It’s a heart, dumbass,” Iwaizumi huffed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, second to how much both of you were thinking about kissing the other. 

✧. ┊ FOUR

When Kenma invited you over to his place for the Bouncing Ball winter party, you were promised free unlimited food and a goodie bag, but all you got was ancient rage and a badly rolled cigarette passed back and forth between Iwaizumi and you.

“I will fucking kill Oikawa with my bare hands,” you mutter under your breath and squeeze the can of lychee soda (branded with the Bouncing Ball logo) that you’re holding a little tighter. 

“Believe me, I’ve tried many times in the past but this bastard always comes back. Like some demon lord or something.” Iwaizumi takes an angry drag of the cigarette before holding it between your lips again. His fingers brush lightly against your skin when he does and it’s the only thing that calms you down a little. 

“Like. The blue shell right before the finish line felt so personal, right?”

Kenma had sent both of you into timeout outside when you almost flung the unstrapped Wii remote towards the flatscreen and Iwaizumi might or might have not punched a hole into the shoji door after Oikawa won the third round of Mario Kart in a row and was being awfully smug about it.

You’re sitting on the backstairs together, huddled close to each other from the cold and the unspoken desire to kiss the other one stupid. With every minute you spend like this your anger vaporizes little by little, until all you can feel is the body heat radiating off Iwaizumi’s body and how calloused his hand is when he takes yours into his.

He’s wearing the hat you crocheted for him, an apology for the crooked hand poked tattoo you gave him a few days prior to today which now adorned his hip bone. At least it wasn’t infected which was a tiny miracle given the circumstances. His face lit up when you handed the hat to him, wrapped in some tin foil because neither you nor Atsumu own gift paper and that’s the most festive you could do with the utensils you had at hand. At least you threw in a little bit of confetti which was now stuck in his dark hair.

You pick some of it off his strands and Iwaizumi leans a little closer. It reminds you a lot of a big cat asking for head scratches. 

“‘s nice, with you,” he mumbles without looking at you and gives your hand a small squeeze. His thumb rubs over your knuckles with unexpected gentleness and your head sinks against his shoulder.

“Really nice,” you agree quietly, allowing yourself to close your eyes. 

The moment could have been perfect. Just the two of you, the stubbed out cigarette at your feet and the sweet taste of artificial lychee on your lips, the slowly falling snow. If only it wasn’t for the backdoor being flung open again, carrying the chatter and the music from inside towards you and a too familiar voice that will surely haunt your nightmares chirping “yahoo~”, making Iwaizumi next to you groan in agony. 

You spend the rest of the night losing another ten rounds of Mario Kart and Oikawa manifests as your sleep paralysis demon from now on, but at least you got to hold Iwaizumi’s hand under the table a little longer.

✧. ┊ FIVE

Hinata is back home from his semester abroad in Brazil. He texted the groupchat a photo of him (wow, he got really tan and buff, you think) and the three giant boxes of oranges that he brought with him and invited everyone over for an impromptu reunion party at his place. 

It’s not as excessive as other parties of your friends, more of a get together that lasts an entire weekend with everyone dropping by and going as they please, as long as they take a few oranges with them. 

You quite literally ran into Iwaizumi on your way there, your hands full with a bunch of books you borrowed from the library prior to that and him almost crashing into you when he skated around the corner on his longboard. He wore the hat you crocheted him again (with less confetti this time) and offered you his scarf and a ride. You almost wish Hinata would live at the other end of the world just so you’d have an excuse to sit cross-legged on his board in front of him while he pushes it slowly for a little longer. 

Maybe he’ll give you a ride home if you ask him nicely. Maybe the right words would fall out of your mouth this time. Maybe he’ll kiss you on the threshold, with his fingers tracing your jaw and your lips parting for him so willingly.

At Hinata’s place you find your way underneath the kotatsu with Iwaizumi by your side. The air smells like hot punch and christmas cookies and you listen for hours to Hinata talking about the things he experienced while abroad. You swipe through photos on his tablet while around you people come and go, and the entire time Iwaizumi sits so close to you that your knees keep touching underneath the table. Occasionally his hand brushes over the small of your back or pulls you a little closer towards him when someone else squeezes beside you, his touch lingering but never overbearing. 

It’s getting late and you should probably go home soon, considering the last looming deadline you still had to tackle before your winter break, but it’s not easy to peel yourself away from Iwaizumi. Not when he draped his jacket over your shoulders and his fingers brushed the nape of your neck, and especially not when he starts peeling oranges for you and starts pushing the slices directly between your lips when you’re too lazy to lift your head. 

You watch him quietly as he does, his fingers that are usually a little bruised and roughed up now impossibly gentle as he digs through the citrus skin, peeling away layer after layer. It’s beautiful, you think. He’s beautiful. You wonder if he could do the same to you, tearing through every bit of resistance you put up to protect your heart, or maybe if it was already bare in front of him the entire time, ready for him to sink his teeth into your flesh.

You hope he’ll peel a thousand more oranges for you in this lifetime.

✧. ┊ ONE, AGAIN

It’s winter solstice and Atsumu and you decide to host one last party at your home before the year ends. Together you go out to buy liquor and one mistletoe (for the festive spark of it all) but the lady from the flower store insists you take all of them for free since they’re closing soon and she would throw them out anyway. So now there’s around fifty mistletoes hanging from every ceiling of your apartment and the entire hallway of your floor, and you briefly wonder just how many mistletoes it would take for Iwaizumi to kiss you tonight.

Osamu begrudgingly agrees to prepare some food since you’d end up raiding their fridge around 2AM anyway if he doesn’t, meanwhile Suna shows you some paparazzi-esque photos on his phone that he took of Iwaizumi and you over the span of this month. For once you’re grateful that he snaps a photo of everything and everyone, because swiping through these makes your heart do a little flip in your chest.

There’s one with both of you smoking on the fire escape, leaning in close to catch the flame of the lighter. You with your legs thrown over his lap on their couch while waiting for the weed brownies, his arm resting behind you on the couch. The moment when Iwaizumi takes his tight compression shirt off in front of you (it’s slightly blurry and Suna blames it on the goths and their shitty lighting). Iwaizumi and you pinning Oikawa to the floor and a Wii controller on the verge of becoming a murder weapon. You napping with your head on top of your folded arms, a plate with some orange peel in front of you, Iwaizumi’s hand in the back of your neck while looking down at you fondly. 

To be adored by Iwaizumi Hajime feels tender and mellow. There’s something magical about it; never loud or overwhelming, and yet never leaving room for doubt how he does love you with his entire being. It comes to him as natural as breathing. A love as toasty warm like a black cat basking in the sun, storing sunshine in every fibre of your soul. 

When you open the door for him later that night, he hugs you longer than usual, his arms caging you in his embrace. He murmurs something about all these mistletoes against the shell of your ear and you laugh.

“I think it’s a dumb tradition, but they’re quite beautiful, aren't they?”, you ask and Iwaizumi pulls back slightly to look at you, his hand cupping one side of your face now. 

“More than just beautiful,” he mumbles, not talking about the mistletoes.

You learn that night that Iwaizumi doesn’t dance (other than Oikawa and Atsumu who are currently destroying the Dance Dance Revolution dance pads in the living room), but he’ll happily spend hours watching you do your DJ thing. Anything as long as he can be in your proximity. He’s leaning back in the chair in the corner behind your pult, a cold Tiger beer in one hand, his chin resting on the other and his gaze never leaving you. It’s like he’s your personal bouncer for the night. You quite like that. It’s an oddly protective gesture but it makes you feel warm and giddy. 

“Someone just asked me if they can snort protein powder off my biceps,” he tells you when you return from the bathroom back to his side. He holds up a cigarette he rolled for you meanwhile. You lean down and let him put it between your lips before he reaches for your lighter stored in his pocket. 

“And did you let them?”, you ask, your face illuminated for the flick of a second when he lights up the cigarette for you. You’re standing between his spread legs and Iwaizumi reaches for your hips, making you stumble a little closer to where he was sitting. His chest is heaving now, his pupils dilating when he lets his eyes wander over you. You’ve seen this expression before, you think. It’s been the same from when you touched him for the first time, back then on the fire escape.

“Told them I was already taken,” he murmurs, almost not audible, and even in the dim light you can see the tip of his ears dusted in a dark pink color. His eyes flick up to yours and his expression is something between pleading and demanding. Oh. 

How brazen. 

He lets out a labored breath when you push him back in his chair, making room for you to straddle his hips. His hands find your thighs, fingers digging into your supple flesh and it’s clear that he doesn’t plan on letting you go for the rest of the night. Or, forever maybe.

You take a long drag of your cigarette and this time it’s you cupping his chin, tilting it up and hovering above him. Iwaizumi doesn’t need to be told what to do, his head falling back, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly before he parts his lips and lets you blow a mouthful of smoke into his lungs. It’s greedy, how he swallows it so willingly, watching you through half-lidded eyes. Hungry. Begging. Adoring. 

He’s in love with you like no one else ever was. 

“I need to kiss you or else I’m going insane.” 

His voice is hoarse, strained. As if he is clinging to the last bit of his resistance and sanity. In one swift movement he snatches the cigarette from your lips with one hand and carelessly drowns it in his half-empty beer bottle, his other hand wraps around the back of your neck and pulls you closer to him again.

“Please,” he huffs and it sounds like he’s pierced with ten swords, in agony over not feeling your lips against his. “Pretty please.” 

Your arms wrap around him and you kiss him. During the longest night of the year it’s like the sun is rising just for you. You don’t think, just let the feeling wash over you as your body melts against his. Iwaizumi lets out a quiet growl and kisses you back, gently at first, until your tongue slides against his and his calloused hands against your bare skin start trembling slightly. He’s using every ounce of self-restraint so he wouldn’t devour you on the spot. He knows you’d let him and that is a problem. 

“Took you long enough,” you mumble against his lips once you pull apart to breathe, which could have been an hour later or a lifetime. Time becomes a blur under the soft caress of Iwaizumi. He mirrors your smug smile, stealing another kiss from your lips.

“I’ll make up for it,” he rasps, closing his eyes when you rest your forehead against his. His hands on your waist pull you impossibly closer again, his fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt, caressing the sliver of skin there. He lets out a quiet hum, a sound very close to purring. “Gonna kiss you stupid till you forget your own name and can only remember mine.”

“Silly,” you huff back and kiss him again. “Is this a threat or a promise?”

“Both. With you, it’s both.”

a/n: hi eggy ily!! your wishlist was spectacular and i had a lot of fun writing this for you (at some point it got a little out of hand i'll admit lmao). hope you enjoyed your gift and that the rest of your 2024 will be warm and tender. trying not to get sappy here, just know you always leave such a mark with anything you write, it's something i deeply admire. happy holidays & all the love for you <3

[rinsoap]

SONGS THEY LOVE TO MAKE OUT TO!

✿²˖ ࣪ ➣ includes : suna rintaro. iwaizumi hajime. atsumu miya.

note : me after incorporating my music hyperfixation into all my works. also can u tell im so obsessed with all of these men's arms n hands.

SUNA RINTARO: REDBONE BY CHILDISH GAMBINO

makeouts with suna are always distracting you. this night was no different except for the fact that you're on the floor. well, you're sittting on the rug beside his bed that's pushed up to the wall. he's sitting against it, and you're in his lap facing him. you're on your phone, not paying attention to the boy directly in front of you, too busy trying to instruct one of your project partners on how to use microsoft. suna is not usually jealous. who cares if someone's into you? it's not like they have a chance. you never entertain them anyways. he just misses you. he was out of the city for a week for an away game, and he's hardly kissed you since he left. he's had awaken, my love! by childish gambino playing for a while now, head lolling back on the bed, bored out of his mind. "babyyyy" he hums in complaint after you giggle at your phone. "hold on rin, i'm almost done... god these people are so stupid, i swear i'm literally carrying this project" you roll your eyes as your fingers fly across the screen, the tapping filling the silence until your boyfriend groans and brings his head up to look at your pretty face. the intro of redbone kicks in, and his mind starts racing, thinking about all the times he's kissed your lips to this song. his hand snakes around your waist, and you feel his thumb start tracing hearts into your skin. "you're too pretty to be worrying about school," suna pouts, "you should pay attention to... other things..." his suspicious trail off causing your eyes to flick to his face, but before you could find his eye contact, he was planting kisses onto your neck. "rin," you whine, winding up to tell him off, but he makes his way up to your jaw, grinning against your cheek when you catch his eye. "rin i can't..." you sigh, incredibly receptive to his touch despite your words, dropping your phone still open on your messages to wrap your arms around his shoulders. "you just look so beautiful, can’t stop myself," he mumbles before pressing his lips against yours, hands making their way to hold the dip between your jaw and neck. you lean into his desperate kiss, and when your fingers carress the nape of his neck, you feel him smile. "missed you so much baby"

IWAIZUMI HAJIME: NIGHTS BY FRANK OCEAN

makeouts with iwaizumi always start out polite. it's always just one kiss, something casual, until he starts getting needier. you had dragged your boyfriend into another late afternoon nap, him shirtless, and you wearing one of his faded graphic t-shirts. you're woken by the sunlight beaming through iwaizumi's ineffective blinds. his arm is lazily holding you and he's laying on his stomach, you're on your back. you place your hand on his forearm and hum along to the end of hold on by the internet. you had forgotten you put on a playlist. you hear iwaizumi grunt and you giggle. "you awake finally?" he teases, turning on his side to face you and you do the same. "take a guess, genius" you quip back and he tsks. he doesn't say anything though, chest to chest and noses touching, he just stares into your eyes. sometimes he wakes up with you next to him and he is baffled at how he managed to pull someone as gorgeous as you. his eyes only break from yours to flick to your lips, and you can tell he's trying to be discreet by the way they immediately dart back. the song changes, and you both smile at each other knowingly. you were about to exclaim that he should just kiss you, but he interrupts that thought to oblige, and your face goes hot. his kisses still gave you butterflies despite being with him for so long. you kiss him back, matching the way he deepens it, hands over your hips as he pulls you onto him. you gasp at the sudden nature of it, and he grins against your mouth. you break free and move your hands from the sides of his face to his bare chest, but he pulls you closer to kiss up your shoulder and your collarbones and ultimately brings you back to kiss him. as the beat switches, his strong arms hold you tighter, closing whatever distance the two of you might have had before. he groans in your mouth when your hands tangle in his hair, tugging on it slightly when he quietly mumbles, "i love you". he could kiss you all day if he could, and he acts like it.

MIYA ATSUMU: ONE NIGHT ONLY BY SONDER

makeouts with atsumu are intense and frequent. he loves pda, he's the type of guy to use any excuse to show off his girl, and is that such a crime?! he needs to stop kissing you at parties though, i fear you've become that couple. you were both a little tipsy, and when atsumu drinks, he can't take his hands off of you. so when he started kissing on your neck, you rushed him to the bathroom to avert everyone's eyes from the pda. you shut the door behind you, and atsumu quickly takes the opportunity to close the distance between you two until he had you pressed against the door. "oh, hey," you say with a sarcastic smirk that he matches. "hi baby," he bites his lip, looking you up and down and then back to your eyes, "you look so fucking good... i couldn't stop looking at ya, princess" he knows he's not subtle. your heart beats to the bass of the song playing through the door as he cups your cheeks in his big hands. he leans in to kiss you fervently, leaving you breathless and almost as needy as him. his hands thread through your hair and yours do the same as he nips at your lips playfully. you giggle and he pulls back just enough to speak, resting his forehead on yours. "you're so perfect" is all he says before he starts peppering you face and neck with soft kisses, working his way up back to your lips to capture you in a kiss much more intense comparatively. his hands roam your back, and you melt into his touch as the two of you intertwine. the world fades away, it's just you and him and the song. "hey are y'all done in there or what?" osamu knocks irritably, gladly interrupting you much to both of your displeasure. you laugh, and atsumu rolls his eyes. "yeah yeah whatever," he calls out, planting one last kiss on your cheek before you drag him out of the bathroom, "this will be continued later, promise you baby" he's so corny

[clawsdevour]

pacing

wc: 0.2k content warning: post-time skip, established relationship, iwaizumi x reader, smut, not proofread

ョ˒ 𓈒 ..

hajime, the type of man to go at a turtle's pace the moment he enters a centimeter of his tip inside your gripping plush walls. the girth that scratches upon the tightness leaving you both breathless as he continues to ease himself inside.

cursing under his hot breath till his pelvis hit yours, coming to a halt for fresh air as his deep eyebrows furrow in suppressed stimulation. recollecting himself while his hips move themselves, gradually shoving you full to the brim of him.

the slow pace thrusts always drive you crazy. the satisfying length that leaves and enters, prodding at your sensitive spots that leave you agasped and clawing at his broad muscular back.

purring out his name inbetween every movement, feeling the closeness reach out from within as you moaned louder each time. the stimulation was so good it had you begging for iwaizumi to go harder and faster.

obeying your request, he ends up making you forget your own name.

masterlist here