#haikyuucreations 0720 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mimi-cee-hq · 4 years

Text

Every Season - Kyoutani x Reader

Pairing: Kyoutani x f!Reader

Summary: Kyoutani finally introduces Y/n to the team. When they all comment on how he got such a sweet and innocent girlfriend, Kyoutani lets out a snort. A cute and funny getting together story of different kisses throughout the years and seasons.

Genre and Tropes: Cute childhood friends fluff!

Words: 2,218

This is for the July HQWN monthly prompt event. I'm using the International Kissing Day prompt.

Author's Notes: This is a match-up story for an anon. Thanks to @kingkags for beta reading the first half of the story. :)

To anon, I don't think I captured your personality very well because I only write PG. loll. I tried to keep the main aspects of your description, so I hope you still like it. >.<

*****

“I still can’t believe that’s Mad Dog’s girlfriend.”

There were crackles from the meat cooking at the neighbouring table. Y/n lit the barbeque for their own table as she welcomed them. The entire team was curious to see what sort of girl Kyoutani was dating so Yahaba and Watari decided on her family's restaurant when they organized a graduation party for the third years.

Y/n smiled at the boys, “What would you like to order?”

The large bow in her hair bounced as she nodded, taking their orders. After she went through the list she wrote, confirming their preferences, she pushed up her round glasses with her knuckles before she left to process the order.

After Oikawa finished gawking at her, he turned to Kyoutani and asked, “How the heck did you end up with such a sweet and innocent girlfriend?”

Kyoutani, just when he was about to sip his drink, let out a snort instead. They were lucky. If the drink was in his mouth, it would have ended up in their faces.

*****

A tiny young girl stood in front of Kyoutani in the living room of her house. “Kyoutani, this is Y/n,” her mother introduced her to the five-year-old boy.

Y/n gave him a sweet smile and waved at him. “It’s nice to meet you, Kyo-chan.” The black bow in her hair slightly shifted as she gave him a small polite nod.

Kyoutani jumped back a couple of feet, clutching his mom’s shirt once he was at her side. He gave a low growl as he glared at her. He had a feeling he should be weary of her.

“Ooo,” Y/n cooed. “Can we keep him?” she asked her mom, giggling.

“What?”

“He’s so cute!” Y/n told her. “He’s like a puppy!”

“He’s not a dog!” Y/n’s mom scolded her.

Kyoutani continued to scowl at Y/n. When his mom left his side, he tensed up, and retreated to the far side of a couch. He gritted his teeth and sat with all fours on a cushion, not allowing his eyes to leave Y/n’s even as their mothers walked out of the room.

Y/n ran to her well-worn toy box and stuck her head in. After she searched through it, she told him, “Look, Kyo-chan!” She held up a bright red leaf. “I have one for you too!” she said, revealing a second one. She continued to share about how she picked them up a few days ago when she marvelled at the trees turning into various shades of reds, yellows, and oranges.

Kyoutani, with his hands still tense, inched closer towards Y/n. Once beside her, he took the leaf from her hand. Staring at the intricate veins on the red leaf, he noted that it was whole and not bent or damaged. His eyes grew as he stared in awe, his scowl finally disappearing and his eyebrows relaxed.

“It’s pretty—,” he started to say. But just as he tilted his head up to look at Y/n, her face was right in front of his. And then she stole a kiss from him.

She giggled.

Kyoutani jumped back, cheeks red and ears flaring. Seeing his reaction, Y/n fell on the floor laughing.

Clenching his teeth, he knew he should have trusted his instincts and shouldn’t have let his guard down. He wouldn’t be tricked again.

“Mommy! Kyo-chan bit me!”

*****

“It’s your turn,” Kyoutani told Y/n with a smirk. He was one pair of cards ahead of her in their game of Go Fish, but she didn't give up yet.

Y/n’s mom was watching the two kids play through the opened sliding door to their backyard. A cool spring breeze would sometimes enter the kitchen as she prepared some kimchi for a future meal. She could see the two sitting on an outdoor mat as they continued taking turns removing a card from the other’s hand.

Now at eight-years-old, Kyoutani would often be at Y/n’s house whenever his parents needed a babysitter. He still didn’t exactly like Y/n, but he didn’t have much of a choice.

At first he wouldn’t even talk to her. He would sit at the couch, cautious of Y/n’s every move, waiting for his parents to come back. But Y/n’s parents were kind to him. They noticed Kyoutani’s discomfort so sometimes her dad would take him out of the house. Some days it would be for ice cream. Other days they’d grab a burger. He even brought Kyoutani to a volleyball game once. But over this past year, Kyoutani finally got along with Y/n - or at least enough to get through a couple of games.

Kyoutani eyed at the two cards in Y/n’s hand, wearing his perpetual scowl. He licked his lips just before he grabbed a card from Y/n. He placed his pair of cards on the mat with a smirk. He won.

“You cheated!” Y/n accused him. Kyoutani rolled his eyes, accustomed with Y/n’s inability to lose. “I demand a rematch!”

“Hmph,” Kyoutani crossed his arms, scowling as he looked away.

Y/n’s mom sighed and shook her head. “When are they finally going to get along,” she commented to herself.

“We do get along!” Y/n told her mom. As if to prove her point, she quickly leaned towards Kyoutani to give him a peck on his cheek.

He flinched and shuffled away from Y/n, grimacing at her gesture. She laughed at his reaction as usual.

“What did I tell you about kissing Kyoutani!” her mom scolded her. “You’re torturing the poor boy!”

“But I only kissed his cheek this time!”

As Y/n continued to argue with her mom, Kyoutani attempted to scratch the cooties off his cheek, unaware of the red hue on his face.

*****

Kyoutani got out of bed after hearing pebbles tapping his bedroom window. He pushed the curtains open to see Y/n below, standing in front of his house. After nearly seven years of knowing her, she still does things that he could never predict. He groaned as he watched her breathe into her palms and rub them together. There was no snow on the ground, yet it was cold enough to see her breath. Y/n wore earmuffs which matched the signature black bow in her hair.

When he let her in, she threw off her scarf and earmuffs, letting out a big yawn before curling up on his living room couch.

“Why are you here when you're so tired?” Kyoutani asked her.

“I stayed up last night to finish up that history project with Kimiko,” she replied, not quite answering his question. “I shouldn’t have paired up with her,” she laughed. “She thought I was smart because I worked hard. But I thought she was smart because she hung out with the smart kids.”

Kyoutani smirked, taking a seat at her feet as she lay on the couch.

“Turns out we both share a brain cell,” she giggled. “Kimiko is fun but she’s too much of a clown. We get so distracted when we’re together. I don't know if we'll get an A." She groaned. "Remind me to never do a project with her again.”

“Never do a project with her again,” Kyoutani plainly told her with a smirk.

Y/n rolled her eyes and then jabbed his side with her toes. Kyoutani jerked away from her feet and shoved them away.

Y/n sat up beside him and hugged her legs. She turned to look at him and said, “Don’t you wish we were in the same class so we could study together?”

Kyoutani feigned disgust at the thought.

��Hm?” she prodded as she batted her eyes at him. When she leaned in closer to him, pretending to kiss him, Kyoutani pushed her face away with his whole palm. She pouted, then got up to finally open the paper gift bag she brought with her.

“I have something for you.” She pulled out her notebook, pieces of coloured paper peeking out of the edges. She stood in front of him, revealing the notebook’s cover. Y/n had pasted together a picture of the two of them with the words “Happy 12th birthday” written underneath in her handwriting.

Kyoutani blinked a couple of times, not knowing what to say. His shoulders relaxed, still staring at the scrapbook.

“I know it’s still a few hours until your birthday, but I didn’t want to miss it—”

Kyoutani wrapped his arms around her. He felt her tense up before she started to pat his head.

Kyoutani had a rough day. He heard his teammates talking behind his back again. He didn't care to be their friends, but he at least longed for a team where he felt like he was wanted.

Y/n kissed his hair and hugged his head. Kyoutani sighed, deciding this was enough for now. He could be a lone wolf with volleyball knowing he didn't have to be one with her.

*****

Textbooks, pens and notebooks covered the kitchen table. Y/n dropped her head on her notes, exhausted from studying.

“I’m just going to close my eyes for a bit,” she told Kyoutani. “Wake me up if I actually fall asleep.”

“Why don’t you just go home?” he replied as he scrunched his brows, still glaring at the words in his textbook.

“Because I'll fail the test tomorrow.”

Kyoutani glanced at Y/n, her necklace catching his eye. Its pendant dangled as she stirred with her eyes still closed.

“Where’s your uniform's bow?”

“I threw it out.”

“What?”

“I know,” she yawned. “But it doesn't match this bow,” she said, pointing to her hair. “And I like this necklace.”

“Whatever.” Kyoutani didn’t bother. He knew the teachers would let her get away with it anyway. Even if they asked about her modification, she would just claim she lost it.

Kyoutani checked his phone. It was July 6, one of the days Y/n used as an excuse to flirt with him. He frowned, knowing that lately, he wasn't the only person she teased.

They entered high school that year. With new faces, students were eager to get to know each other. Some looked to make new friends while others searched for dating potentials. So there was one guy who made a pass on Y/n, and as they got to know each other, Y/n started to tease and flirt with him too.

Whenever Kyoutani saw them together, he shoved the guy aside and took Y/n with him. Y/n would prod him, asking if he was jealous. He denied it every time. He knew she wasn't serious when she flirted. She just liked getting a reaction.

Like with him.

He sighed at his unrequited feelings, pondering the pointlessness of them. It was pathetic. Gazing at Y/n shut eyelids, he wondered if he should put his feelings to rest too.

“I’m awake!” Y/n exclaimed, popping her head up and causing Kyoutani to flinch. He relaxed when she plopped her head back on the table. She turned to Kyoutani, staring at him. Kyoutani blinked a few times, wondering if she was going to say something. She did.

“Kyo-chan, you’re so pretty.”

Kyoutani rolled his eyes, knowing she was in her loopy mode and definitely too sleepy. “You should go home now.”

“Noooo~ I don’t want to.”

He rubbed his head, not knowing what to do with her. “Ugh, just go already,” he complained, grabbing her arm.

“But I want to stay with you,” she replied. He scoffed, shoving her arm back to her, before she continued. “I love you, Kyo-chan.”

Kyoutani choked up a bit. Did she really mean that? He studied her eyes, realizing she was serious. But his doubts still lingered, hesitant to reply.

He went for it. He didn't care anymore. He took this opening, hoping to keep his feelings alive and awake.

So he swooped in to give her a deep kiss, finally releasing the months - no, probably years - of longing for her. And she returned it.

After they broke apart, she commented with a smirk, "Did you remember it was international kissing day?"

"No, I forgot," he lied, going for another kiss.

*****

"I can't believe Yahaba got sick and missed this," whispered Oikawa.

"Yeah," Iwaizumi replied with a smirk. "He was the one who was curious about her the most."

Kyoutani watched Y/n as she came back to their table. She took the seat beside him and snuggled up against him when he placed his arm around her. She puckered her lips, asking for a kiss. Kyoutani gave a snort and rolled his eyes. But upon seeing her frown, he decided to give her a peck anyway.

"Ewww...," Hanamaki teased them.

"PDA! PDA!" Matsukawa chanted.

Kyoutani glared at them while Y/n giggled at his reaction like usual.

*****

Bonus/ Preview

Their team's manager fidgeted at the table, glancing at her wrist after scanning the restaurant. "Kindaichi," she whispered, nudging him. "Where's Kunimi?"

"He said his mom needed him for something."

"Oh," was all that came out of her lips. It seemed like she would have to wait until the new school year to see him again.

*****

Author's Notes:

I hope you liked it. :) I can't believe I was able to make a cute story for Kyoutani. lollll.

Also, their team manager is Y/n from WWYTF SMAU (completed) and Kimiko is Y/n from my Yahaba fic. Now a bunch of my fics are in the same world because I thought it would be fun. lol! (FYI, that wasn't the real reason why Kunimi wasn't there.)

*****

Matchup request description from anonymous: (For the longest time, I didn't know what to do with this. lol. I'm sorry I took so long to write this.)

Hi ^^ I like your writing and saw you were taking match up requests. I'm a small korean girl under 5ft. I have black wavy hair that is barely above my shoulders but I tie it back half up half down style with a black bow uwu. I also have wispy bangs with a round face and a small nose. I have round circle glasses that fall down cause of my small nose. In my spare time I do art. I usually paint, scrapbook, and edit. If I'm with friends I play card games but I get kinda competitive 💫

💫When I get comfortable with someone I start to become more of myself. In school I work really hard so people assume I'm smart. I also watch my words so people think I'm sweet and innocent. That's the complete opposite with my friends. I tend to flirt with them so I end up saying sexual things. And I won't hesitate to put my friends in pain by speaking uwu. With my 0 braincells I decided I would do anything almost anything for the aesthetic. Breaking dress code is one of them. 💫

Taglist: @dorkyama @the-black-birb @hqprotectionsquad @nagichi-kenma @moonaaluna @muffins-puffins (let me know if you want to be added or removed)

719 notes · View notes

megalodon-writes · 4 years

Text

Kissing Keishin

Paring - Keishin Ukai x gn!Reader

Word Count - 689

Genre - fluff!! so sweet it’ll hurt your teeth :)

Synopsis - What kissing Keishin Ukai is like

Prompt - International Kissing Day — write about an important kiss. There are countless ways to kiss someone- what’s your character’s favorite? From platonic to the more deeply intimate, it’s hard to consider them all. Was their first kiss an utter disaster, or one for the hall of fame? Do they prefer chaste kisses on the cheek, or to wait until they’re alone for something more romantic?

a/n - I wanted to write this story for a while because the title had been running through my brain. So! When I saw this prompt I decided to write it! .... again... for the prompt event I have chosen ‘piss colored hair’ man. I blame @hunntea

Keishin Ukai had so many different types of kisses that he always took you by surprise. Sometimes when the two of you were cuddling, he would press his lips to your forehead in the sweetest kiss. Other times he would kiss the tip of your nose and chuckle at how your face twitched from the light contact. It was the small kisses he would give your hands that made your heart flutter, especially when he took the time to kiss every knuckle. The way he would look up at you with so much love left you speechless on more than one occasion. Often, he would give your cheek a little kiss too. Those were special because they were quick, but you knew he was thinking about you.

Kissing Keishin was like falling asleep in the sunny spot on the couch, or the smell of freshly baked bread. It was so warm and comforting to be pressed up against him that you often forgot how long the two of you were together. His lips were always so soft but firm, every kiss feeling as if he was putting his entire soul behind each one. You were never a fan of using a lot of tongue while kissing, but he knew exactly the right amount to leave you breathless and craving more. When you first started dating, he was like a need you couldn’t satisfy, no matter how much of him you had.

You loved all his kisses, but your favorite ones were more intimate and usually happened when no one else was around. Nothing super scandalous, but you loved the way his lips grazed your collarbones and the little pecks he gave your stomach. Those probably were at the top of your list simply because when the two of you were alone, the stress of the day would slowly slip away and you didn’t have to worry about anything. You existed together in your own world, and let the comforting arms of your significant other engulf you.

“Babe?” Keishin said, shaking his hand on your thigh slightly. “You okay?”

“Oh.” You blinked several times. “Sorry, got lost in thought.”

“Hmm.. what were you thinking about?” He hummed, nibbling your earlobe slightly.

“Keishin!” You lightly patted his chest as he chuckled. “I was thinking about what my favorite kiss of ours was.” He smiled and kissed you quickly.

“I bet it was that one, huh?” You rolled your eyes and laid your hands on his cheeks.

“No, that was kinda subpar.” You grinned as his smile fell.

“My kisses are great, are you kidding me?” He scrunched his nose. “Fine, then what’s your favorite?”

“It was the kiss when you pulled me up onto the couch so I was standing just above eye level with you. Your hands were shaking a little bit and it made me so happy.”

“That was our first kiss.”

“You’ve gotta admit, it was incredible. After you left I couldn’t get the stupid grin off my face for the next two hours. We fit so well together that it just made me giddy.”

“I felt the same way.” He breathed. “You make me so happy.” He laid his forehead against yours as you pulled his hand up to kiss it.

“What’s your favorite kiss then?” He hesitated slightly before opening his mouth.

“Can I do something real quick?” You nodded after raising an eyebrow. He leaned over to you and placed a kiss on your lips. “That one.”

“I’m sorry, why is that one your favorite? We’ve shared so many more meaningful-” He kissed you again.

“Now that one is my favorite.” A smile slowly started creeping across his face. He planted his mouth firmly against yours and let his tongue lightly slide along your lip in another kiss. “That’s my favorite.”

“You have to choose one.” You laughed breathlessly.

“I don’t have a favorite kiss because they all are. I love kissing you, and each time I get to do it I feel like the luckiest man in the world.”

“That’s really cheesy... I love it.”

“Well, I love you.”

“I love you too, Keishin.”

taglist: @kxgeyamasmilk @kneeshinoya @namyari @kingkagss @oyakags @cosmictooru @yams046 @shouyouwrites @hanibuni @makkihoe @over5feettall @spicyness @janellion @j-brielmalfoy @spriteandnicotine @shoyosun @dorkyama @sushimii @kingkags @loneveenas @mimi-cee-hq @estherwritess @tamcitrus if you want added, click here! if you want off, just let me know :)

#haikyuuwriters 0720 #haikyuucreations #haikyuucreations 0720 #haikyuu #hq #haikyuu ukai #keishin ukai #ukai x reader #keishin ukai x reader #haikyuu!!#fluff #ukai fluff #ukai one shot #ukai drabble #ukai scenario #this maybe was inspired by true events #i love my mans 💙

113 notes · View notes

tamcitrus · 4 years

Text

Plans.

pairing | Akaashi Keiji x f!reader

words | ~1800

genre | aged up characters, romance

warnings | mentions of a fight

a/n: this is for July MPE <3

Prompt: “A” has had their first kiss with “B” planned out perfectly for weeks- and they aren't going to let anything ruin those plans.

Akaashi would never understand how he ended up like this. Nevertheless, he was there every morning observing you. Not that he was there because of you -he wasn't a stalker or something-, you were an interesting addition to his routine. Every since Kuroo and Bokuto opened their own gym, Kenma and himself were around a lot. Kenma never worked out, never, even though they were there everyday. Akaashi started working out a few times a week until he finally found a light routine he could repeat everyday without feeling tired or gaining too much muscle.

Kuroo and Bokuto had a room on the left end of the gym and they never really knew what to do with it.

"I have a friend," Kenma said. "Maybe she'll be interested."

And he didn't explain any further. But you were there with Kenma next morning, you were a dancer and you were looking for a place to use to teach. That's how you entered his life, through his friends. He knew since day one he was gonna end loving you, even though he didn't admit it when you asked. Bokuto told him that too after some time: she's perfect for you Akaashi!

So, he started planning. He had to know how to confess in the perfect way, to see you smile like you smiled at him every morning when you arrived to the gym, to kiss your cheek and see you blush before kissing your lips.

He liked to see you practice. He found a spot where he could work out and see you at the same time. You looked so confident and strong, but so delicate at the same time when you danced. He liked that duality.

"If you keep drooling like this you'll have to clean the floor, Akaashi-sensei," Kuroo's voice brought him back to reality. "Are you gonna confess? It's been almost a year since y/n started working here."

"I'm planning to. And I'm not drooling," he whispered and looked aside, not to you or his friend.

"It's her birthday soon, you should ask her out before that. I know many people who'd like to date her," Tetsurou sat by his side and observed you dancing too.

"I don't see the relation between her birthday and the other things."

"People will use her birthday to give her presents and shit, someone else might confess to her," he explained as he lifted a weight. "Come on, I thought you were the smart one of the group."

Hm. Well, maybe he could accelerate his plans a little. There was also the possibility that his friend was just messing with him.

"Akaashi-kun, do you have to go to your agency today?" you were at your little studio entrance, as beautiful as before a 30 minutes dance session. Keiji nodded. "Would you mind driving me near there?"

"No, not at all, y/n-san. We can leave whenever you like," he smiled. He would've said yes even if he hadn't go there.

"I'll take a shower then and we can go?" you asked and he just nodded again. You smiled back and disappeared in the women's locker room.

"You should just get in shower with her, no need to plan anything," Kenma whispered from the desk at the entrance.

Kuroo and Bokuto laughed and he just blushed on his way to take a shower (in the men's locker room, not with you).

"Kuroo told me it's your birthday soon," he commented once you were alone in his car.

"Yeah, I'm not a fan of my birthday. I was thinking maybe we can all go out for drinks or something. Does the famous writer drink?"

"I do, sometimes," he laughed. "Do you, famous dancer, drink?"

"A lot, I must say," you laughed too and slapped his shoulder playfully. "But you can't say that to my students."

"I would never," he stopped the car on the direction you told him you needed to be. There was a guy on the door waiting. He didn't see the awful look you gave to the guy.

"Wish me luck!" you said. "See you tomorrow, sensei," you kissed his cheek and got out the car.

He tried not to look at you or the guy waiting for you. Should he confess if you already had someone in your life? Would that ruin your friendship? He tried not to think about it and just kept driving to meet with his agent.

A week later, you were all at your favorite bar, waiting for the clock to hit 12 so you could toast for your birthday. If Akaashi didn't know you already had someone, this would be the day he'd confess. He would've bought you your favorite drink and took you apart for a second so you could talk. And then he'd say "I'm in love with you" and when you'd say you felt the same -his endless mental simulations only considered this option-, he'd kiss you. But it was odd, it was almost midnight and no sign of the guy he saw that time.

"Happy birthday, y/n!" Bokuto hugged you and then Kuroo and Kenma did the same.

"Happy birthday," Akaashi smiled and you hugged him.

And then, chaos.

The guy he saw that time walked to your table, screaming. He said you could forget about anything you left at his place, how dare you dumping him, you would be nothing without him and stuff. He was clearly drunk.

"And now you're here with four guys?! You…" he was about to insult you but Kuroo walked a step closer to him.

"I would walk my way out, friend," Bokuto said standing by Kuroo's side. Both males were easily a head taller than this guy.

You were about to cry, Kenma was holding your hand. The guy was deciding if it was worth it to fight with those two guys defending you.

"Get her out of here, text us where you are when you decide a place," Kenma ordered Akaashi.

Akaashi held your hand for the first time and gave you a reassuring squeeze. You got out through the back door and walked to Akaashi's car.

"Are you ok?" he asked as he started driving. "Is there anywhere you want to go?"

"Can we go to your place?" you said.

"Yeah, of course, y/n. Text the guys where we'll be," he said.

You texted Kenma and before you knew it you were on Akaashi's couch. He offered you a glass of wine.

"Oh, thanks. Just what I need," you smiled at him.

"How are you?" he held your hand again without thinking and when he was about to let you go you held him.

"Better. It was just a scare. I don't think he would fight Tetsurou or Koutaro."

"I wouldn't fight them," he agreed. "Sorry your night got ruined. He's… that guy is a jerk."

Akaashi was about to have a mind shutdown. He had this little voice telling him this is it, this is your chance and another one saying this is not the time, she's scared and hurted right now.

"What are you thinking?" you asked and moved closer to him. Your crossed legs over the couch were touching his thighs and you put your tangled hands on his lap. He took the glass from your other hand and put it aside.

"I was… uhm, I…" even though he worked with words he couldn't seem to find them now.

"You're cute when you're flustered," you said.

"I love you," he splurged out the words. "I had a plan to say all this but now it's ruined? I must sound so selfish, I'm so sorry, you just went through an awful moment and I'm…"

His verbiage was interrupted by your hand over his mouth. He blushed in a second by the contact.

"You talk a lot when you're nervous, has someone said that to you, Akaashi?"

He blinked.

"No, no one did," he answered.

"What was your plan? Do you want to tell me?"

He explained to you the endless times he thought it through. How it always ended with your first kiss.

"So… you like me?"

"I like you, y/n. But I already said that…"

"I like you too, Akaashi. I should've said it sooner."

He smiled. He's been thinking about it for so long. Maybe he should've talk sooner too.

"This is the part where you kiss me, right? I don't mind to wait but maybe you should do it before-"

His lips were over yours before you finished your thought. You moved even closer to him and took his face between your hands. He moved apart for a second to look at you and smiled before kissing you again.

"Well, finally!" Bokuto laughed from the door.

"Happy birthday!" Kuroo laughed too and walked directly to the kitchen of his friends' apartment.

Kenma didn't say anything but his face gave away his thoughts.

"I… sorry, Bokuto has a key too, I tend to forget it," Akaashi rolled his eyes.

"We brought snacks and more alcohol," Kenma finally spoke.

"That's awesome, thanks. Are you guys ok?" you asked.

Kuroo and Bokuto gave you a thumbs up.

"He didn't even try anything after you left," the white haired guy laughed.

"You should've told us he was bugging you, y/n," Kenma said.

"I haven't talked to him or been with him in forever, I just went to grab something from his sister last week and he was there. I didn't think he'd come to find me."

"It's not your fault, don't worry," Akaashi said and kissed your cheek. "I'll get you something to eat."

The night was fun even with the bad moment and Akaashi could follow his plan in the end. You had an amazing birthday and started a new relationship, a nicer and healthier one.

"I never thought I'd be dating a famous writer," you whispered to Akaashi.

"Shut up, you're more famous that I am."

"Kenma is definitely more famous than us," you laughed.

You were getting ready to go to the opening night of a movie based on Akaashi's newest book.

"Can we just leave?" Kenma was getting impatient.

"We can't leave the bodyguards behind," you laughed.

Kenma walked to the room where both guys were getting ready.

"I can't believe you're taking longer than y/n to get ready. Just come out, no one will be looking at you!"

Akaashi laughed at his friend rage to his partners.

"How did the three ended dating? Explain it to me, please Keiji."

"It was Kuroo and Bokuto first and Kenma went to live with them and they ended being three. I don't know the specifics. I thought you did," your boyfriend said.

"Oh no, Kenma just came one day and said 'these are my boyfriends' and I was like hey I'm happy for you, do you happen to have another good looking guy for me?"

"And I did," Kenma was back, Tetsurou and Koutaro followed him close.

"You should write about them," you said. "It'll be a best seller."

"You'd have to pay for our story," Kuroo said.

"I'll think about it," Akaashi laughed.

102 notes · View notes

sunshinesukuna · 4 years

Text

ferris wheel jives and unlived lives

pairing: farmer turned soldier!iwaizumi x f!reader

warnings: war, slight gore

summary: promises are always a one way road to regret.

haikyuucreations0720 prompt: summer carnival!

words: 5.1k

i was gonna make a banner but onLINE SCHOOL. when i find the motivation i’ll make one for y’all but for now enjoy this fic in its rawest state.

big thankies to @vventure and @tsukkiscookies for beta-ing this <3333

Hands thick from a lifetime of holding shovels and axes pick up the leather-bound book on the table. Iwaizumi Hajime, 1944, is engraved in rusted metal on the cover. He flips to the calendar at the front of the page. Circled in a thick fountain pen is today’s date, with “(Y/N)” scrawled underneath.

Iwaizumi runs his finger over the lipstick stain at the bottom corner of the page. Had it been anyone else, he would have gotten a shovel from the shed and lopped their head off at the defiling of his precious journal. But not if it was you. Never for you.

He takes a deep breath before gathering all his belongings in his pocket. Not much, just his wallet with saved up money from his time serving and last month’s potato sales. Iwaizumi’s reflection glances at him from the rotary phone but he decides against calling you, lest your maid, or worse, your parents, pick up the phone. He adjusts his army cap and sweeps the dust off his shoulders before walking out the door.

You already know what time to come out anyways. Iwaizumi practically drilled it into your head the last time you saw him after you were 15 minutes late to your previous rendezvous.

Cornfields turn into suburbs and the stretch of country land morphs into that of the city. He’s never really liked the city, preferring the clean air of the long extent of his farm compared to the smog. But it’s a small price to pay to see you.

Some people give him odd looks on his way. In their defense, they do have a reason. Iwaizumi’s a scruffy farmer turned soldier riding a rickety car that groans and moans louder than the old men haggling over the price of a sack of corn Iwaizumi’s just trying to sell. He’s a black sheep among the delicate edges of the perfectly manicured lawns and pristine white paint of the government houses that all seem to wag their finger at him.

He finally stops in an empty field — he doesn’t dare park in front of your house, lest your parents see. The mayor would throw a fit if he ever saw his daughter walking around with someone the likes of Iwaizumi.

So he walks. Iwaizumi crouches by the massive oak tree that hides him from view. From his vantage point, he has clear sight of your curtained window. The glass is dented after so many pebbles flung its way. Iwaizumi saves his guilt for later and picks a small, innocuous one.

He throws another one.

The curtains crack open ever so slightly, and he catches a glimpse of an eye in between. Iwaizumi makes himself known. You open the curtains ever so widely, framing your face in between the cloth and shooting him a silly expression from atop your window. He shakes his head and beckons you to come down.

No amount of military training could have ever prepared him for all of your descents down. He can’t help but flinch every time you put your dainty foot down on a branch that looks like it’s breaking point is way overdue. Thank heavens, you make it down, your skirt slightly rustled and a leaf in your hair, but the mischievous glow in your eyes nullifying all other flaws. You hold his hands to steady yourself. They smell like iron.

"Your father?" he asks.

"Out negotiating with the city next door."

"Your mother?"

"With my father.” You snake your hands around his waist until they meet his own that are clasped behind him. Slowly, you pry them apart until you have both hands in yours. He presses a tender kiss to your knuckles. “They say there's going to be a dance after all the diplomatic issues are done with. They won't be back until midnight."

"The maid?"

"Asleep."

"You?"

"Missing you as always." Iwaizumi scoffs, but he does nothing to hide the growing smile on his face.

“Come on now, before the neighbors see us.” You grab his hand and make your way towards where you know he has his car parked, with no consideration towards anyone watching! In your defense, there isn’t anyone. Probably all in their own backyards, enjoying the luxuries that come with being part of the upper class, away from the trouble and toil of war efforts right now.

You wince a little at the loud squealing of the car opening. No one seems to have noticed, so you pull up a pastel shoe clad foot up into the dirty metal of the car.

“Where are we going today?” you ask.

“You’ll see.” He revs the engine up. You pout.

“I don’t like surprises.”

“I’ll teach you to like them, then.”

You talk for most of the ride, mostly some of the gossip you hear here and there as the mayor’s daughter. Stolen kisses between the maid and next door’s chauffeur, plans to build a new shopping center once the war’s over.

The honking tires of the city are replaced by children’s music as more and more people file into the empty lot. Some are armed with picnic baskets and blankets, others with cones of ice cream and cotton candy bigger than your head. You observe your new surroundings.

“The carnival?” you ask. Iwaizumi shrugs and holds the steering wheel closer.

“I stumbled on them when I went out. And… you said that you wanted to go, so I— (Y/N)!” Iwaizumi’s windpipe is almost crushed by the pair of arms that wrap around his neck. He doesn’t try to remove them, instead settling for a hand on the small of your back.

“I love you a thousand times!”

“H-hey,” he chokes out in his best imitation of his “army” voice. “We’re still on the road. People could see us.” You shrug and pull back anyways.

The car finally comes to a stop at a large field where other cars park. You don’t even wait for Iwaizumi to come to a full stop before you leap out the door, stumbling a little when your feet hit the warm asphalt. The air is clear and sweet in your lungs as you take in the feel of the fresh new atmosphere.

Iwaizumi’s just getting out, but you’re already walking to the other side and yanking his hand out, running as fast as you can to the opening gates. Carnival music blares through the air, mingling with people shouting at other people to come try out various games and food. So much was happening at the same time. When was the last time you went out like this without being stopped at the door by either of your parents? Second grade, probably, under the watchful eye of your nanny that tore you away from the other kids at the playground.

“Where do you want to go first?”

“Umm....” Your newly-found curiosity takes the best of you. There’s so much to see and do, and you’re not sure what should come first. From where you’re standing, you spot a large circle turning lazily in the sky. The line isn’t too long, and the view looks like it would be fantastic at this time.

“The ferris wheel, maybe?” you suggest.

“All right. You go line up and I’ll go get the tickets,” Iwaziumi says. You join the line that is steadily growing while your lover goes to buy some tickets.

Iwaizumi has just taken ten steps from you when an unwanted guest creeps up on you. Some people grumble from behind you at the appearance of this new tyrant that cuts in line so leisurely. He leans lazily on the divider right behind you and makes eyes you would rather he not make at you. The golden watch on his wrist clanks and tinkles on the metal divider. His hair is slicked back in imitation of the handsome actors on the screen, though the same can’t be said about him.

The man behind you clears his throat a few times, each getting progressively louder and louder. He really isn’t going to stop is he? What if he knows dad?

The thought crosses in your mind, and without second guessing, you turn back. Your eyes lock with him for a few seconds longer than “accidental” could pass for. Turning back without acknowledging him would be what your parent considered impolite. And you were certainly not going to attend one of your father’s weekly lectures on attitude again.

“Would you like a handkerchief?” you offered. You fished out the green cloth from the small bag you carried with you. The man accepts it with a cocky smile and a fake cough. You’re about to turn back when you feel a tap on your back.

“You know, I’m set to take over my dad’s company when he kicks the bucket. I could get a pretty girl like you all the pretty dresses and pearl necklaces you want,” he says. He slings your poor handkerchief over his finger like a dishrag.

“That’s very nice of you,” you remark politely before trying to turn away. The tap on your shoulder keeps you from breaking eye contact with him. You’re already standing a little too close to the gate for your liking, but the sudden arm on your right side inches away from your waist keeps you from going anywhere.

“What does a cute gal like you prefer? Tiffany? Swarovski? Cartier?”

“I’m quite alright, actually.” You look to the ground. Surely just buying two tickets shouldn’t take this long?

“Awh, come on. ‘Gal like you fancy a man who rides a red or white Cadillac?”

“Well, I don’t know. Men who can actually take care of their ladies instead of throwing wads of cash at them are quite popular nowadays,” you retort.

“Like me?” someone’s familiar timbre asks from behind you. You catch his reflection in the Ferris wheel door and can’t help but giggle a little bit at his sudden cockiness in the face of a new adversary.

Iwaizumi looms protectively over you, a hand on your shoulder. He’s not doing anything to the unwanted visitor in front of you, but you still enjoy his face whitening in fear. You take the chance and look up at your lover.

The sunlight hits his face perfectly like he’s the chosen child of Helios; the shadows and light bending to his will and accentuating the harsh lines of his face. You swear you can hear the man whimper.

The operator barks out for the next group of people to come inside.

“Of course!” you reply. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we have a ride to catch.”

The man hangs with his jaw open as he tries to form coherent words. You balance between your heels and tip toes as the operator opens the capsule doors. Like the courteous gentleman he is, Hajime offers you a calloused hand up the carriage. The capsule ascends with an unceremonious squeal.

The capsules are cramped, but one look outside has you swooning. The view of your small town, accompanied by the man’s aggravated grunt, and a warm hand squeezing your own makes you feel drunk and sober, wasted yet clear-headed at the same time. A voice breaks you out of your stupor.

“He wasn’t bothering you, right?” Iwaizumi asks.

“A little.”

His hands instinctively reach out to stroke your shoulders and hair. The intimacy of the capsule has made him more touchy. Instead of shy brushes on your forearms, he’s now melted into you, foreheads touching and breaths on your neck.

“Are you okay doll? Nothing wrong?”

“The only thing that’s wrong is how long you left me just to get some tickets for us.” You pull away. ”I missed you, you know.”

“Y-y-you did?”

Iwaizumi’s flustered. Charmingly so.

“No, I missed your friend from the army that you brought over to your house when I was there that time. What was his name? Otsubo? O’Connel? Ogawa?” Iwaizumi sighs, memories of the brown-haired delinquent he was paired up with plaguing his thoughts.

“Oikawa.” His eyes glaze over as he stares into the window behind you. You click your tongue. This airhead.

Without thinking, you press a kiss to his lips. It lingers, trapped in the confines of space, time, and your slowly waning self control. It’s nothing special, but maybe that’s what makes it all the better to remember. Who has time to remember grandiose scenes of kissing in the rain or in a fit of passion when mundane ones like these are the ones they experience the most? Quantity over quality for this one, shall we say? It’s your run-of-the-mill kiss shared by countless other actors and actresses and seen by thousands of other loyal viewers, but only truly felt by the two of you.

You finally find the will to pull back after a good 30 seconds. Residue lipstick stains his plump lips, almost camouflaging them amongst Iwaizumi’s burning crimson blush.

“Did you really think that I would miss someone other than you?” you asked.

“Well, you looked like you did.” You put a hand to his cheek.

“You’ll always be my number one, Hajime.”

The ferris wheel turns for a few more times, hushed cuddles and silent declarations of love happening inside it’s capsules, you and Iwaizumi being the main culprits. He’s alone with you, with a perfect view. What more could he want? A thought pulls on the back of his mind like an impatient child.

What is he? A mere farmer who got drafted into the war, possibly to never return. And you? The mayor’s daughter. The difference between you two is larger than that of the distance between this quaint little town in the middle of nowhere and the sea. Iwaizumi imagines his future — not necessarily bleak, but definitely filled with dirt and toil, not one he would ever want to give you.

Perhaps it’s better for you if he doesn’t come back.

You would grieve and cry for however long you pleased, but it would be the best for you. A new man would come and sweep you off your feet, like Iwaizumi once did. He would make time for you, like Iwaizumi once did. Maybe some money would be involved, and that’s where Iwaizumi can’t compete any longer. The altercation just now was proof of that.

The operator barks at the two of you to get out once your time is up. Iwaizumi hops off with ease, helping you with the strict confines of your skirt. He’s so enamoured in his thoughts, that he doesn’t realize that you’re shoving a cone of ice cream into his face.

“Hajime,” you call. Your voice, the product of years of being taught how to speak softly like the ladies of your class, a far cry from the gruff barks of the farmers where he’s from, rings in his ear like a gong.

“What are you thinking about, Iwaizumi Hajime?”

“Nothing,” he says stoically. Even though you see the postman more than you see Iwaizumi in person, you see through your lover in an instant.

“Let me guess.... You’re thinking about....” You tap your finger on your lips in mock thinking. “Me! You’re thinking about me! Aren’t you?”

“What makes you think that?” he asks, but the flush on his face is definitely not from the carnival lights.

“You’re staring at my neck like I’m the one who stole those tomatoes from your garden bed last night,” you quip. Iwaizumi does nothing except pinch your cheek, to which you respond with a squeal and a nuzzle on his neck. Before you know it, there are fingers dancing on your midriff and torso, tickling the living daylights out of you.

“Stop, Hajime!” you plead relentlessly, but he has no mercy on you. Like a good soldier, he leaves no place unchecked. Your arms, your neck, your ribs. Iwaizumi takes no prisoners. By the time he does manage to pull away, you’re panting as you lean on him.

“You could have made me spill my ice cream!” you complain as you hand one to Iwaizumi. The smile on his face is wiped away by a look of uncertainty.

“You should’ve let me pay for that, (Y/N),” he says quietly.

“Oh, please.” Your voice drops to a quiet hush as well, the smile shrinking away from your face until it’s only visible to the Iwaizumi and the sky.

“It’s my treat for you. For taking me here.”

The both of you eat your ice cream in silence. The only thing that could connect the two of you as a couple was a small patch of skin where your smaller hand touched his elbow, strong and hard from years of both farming and training.

He really should count his blessings someday. He’s alive, breathing, and healthy, for one. Iwaizumi isn’t rich, not as rich as you anyways, but he has a roof over his head and enough to make a meal for himself at least twice a day. The heavens could have stopped there, but no. They decided to send down an angel straight from their ranks to him. One with a glowing smile he would pay millions more to see just for another second,

Yeah, right, find a new husband. Hell would freeze over before Iwaizumi would ever allow that to happen.

But, like most things in his life, it’s shattered to pieces.

Literally.

The sweet summer air turns into clouds of smoke at the pull of a trigger. Iwaizumi looks up. From the clouds, fall large blocks of metal that he recognizes all too well as rocket artillery. It hangs in the air for a hot minute, like a ballerina staying in the air just before she lands from her jump. Everyone holds their breath as the first shell makes its descent.

Sirens finally break the silence. Recorded laughter melts into shrill screaming as people rush to take cover. Civilians and members of the military alike take off to who knows where — parents seeking their children, civilian lovers holding on tight, a group of friends breaking apart because two of them bear a soldier’s cap a little too proudly.

Someone screams from the other side

“A civilian attack?”

“Women and children to safety! At once!”

“Soldiers, report to the north gate at once!

And it finally happens. A symphony of thundering cracks that shakes the ground under your very feet like a seesaw. The trills and hums of falling buildings and structures soon join it, bringing an eerie soundtrack to the scene of fire and blazes that unfold before your eyes. But the star soloist in the show is perhaps the screaming. It doesn’t discriminate. Everyone screams. Old men trying to survive another five years doing so hoarsely as the hang on to what’s left of the burnt wick that they call life. Teen girls doing so, trying to huddle together with their friends under what they think is a safe spot. It’s deafening.

A pack of soldiers run past you, some carrying first-aid kits and stretchers. Iwaizumi gives them a knowing glance and a nod, before finally looking to you.

You’re the mayor’s daughter. Of all people in this town your age, you know best that during times like these, duty comes first. But what is duty when the people left to carry it out are slaves to love?

“Hajime!” you choke out. You don’t know whether the iron grip on his wrist is to keep him from going or to keep him from staying any longer with you. But you keep holding him anyways.

“Go with them,” he says. His voice is calm and steady, interpolated by the crackling of fires and the occasional thundering of what must be more bombs coming from the air.

“You—”

“I’ll meet up with you later. At your front door, next time.”

His hands moved to cup your face. Fire and explosions are reflected in the tears that start to roll down your face. Sticky residue ice cream lingers on your hand, some of it getting caught in your face as you wipe down the tears that flow so ungracefully down the side of your face.

“At my front door?” you ask.

The front door with the bronze plaque, serving as the golden gate for people of your class, but a barbed fence to those of Iwaizumi’s. The front door with a hole near the doorknob that your father never noticed, from when Iwaziumi used to sneak letters he wrote in school for you seven years ago. Maybe you would share a kiss, only to scurry back in the blueberry bushes behind your house because you saw the glint of your mother’s car in the driveway? Or maybe share a lazy nap in the sun because your father had guests from halfway around the world and the nanny was sick, and the circumstances and situation all just perfect.

Too perfect.

“Of course. If your father says anything about us, I’ll make him eat his own words.” Something bites at the back of his throat, but Iwaizumi coughs it back under the guise of ash. The last thing he needed or wanted was you getting scared.

“That’s a promise?” you ask.

“We don’t make promises in this household, doll.”

You want to say something, but another bang cuts you off, followed closely another crowd of soldiers directing people off to the side. Iwaizumi takes a long whiff of your perfume— one nicked from your mother’s shelves, yet worn countless times. You smell good.

Iwaizumi gives you a kiss on your forehead — a rather mundane one — before joining the crowd of marching soldiers.

Everything is piercing.

There’s something about the smell that invades his nose that makes him want to retch, yet fall asleep at the same time. It reminds him of the rubbing alcohol that they give the new trainee that bleeds first during hand-to-hand back at his base. Iwaizumi wrinkles his nose instinctively, but finds that the longer he smells it, the clearer his head becomes.

And the lights are just too bright. They’re a blinding white, unlike the yellow lighting he’s accustomed to. The white tiles and white sheets that wrap around him securely make it even worse. It reminds him of the showers back at boot camp, where blood and other bodily fluids contrasted proudly with the white tiles. He blinks several times as he gets his eyes to adjust to the new lighting.

A machine whirrs and buzzes behind him. Iwaizumi has never prided himself on knowing lots about military technology, but in all his years training at the military, he’s fairly sure he’s never seen anything like this before. From where he’s laying down, he makes out a valve connected to his fingers.

“Mr. Iwaizumi,” someone asks. He makes out a silhouette leaning over him. Something pounds in his heart as he hopes that it’s you that’s come to see him, but an adjustment of the light quickly kills all of them. A woman with red lipstick and dressed like a nurse from the neighborhood hospital helps him up.

“Where am I?” he manages to croak out.

“You’re at the hospital. There was an attack and you were ushered to safety when—”

It’s like someone turned a light switch in him. One minute he’s drowsy and fatigued, the next he’s up and alert, ready to pounce at anyone. Iwaizumi sits up straight, eager to hear this new information that is to be delivered.

“The others?” he asks.

“They…” The nurse trails off. She looks down apologetically, the blinding lights reflecting off the sheen of sweat on her hands. Her figure shrinks a bit. The silence is enough to fill in the blanks.

“You left the others out there to die?”

“Sir, we tried—”

The ground is cold and hard on his bare feet. Iwaizumi’s shoulders sag with the feelings of ten sacks of wheat on his shoulders. He’s getting very good at ignoring, what with people screaming around him and sirens that block out any other form of conscious thought. All he knows, hears, and wants is to run.

So he does.

He makes it down an uncountable amount of flights of stairs, until his knees ache and his calves are on fire. The metal is cold, hard, and unforgiving. The light of the tunnel keeps on dipping lower and lower until he finally drops down onto the floor. It seems to be deserted. Iwaizumi puts his hands on his knees and breathes like the drill sergeant instructed him back at camp. It seems that he won’t have much time to rest, though.

“Rouge patient!” someone barks from the other side of the room.

Iwaizumi curses under his breath. Every step he takes is a spike up his thigh. But he runs. He runs and runs and runs until he finally sees a glass door at the end of it all. The door seems to be protected by a set of numbers, like those on a calculator sitting next to it. Footsteps thunder behind him and Iwaizumi can hear people opening their office doors in hopes of intercepting him, only to have the rogue patient run past them. It’s now or never.

The door squeals as Iwaizumi puts all his body weight into the front part of his body. There’s a change in the air. The previously dingy atmosphere from inside the building is now replaced with a fresh breeze. Iwaizumi can’t stop to admire the flowers though. Without a moment’s thought, he rushes through the streets, weaving blindly through vehicles until he spots a dim alley.

It’s still the light of day, but this alley was unoccupied. Iwaizumi drops to his knees a second time, trying to put the wind back in his chest. Breathing seems to do good, so he does so shallowly until his lungs are willing to take in more oxygen at a time. No injuries, except the burning in his feet from running on bare pavement across the city.

Iwaizumi finally opens his eyes for the first time. Where was he now? DId he land at the car repair shop near your house? No, it doesn’t smell like grease and oil. The clothing factory? No, there’s no smog in the clear, blue skies above. Iwaizumi retraces his steps around the city. He closes his eyes again, visualizing his footsteps.

The smell of cotton candy drowns him in his thoughts.

There must be a carnival going on.

But instead of rolling hills and low houses, giant blocks of stone and metal crane their necks to the sky, reaching aimlessly for the sun and clouds that hang over their heads so tantalizingly. Great pictures hang suspended over the buildings, depicting beautiful people with clothes that would make any person from Iwaizumi’s part of town gasp. He wonders how he didn’t notice them during all his running before. In his defense, running from people who would do questionable things to you impairs your peripheral vision for an unknown period of time.

Something flashes out of the corner of his eye. His hands reach up to pat his waist for the revolver on his waist, but there’s nothing there. A closer look at the flashing colours reveals themselves to be… a Ferris wheel?

A simple road leads up to the ferris wheel. Street vendors and pedestrians alike bustle through the streets, enjoying the carnival. Iwaizumi can’t bring himself to care about them. The only thing on his mind right now is where you are.

His mind is spinning so quickly right now that he doesn’t notice the lack of planes the air, or people laughing and chatting instead of screaming for their lives in the streets. Everything rings in his ears the same as they did that night.

Some of the people he shoves through give him dirty looks. And he’s in luck too, not far down the street is the back of a familiar head of hair. A closer look reveals a blue bow, the same blue bow he recognizes as the one he bought you for your birthday. You had shoved his gift away and told him that the money would be better off feeding the cattle, but he had made sure that it found a snug home in your hair.

He doesn’t remember you wearing it on the car ride earlier.

There’s a cone of ice cream in your hand— not melting on the ground surrounded by ash. You blissfully lick the cone while looking at the rides whizzing above.

“(L/N)! Why haven’t you gone with the others?” Iwaizumi asks frantically. You turn your head back so casually Iwaizumi wants to yank you away. If it was any other person, he would have wanted to disappear right then and there.

But it’s you. Same eyes that widen in confusion when you look at him. Same nose that wrinkles in disgust when you see his bare feet on the concrete. Same lips that part ever so slightly at his appearance.

“I’m… sorry?” you ask.

“There was an aerial strike, and everyone had to go to safety! Why weren’t you with them? I was worried sick for you the whole time and you stroll through the streets like everything’s fine and dandy?”

People are starting to stare even harder now. Some people shuffle closer to you in case the worst situation comes to light.

“I think you have the wrong person, sir,” you say calmly.

“Wrong person? Now is not the time for joking, (L/N) (Y/N)!”

Iwaizumi wants to slap the eyebrows that are furrowing too slowly for his liking off your face, he just wants you to hurry up so the both of you can get to safety and meet at your front door like he promised but—

“(L/N) (Y/N)?”

“Who else would you be?” He must look like a madman now, screeching while other pedestrians give him odd looks. Someone seems to call the police on him, but the screeching of tires behind him is enough to dispel all sudden danger.

Black cars surround the small road, visages of baffled pedestrians and vendors reflected in their tinted windows. The drivers don’t seem to mind them, some opening the doors to their black suit clad passengers, all around his height and build. Iwaizumi feels a hand creeping up on his back, but he shakes it off and takes a long step to you.

“(L/N) (Y/N) is my grandmother’s name, sir.”

yes this is inspired by captain america. copyright don’t come for me!!!!!

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuucreations 0720 #haikyuucreations #hqcn #iwaizumi oneshots #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi haijme oneshots #haikyuu oneshots #seijoh x reader #seijoh #aoba johsai #iwaizumi hajime #hajime iwaizumi

78 notes · View notes