#iwaizumi hajime x reader angst

[chimielie]

girlfriend

summary: Iwaizumi x F!Reader. you might be his girlfriend—but she's his girl.

word count: 2.4k

cw: hurt/comfort. a lot of reader insecurity. fear/mention of emotional cheating but there is none

a/n: this actually fills @akimind's request for my 500 follower event one million years ago but the formatting is tooo hard so. here it is!!! iwaizumi + angst + college au + "that's not what i said." LOVE YOU SORRY HOPE IT HURTS AND IS ALSO ENJOYABLE. <<<<3333333

You didn't mean to fall in love with your boyfriend.

You hadn't gone into this expecting Hajime to become your boyfriend at all, actually. You liked him. Liked how easy it was to be with him. How warm he was when you let your touch linger on him and pretended it was more than a flirty friendship. You hadn't ever predicted it would become so, because Hajime was hung up on his ex-girlfriend.

They'd traveled over oceans to be together, coming to Irvine from the same prefecture in Japan. They had still been together when you met him, her head tucked beneath his chin, his arms wrapped around her waist. Your first thought was "oh, he's beautiful." Your second thought was "they look like they're made for each other." You shoved the first thought deep inside a secret crevice of your brain and stuck out your hand to introduce yourself with a bright smile.

The strain of new adulthood got to them, though, or so you assumed: you were never privy to the gory details of the breakup. They remained friendly, in the same friend group, and it just always seemed obvious to you that they would someday reconcile. It wasn't until two years after their break that you were able to start showing regular, platonic affection to Hajime without feeling like an attempted homewrecker.

It was just before graduation, having dragged him away for a late-night bite to eat so neither of you would starve to death studying for finals, when everything flipped on its head. Your plan to energize the both of you had backfired; you were yawning every other sentence and came close to laying your head on the table before Hajime put his palm down in front of your face.

"Come sit next to me," he'd said, so you maneuvered around into his side of the booth and been promptly pulled into his side. You had looked up at him, murmuring a sleepy question that was more wordless noise than actual English, and that was it. Something you didn't understand softened his gaze, and then he tilted his head to the side and brushed his lips over yours.

It was a perfect first kiss.

In the weeks following it, you had bounced violently between insisting to yourself that he hadn't meant for you to read too far into the kiss and your natural instinct to go after what your heart wanted. And the more he proved that it wasn't a one-off anomaly, that he could kiss you right out of drought into a superbloom, the more you were convinced. Iwaizumi Hajime wouldn't knowingly break your heart.

When Hajime asked you to be official, wildflower bouquet in hand, the lights of the now-empty graduation pavilion shining down on the both of you, you said yes, your whole heart and none of your brain in the matter.

As you entered your apartment hand-in-hand with him, greeting all the friends who had gathered there to celebrate the end of undergraduate school, you remembered that the key modifier in "Iwaizumi Hajime wouldn't knowingly break your heart" was knowingly. He seemed happy enough announcing the development to everyone else, and then she had walked in, carrying a bottle of wine that almost slipped from her grasp when she saw your proximity. He had dropped your hand—just for a second, but it had happened, and then picked it back up like his sentence hadn't died in his mouth at the sight of her.

He'd always gotten a little defensive when people mentioned their relationship, his features shutting down into a blank, tight expression. Though they obviously weren't as close as they had been for most of their lives, they were still both part of your friend group, and he always seemed to laugh just a little harder at her jokes, kept eye contact a little longer, got embarrassed more easily around her. You didn't want to be jealous or insecure or possessive, but it just felt more increasingly obvious that you were a rebound, a cheap, temporary dupe meant to fill in until Hajime realized and returned to the love of his life.

It was hard to be angry at him, though, because you knew with every fiber of your bleeding heart that he wouldn't do this to you on purpose. You knew he thought he cared for you, that he thought he had moved on. He did a good job almost every day coming very close to persuading you of it, enough to keep you from breaking up with him and leaving him behind, but never quite erasing your insecurities for more than a few weeks at a time.

One of the first mornings you woke up in his bed, well rested and sore in all the right places, he was missing. You got up, mourning the softness of his sheets and the scent of him on the pillowcases, and slipped into one of his shirts before leaving his room to explore.

He was cooking, shirtless in the kitchen, and if that wasn't one of the yummiest things you had seen in your life.

"Good morning," you said, leaning against his counter.

"Very," he returned, flipping an egg in the pan. "Looking like that. I think—I mean, it seems like that shirt always gets chosen to be the boyfriend shirt." He had narrowly avoided saying her name, but you had heard it threatening to tumble out of his mouth. You bit back a response, but your smile still dropped, and he spent the next hour making allusive, sorry overtures without either of you actually acknowledging the slip.

You never wore that shirt again. He gave you another one, you accepted it, and life moved on.

Except you had somehow become mired in the past with a relationship that was long over, and without university or a job to distract you—you were starting at the end of September, which felt aeons away—it was eating you alive, especially as Hajime left for a preliminary return trip to Japan.

"Did you hear how Mattsun and Makki greeted him when he landed?" You sit in the car on the way to the airport, packed in with Hajime's ex, successfully hyping yourself up to see him again until she addressed the group.

"Oh, yeah," you laugh. "So funny." You haven't had a conversation with Hajime that had more depth than "how are u? miss u" for the trip's duration. She's your friend, too, though you've never been close, but there's something unbearable about admitting it to her now, when you're so unsure of your relationship's current status. It has to mean something that he was keeping her updated and active in his life, didn't it?

You find solace in knowing that you don't blame her at all. If you could find an ounce of resentment for her in your heart, you would probably have left Hajime by now—isn't that the mark of a truly evil plot-pushing girlfriend?

You cry when you see him again.

"Happy tears," you assure him, and hide your face in his shoulder.

Later, alone in his apartment, you bite your lip when Hajime asks if you want to sleep over.

"Okay, babe, I don't want to pressure you," he says, and you can feel yourself tensing up as he speaks. "But I feel like you've been—off all day. Is everything okay?"

You blanch and focus on the cowlick on the right side of his head, the one that's endeared him so much to you, so you don't have to look him in the eyes. Too much is bubbling up in your throat, your brain thrown into overdrive, and he's staring at you with so much worry in his eyes it's just not right to leave him hanging:

"No."

Hajime makes a noise you don't understand, low in his throat. "Is it because I didn't call enough while I was gone? Because I can explain that, I promise."

"No," you rush to explain. "I don't—it wasn't you, exactly. I've just—ever since we started dating—I think you still love her."

You're picking at your nails, a bad habit you've had since you were small, and he takes your hands in his, smooths his thumbs over the torn cuticles.

"I don't," he says, finally, neutrally, though his face hasn't formed into the cold mask you're used to seeing when she's brought up. "Ever since we started dating?"

"Before," you admit. "I always thought you would get back together. You just seemed so made for each other."

"But we weren't," a little pucker between his eyebrows forms. "So—what did you think when we started dating?"

"When you first kissed me," you say, "I thought maybe it was a one-off. That you wanted something casual. And then it got more serious, and I thought maybe I could just suppress my insecurities until they went away, and I mean, I really thought you liked me."

"I do," his voice grows more agitated, his lips thinning out.

"Yeah, but..." You trail off. "You would do things that made me think, oh, he's just the perfect guy, they just looked so amazing because I was jealous, and then every so often I'd see you interact with her and it wasn't like how we are at all. I know the insecurity is my own fault, that's not on you, but I feel like it's holding both of us back."

"What do you mean holding us back? You don't think you make me happy?" He snaps, and you wince.

"Not like you are with her! Every time she comes in the room you get this look on your face, like you're speechless. Like-like the songs, Haji, I just..."

He lets go of your hands, crosses his arms.

"Do you really think I'd do that to you?"

"No, Haji, I know you'd never cheat. That's why I fell in love with you! You're a good guy, but I don't want you to wake up one day and break both our hearts because she's meant to be your girl and I'm just your fucking girlfriend." Your eyes sting, your chest heaving by the end of the sentence.

"You love me?" He's quieter now, giving you a little more space to breathe.

"What? That's not what I said."

"Yes, it is," he says, a little smile growing at the corners of his mouth, as though he can't control it. "You love me."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand why you're focusing on that," you wipe at your eyes with the back of your hand. "It's true, I just don't get it."

"Because you make me happier than she ever did," he promises, crowding you up against the counter and motioning for you to jump up to sit on top of it after you can go no further. "I'm weird when she's around because she's my ex, sure, but not because I still want her. It... ended badly. It's a miracle we didn't pull the entire friend group into it, and I never wanted to make her look bad to them, so I'm always trying really hard to look, uh, normal around her. We're on better terms now, but I haven't wanted her in years, honey."

"She knew about what you were doing when I didn't," you mumble, feeling small in the stormy release of emotions. "And she knows so much about you I don't in general."

"We grew up together," Hajime reminds you. "It would have been one of the guys. I know I didn't tell her anything. You can check my call history, my texts."

You shake your head. "I believe you."

"Really?" He arches a brow, and you laugh and push gently at his shoulder.

"Yes, really."

"You know how long I had a crush on you before I did anything about it? I thought you weren't interested, and then you finally started being even more affectionate with me than you were with our other friends, and I took the chance."

"Rookie numbers," you preen under his gaze. "I liked you... pretty much as soon as I met you. But I suppressed it 'cause I didn't want to be a homewrecker."

"You're sweet," he chuckles. "I promise, you have nothing to worry about there. I'm never gonna wake up and not be grateful to see you drooling on my bed."

"You're the worst, you know that?"

"Yeah, yeah," he looks at you fondly, swiping his thumbs under your lower lashes. "You love me, though."

"Oh," your lips part. "And the not calling in Japan?"

He scrunches his nose. "I was trying not to spoil anything. I wanted to, uh, discuss it with you first, but you should know my friends and family are all waiting to embarrass me if I have to turn everything around now."

"Okay? I'll consider your dignity, but I make no promises," you tease. He drops his head to your shoulder for a moment, taking a deep breath, and you wind a hand into his hair, petting him until he straightens.

"So, you know how I have that paid internship opportunity back home?" You nod, not wanting to be reminded. You'll do it for him, but... long distance sucks. "I went to their office and turned it down. I want to go through with my doctorate."

"Oh, that's huge!" You gasp. "That's incredible, I'm so happy for you!"

"So the part that has to do with you is, um," he says, "you're planning to stay here, right?"

"Yeah," you say, "my next step is like a twenty minute commute, thankfully."

"I want to finish my schooling in the States," he tells you, "and then after that, I want to go wherever you go."

"Hajime," you start, but he puts a shaking hand on your knee, and that shuts you up.

"I love you," he says seriously. "It's like I said, okay? You make me happier than anyone else. I know you're the one for me, if you'll have me. If not, I get—"

You grab his face and smash your lips into his, and if that doesn't get the message across? You don't know what will.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #hq x reader #hq!! x reader #iwaizumi x reader fluff #iwaizumi x reader angst #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader fluff #iwaizumi hajime x reader angst #iwaizumi x reader angst to fluff #haikyuu hurt/comfort

[strwbrryeyes]

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

⟡ featuring: hinata, semi, iwaizumi, kenma

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

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

⟡ part one, part two

⟡ hinata shoyo: never bloom again - waterparks

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

⟡ eita semi: worst - waterparks

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

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

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

⟡ kozume kenma: easy to hate you - waterparks

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

#𖦹°｡⋆ 𝓃𝒾𝓃𝒾 #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader angst #haikyuu angst #haikyuu drabbles #hinata x reader #hinata x reader angst #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shoyo x reader angst #semi eita x reader #semi eita x reader angst #semi x reader angst #semi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader angst #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x reader angst #kenma kozume x reader #kenma x reader #kenma x reader angst #kenma kozume x reader angst

[omiomi-kyun]

00:07 — unrequited

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“hajime?”

he took a breath before bowing his head deeply.

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

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

“your highness...”

“you're dismissed.”

“your—”

“be well, young lord.”

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

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

or so they thought.

#haikyuu!! angst #haikyuu angst #hq!! angst #hq angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader angst #haikyuu!! x reader angst #haikyuu!! x reader #hq!! x reader #hq!! x reader angst #hq x reader #hq x reader angst #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi hajime angst #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x reader angst #iwaizumi hajime x reader angst #prazia: angst

[chaxiu]

object impermanence

pairing: iwaizumi hajime x female! reader

summary: a love letter to small towns, and all the other things we outgrow. inspired by "the dry season" by hannah gramson.

⎯⎯⎯

The thing is this: if there’s anything you’re sure of, it’s that Iwaizumi Hajime loves his hometown, small as it is.

He loves the quiet streets, the roads that he’s been walking since he was old enough to take those first steps on his own, face screwed up in extreme concentration in a way that his mother loves to mimic even today. He loves the grandmother around the corner that always tells him Goodness, Hajime-kun, you’re getting so tall, even though he hasn’t grown even a fraction of a centimeter since his second year of high school, much to his dismay and Oikawa’s delight. He loves the konbini next to the school that always keeps his favorite popsicles in stock (the ones that come with two sticks and are perfect for splitting,) even in the heat of summer when everyone and their mother is scrambling to buy anything that’ll keep them cool. He loves his school, his team, and his friends: he loves the foundations he’s built here, the foundation he’s become. He loves his family, and the agedashi tofu that his mother makes for him whenever she thinks he’s done a good job at something or he needs something to cheer him up or she just wants him to know that she loves him.

He loves you: you know this. Have known this, ever since he’d started offering to walk you home from school, ears red, hand scratching the back of his neck as he looked anywhere but at you. You’d grinned at him, then. “Are you gonna look at me at any point the entire way?”

The red had spread to his cheeks. Part of you wanted to reach up and poke them, see if they could get any redder. “Shut up,” he’d said, wrenching his gaze to yours with what looked like some difficulty. “Do you want me to walk you home or not?”

You did, although he didn’t need to know just yet quite how much. Instead, you had grinned at him, shuffling a little closer and letting that stand as your response. 

One day bled into two, then into a week, and before you knew it he was standing in front of you, hands clenched into fists as he yelled into your face: “I like you!”

“I know,” you’d said.

He’d stood there, mouth still half-open, until you decided to take pity on him, reaching up to cup his face in your hands, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before stepping back. He’d reacted almost immediately, grabbing your hands in his and pulling you to him, close enough that your foreheads almost knocked together.

You remember thinking a lot of things. How his eyes were greener than you’d ever noticed, that he smelled like salonpas and clean cotton. Mostly, you remember thinking about how rough his hands were: callused and sturdy, far bigger than your own.

They’d held you so tenderly. Fingers loose around your wrists, palm cupped underneath yours: soft, so soft.

Tonight it’s hard to remember a lot of things about Iwaizumi: the exact way his chin dimples when he grins, or how his voice rasps in the morning without the tinny sound of your phone’s speaker laid over it. You still remember his hands, though. You don’t think you could ever forget. 

A crackling yawn comes through the speakers. “Babe? You there?”

“I’m here,” you say, quiet. “I always am.”

Night for you means morning for him, and Iwaizumi wakes up diligently every week for your scheduled calls, even if it means you get the pleasure of hearing his earth-shattering yawns every five minutes for the entire duration of the call. It’s what both of you signed up for, you know: it’s part and parcel of being in a long-distance relationship. And California to Japan is about as long-distance as it gets: your friends in college, when you tell them about him, all cluck disbelievingly. “So far away,” they all say. “That must be so difficult.”

“I love him,” you always say back. There’s no point in talking about whether or not it’s difficult. What matters is whether or not you’re willing to do it. At least that’s what the two of you had decided, when you sat down and talked it out a month before he was set to leave for California.

“I don’t want to let you go,” he’d said, eyes holding yours steadily. “I want to make us work, do you?”

He’d said your name, cradled in between his tongue and the roof of his mouth like it was the most precious thing he’d ever held, and you knew then you would never forgive yourself if you hadn’t tried.

“Yeah,” you’d said. It had been worth the tightening in your stomach to see the way his face lit up like the sun. “Of course I do, Hajime.”

“Hajime!” comes from the other end of the call, heavily accented and distorted almost beyond repetition. You catch a glimpse of blonde hair on the screen: Iwaizumi’s roommate. All you’ve been able to discern about him is that he’s a beanstalk of a man – long and lanky, with no coordination whatsoever – and is from the south of the U.S., which Iwaizumi tells you is apparently famous only for cowboys and meat. He seems nice enough, from what you can tell; still, hearing Iwaizumi’s first name in his mouth leaves a sour taste in yours.

It’s not like he means anything by it, you know. It’s only a difference in culture: Iwaizumi has told you about how it still shocks him, sometimes, to hear near-strangers call him by his first name. It’s not the same, you want to tell him, but there’s no way to tell him how it makes you feel without sounding ridiculous. That it feels like letting go. That it feels like your hold on him is weakening, somehow.

Back home, it was only his parents and you that regularly called him Hajime. Mattsun and Makki called him Iwaizumi, or Iwa, if they were feeling particularly chummy; Oikawa, of course, stuck with the tried-and-true Iwa-chan. At school, you’d been the only one to call him Hajime, and everyone knew what that meant. Now, everyone does, and it pokes at something tender in you, something you hadn’t even realized could be hurt in the first place.

Iwaizumi swivels around in his chair, saying something in English. You tuck your chin into your forearms, resting on the desk, watching his expression as he barks out a laugh, loud and harsh and your favorite sound in the whole entire world.

The last time he’d come home was almost three months ago, sun-tanned and with even broader shoulders. Still, there was the same familiar press of his hand on your back as he’d gathered you up in a hug. “Missed you,” he’d said, and you’d known that he’d meant it.

“Missed you more,” you’d said, and you’d meant it, too.

The thing is this: you’re absolutely certain that Iwaizumi Hajime loves his small town.

You’re also sure that he’s outgrown that love.

Two months and two weeks ago, you’d bounded up the stairs to his bedroom, hand poised at the doorknob to let yourself in when you heard Iwaizumi’s voice, gruff and irritated as usual but with a thread of tension through it, brittle in a way you’d never heard it before. 

“-- I know it’s a good opportunity,” he’d said. “Utsui Takashi is a legend. I’ve wanted to work with him since forever –”

The person on the other end had cut him off with something you couldn’t hear. Iwaizumi had heaved an enormous sigh. 

“Yes, even though he’s Ushijima’s dad. You know, you’re the only person in the world who’s still holding on to that grudge, I bet. But it would mean that I’d be committed to live in the U.S. for the next five years after I graduate, at least. Maybe more, if they decided to give me a job there. It might mean staying there permanently. And… I’m pretty committed to coming back here.”

Another pause. 

“I know she’d understand, if I told her. But I don’t think I could do that to her. I don’t think I could make her wait for me like that. She deserves more than half a relationship, and I want to give that to her.”

A longer pause, this time, then an irritated growl. “I know I’m losing a good opportunity. I just – I can’t. I don’t want to talk about it anymore, okay? Utsui-san said I could have time to think about it, anyway. I’ll have plenty of time to figure out how to let him down gently.”

Your hand was shaking, you’d realized with a start, pulling it back to your side. You’d turned and walked straight back out of his house, swiveling at the doorway to rap three times on the frame, letting the sound echo limply through the rooms.

Iwaizumi had come downstairs and grinned at you. “Hey,” he’d said, as if he wasn’t giving up his life for you.

“Hey,” you’d said back, as if you weren’t letting him.

You’d meant to talk to him about it, you really had. But he’d seemed so content in Miyagi, in the same little town you’d both grown up in, the one both of you had known since birth. And a part of you, a selfish part, a larger part than you’d like to admit, had been whispering the entire time: Would this be so bad? He could be happy here. You could make him happy here.

And then he’d left, and now you’re here, sitting at your desk in your childhood bedroom, watching him tip back in his chair dangerously far, laughing so hard you’d probably be able to see his molars if it weren’t for your shitty camera quality.

You’re happy he’s happy. You don’t think you could stop being happy for his happiness. 

There’s just this part of you that wishes he could find that here, still.

But you know contentment isn’t happiness, no matter how desperately the both of you have been trying to pretend it can be. He’s happy there, where he’s constantly challenged, constantly pushed to be better, better, better. Where he gets to chase his own dreams and not be constantly haunted by his what ifs. 

Here, you think you could give him everything you had and it still wouldn’t be enough. 

Iwaizumi would pretend it was, if it came down to it. If you let him. He loves you enough that he would. He’d press a kiss to your forehead before leaving for work in the morning and a longer one to your lips when he came home in the evening. There would be quiet dinners and bland weekends, a soft existence spilling out before you every day.

But there would still be a hunger in him. 

It would be so selfish of you to keep him. You don’t know how to stop wanting him to stay.

“Hey.” Iwaizumi says your name, soft, a fondness in the sound that even bleeds through the screen. His roommate is out of the screen again, accompanied by a bang you assume is the closing of their door. “Is everything all right? You’ve been kinda quiet these past few weeks.”

Your stomach hurts, because of course he noticed, it’s Iwaizumi. You force a smile to your lips, although the muscles in your cheeks tremor with the effort. “Yeah, Hajime. Everything’s okay.”

“You know you can always tell me anything, right?” he asks. You know that if he were here there would be a hand intertwined with yours, or a gentle kiss pressed at the crook of your neck, right where it meets your shoulder.

That’s the problem, though. He’s not here. He can’t be here. You can’t – won’t – make him be here.

“Hajime,” you say, because some days it’s the only thing you have left to say.

He waits, silent. You can just make out the rise and fall of his chest over the pixellated laptop screen.

Coming back here, Iwaizumi had said, back when you had overheard him all those weeks ago. He’d said here, not home. Not coming back home.

“Hajime,” you say again, because you can. “Hajime, I think we should break up.”

A thud, and then Iwaizumi disappears from your vision with a muffled curse. He must’ve tipped back too far in his chair in surprise – you’re always warning him about it, ever since he’d told you about the odd chair that they’d given him in his dorm room, the one that rocks back a little too far – and fallen over. Part of you wants to laugh. The other part of you aches, a little, that this is the last time Iwaizumi will do something stupid with you here to watch it, you here to gently chastise and tease him after.

“Be careful,” you say, almost on reflex, as his head appears back on screen, hair mussed up and face red. “You’re going to crack your skull open someday.”

“I’m not going to – why are we even talking about this right now? You just said you think we should break up.” He takes a seat back in the chair, although he doesn’t tip back this time, you note. 

“You should still be careful,” you say. He’s placed his hands on the desk, where they’re in view of you and the camera, and you can see the way they’re opening and closing hopelessly, as if he’s looking for something he can hold, or something he can hit.

“What the fuck?” he asks, disbelievingly. Then, “Is this a joke?”

“No,” you say. “It’s not a joke, Hajime.”

“Why are you saying my name like that,” Iwaizumi demands. His hands squeeze into fists and stay that way, white-knuckled on the desk. 

“Like what?”

He shakes his head, rough, like he’s trying to get water out of his ears. It’s a familiar gesture, one you’ve seen him do many times before. Some distant part of you wonders if it’s too late to take it all back.

“I don’t fucking know, like – like you’ve given up already. Like you’re letting it go.”

“I’m not giving up,” you lie. “I just think that this will be better for us. In the long run.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Iwaizumi asks.

“I heard you talking,” you rush out. “To Utsui-san. It’s a good offer. I think you should take it. If you don’t mind taking advice from an ex, that is.”

“Is that what this is about?” he asks, then says your name again, so full of something that makes your chest ache. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll turn him down, I’ll come back to Japan. It’s okay, baby. We can still be okay. I love you so much –”

“I love you too,” you say, even though something in your throat is making it so that it hurts to speak. “But – Hajime, I think you love me like you love Miyagi. Or the grandmother who gives us those sweet potatoes in the summer. Or that park that you always take me to, the one with the bugs you say you don’t want to catch but I can tell that you do. Hajime, do you understand me?”

Iwaizumi opens his mouth. Closes it again. “I love all of those things,” he says. “I love you the most. What’s wrong with that?”

“You love us,” you say. “We could make you content. But the offer, Hajime. It would make you so happy to be able to study with him. Really, truly happy.”

He doesn’t contest your words. You’d known he wouldn’t, had half-hoped he might. Instead: “I could still come back after,” he says. “If you were willing to wait for me.”

“You know that’s unfair to ask,” you say. There are tears at the edge of your vision, threatening to spill over. You don’t bother to wipe them away. “Unfair to me, and unfair to you. You have to keep looking forward, Hajime. I think this – all of this – belongs in your past.”

He says your name again, voice cracking, spilling over. 

Iwaizumi Hajime loves his small town. Iwaizumi Hajime loves you. 

Both of those love him enough to let him go.

“Can I change your mind?” he asks, and you shake your head. The action dislodges a few tears, and they run down your cheeks, plopping onto the fabric of your pants and no doubt leaving a stain.

“I love you,” you reply, like an apology, like a goodbye.

“I love you,” he says, like a prayer.

“Okay,” you say. “Okay.”

“Don’t forget to keep taking your vitamins,” he says, voice brittle. “And go to bed early and don’t forget to give yourself breaks and make sure to go for walks, every once in a while, okay? Just to get some fresh air. You can’t forget any of those things just because – just because I won’t be there to remind you.”

You nod, not trusting yourself to say anything back for a minute. “Don’t stress so much,” you say, forcing it out past the lump in your throat. You may never get a chance to tell him again. “I’m sure Utsui-san will recognize how hard you work. You’re going to be incredible, Hajime, do you understand?”

Iwaizumi nods, stiff. His shoulders are shaking.

“Bye, Hajime,” you choke out.

He says your name – just your name – and you nearly fold, nearly give in, nearly buy the next ticket to California just to press your face into the crook of his neck and reassure him that none of it meant anything at all. 

Instead you give a little half-wave, click the button to end the call, and shut the laptop woodenly. Your childhood bedroom has never felt so small, with the peeling posters and the small bed, tucked into a corner, with the knicknacks and stuffed animals cluttering up the shelves someone else must’ve come in and dusted, in your absence. 

Outside, your little town remains quiet. You allow yourself to mourn alongside it.

#haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyu!! x reader #haikyu x reader #hq!! x reader #hq x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu!! x reader angst #haikyuu x reader angst #haikyu!! x reader angst #haikyu x reader angst #hq x reader angst #hq!! x reader angst #first fic screaming crying throwing up #iwaizumi x reader angst #iwaizumi hajime x reader angst

[ilylovelyz]

⍣ ೋ the times they cried because of you

☆ includes ushijima, iwaizumi, atsumu, kageyama, bokuto

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI — he never cries. you met this guy when the two of you were young freshman in high-school, and you quickly became a good friend of his. that being said, you never saw him cry. even when the two of you began dating in your senior year, you still never did. years passed, and it was the same as the previous years. sure, he occasionally got upset, but even then, he still put on a stoic display, never really letting you in on that side of him. even at your wedding, he sure showed some emotion but he didn't cry. then came the birth of your first child.

"she's so cute, isn't she 'toshi..?" you said weakly, forehead still damp with sweat, bodu trembling with the aftershocks of your hard, long labor. your eyes fluttered open, focusing on the sight of your dear wakatoshi holding your newborn baby.

your heart fluttered at the soft image of your husband holding the tiny baby closely again his chest, his forehead mere inches away from the baby's forehead. it was barely there, barely noticeable. if it weren't for the reflection of light, then you wouldn't have been able to see the way his eyes were glazed over, corners red, tears brimming at the borderlines of his eyes.

he was so memorized, so in love with this product of you, this product of his and your love. god, you just make him the happiest guy on earth.

with a grunt, he sniffled lightly, trying to mask his emotions. "yeah.."

IWAIZUMI HAJIME — he hates crying. but being the responsible and knowing person he is, he knows that crying is inevitable. but the "strong", reliable guy in him wants to punch himself every-time he feels his eyes sting at the feel of salty tears brimming at his waterline. unbeknownst to you, he would avoid you every-time he felt like he was going to cry, usually hiding in the locked confides of the bathroom. he thought he was hiding it well, until one fateful day where it all came crashing down..

"haji?" you said on the other side of the door. he immediately shot up, his eyes darting to the doorknob. he always made sure to lock it, but today, he was just so exhausted and down that the idea of a lock was forgotten. crap, "hey wait-," before he could even rise up from his slouched kneeling position on the bathtub's side, you opened the door unknowingly. "i just need my–hajime?"

there he was, in all of his fucking glory, hunched over, his face long and clearly expressing his hurt feelings. his heart fell to his stomach, his vision going cloudy as his day just kept getting worse. "hajime?" you called out once more, only your tone had softened, more light and tender. you reached a hand out to him, eyes full of concern. he couldn't help but jolt away from your hand, eyebrows furrowing at your softness.

he didn't like your tone. why are you looking at him like that? like some sad kicked puppy lost in the middle of nowhere? it made him feel so small, so weak. "haji.. are you okay?" you whispered, crouching down to his level outside of the bathtub. you attempted yet again to touch the side of his face, lightly pressing your fingertips against his cheekbone before fully pressing your palm against the side of his face.

his lips trembled as he was just a second away from breaking down, his eyes locked on a single object as to hold on to the last of his will. you sighed softly at his resistance, of course he wouldn't want to cry in front of you, but you don't understand why, afterall, what makes a person weak for crying? "it's okay, hajime."

with that, fat tears finally ran down his cheeks, his eyes shutting close as he finally broke at your words. he could only grab onto your hand as you climbed into the tub, his head going straight into your chest as he sobbed and wailed.

MIYA ATSUMU — surprisingly, you've seen this guy cry many of times before. he cried when getting accepted into nationals, winning nationals, just crying at things any normal person would do. but he never cried for you. no, he held himself to higher standards. he'd never cry for someone, not even for you. yeah, he loved you, but he wasn't about to cry for someone like a little child. all high and mighty, he never thought you would actually have an affect on him like you do now. him being someone who wears his heart proudly on his sleeve, he found himself getting into an argument late at night with you, too prideful to back down.

"are you serious atsumu?! you know i'd never do that!" you yelled, voice hoarse and scratchy due to the ongoing screaming match between you and your boyfriend. "oh really?! then why were ya' 'll over that fucker earlier? huh?!" he yelled back, pointing out the way you were seemingly flirting with a guy at the club earlier.

but you weren't? you would never do that, you're not a scum. "what?! we were just talking?! am i not allowed to TALK to people atsumu?" you scoffed, arms crossing defensively. "if you wanna consider talking as flirting, then let's talk about that girl you were laughing with the other day? huh? let's talk about that!"

his eyebrow raised at your counter, fumbling nervously as he wondered what to say. "w-wh- you know what?! fuck you! i don't know why i'm even dating a bitch like you!" he said, almost immediately regretting his words when he saw the way your eye's widened at his harsh words. the apartment was finally silent as you registered his words, he wishes you had any sort of expression on your face, but you had nothing but a stoic and emotionless face.

"okay then," you finally said, arching your eyebrow in a taunting way, resting your hand down on your hip. "bye." you followed, grabbing your bag and your keys, turning your back on him.

he watched, frozen in his spot as you exited out the apartment with your composure. his body jolted when he heard the slam of the front door, finally letting out that breath he was unknowingly holding. he scoffed at what you said, clenching his jaw tightly as he tried to hold onto his pride. "damn it." he said.

he felt the tear roll down his cheek before he could even register that he was crying. "..damn it!"

KAGEYAMA TOBIO — to him, life is volleyball. his childhood consisted nothing of volleyball, and so will his adulthood. maybe his obsession with volleyball was a little extreme, but you never really minded. he respected you greatly for your patience, he wasn't dumb, he knew that his priority of volleyball was evident, so he always tried to make it up to you by spending time with you whenever you wanted. but it seemed like after awhile, he began to take your patience for granted. it wasn't until the nth time when he didn't show up for the nth date was when he realized.

kageyama was careful to shut the front door as quiet as he could, tiptoeing as he took off his shoes and walked throughout the dark hallways and into the master-bedroom. he jolted like a cat when he sat you sitting up on the side of the bed, back facing the doorway.

"y-you scared me. what are you doing up at this time? it's nearly 10PM." he stuttered obliviously. it was silent for a few seconds before you sighed, slowly turning your head to face him. "you forgot." you muttered before turning back to look at the wall. forgot? forgot what? it was then he noticed the way your hair was done, still clad in a pretty dress.

"o-oh.. the date! i-i'm sorry y/n, i promise i can make it up to you"— "don't bother." you interrupted, voice stern yet monotonous. what do you mean 'don't bother?' you love going on dates don't you? his lips pursed into a straight line, chewing on his bottom lips nervously. "w-what do you mean? i really promise, this thursday i have a free day.." he trailed off when you suddenly stood up from the bed.

"i mean that i think we should break up." his heart dropped at your words, eyes widening. break up? his mouth was agape, mind spinning with different solutions and apologies. before he could detest, you walked over to the corner of the room, pulling up a suitcase that he didn't even notice.

"b-but why? you said yourself that me and you are meant to be together?" he cried out, quickly rushing over to your side and grabbing onto your wrist. he watched your face closely, eyes taking note of every single feature of yours. you inhaled deeply, still refusing to look at him.

"i said that when we were in high-school and didn't have any major responsibilities. things have changed, we aren't in high-school any more. you're now a pro-volleyball player with big responsibilities, and i'm.. someone who clearly has too much time on their hands, wasting it on someone who can't give me any of theirs. it's not your fault, kageyama, but we just don't align anymore."

you finally said, tugging your hand away from his grasp. before you could take a step, his hands were once again on you, gripped onto your shoulders, forcing you to look at him. "but.. you said you would be there for my game at nationals.." he whimpered out, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

it was then, when you were finally walking out of his apartment, out of his life, was when he finally did realize, that maybe, he did take your patience for granted..

BOKUTO KOUTARO — this guy cries a lot. he's cried so many times you might have to start writing it down somewhere. he rarely masks his emotions, he's an open book. thats what you love so much about him, that he's so open and honest. you love the way he's so eager and sweet, you love the way he's always willing to talk to you and so damn clingy it's like you have your own personal koala. aside from the times he's happy, he's sad, sad because he didn't perform well, or because you didn't kiss him. but you never really made him cry, you'd never do that. or so you thought.

"y/n!! i missed you!" you hear a booming voice yell, his footsteps speeding up at the sight you. he paid no mind when you didn't respond to him, as you were currently hunched over the your work desk, laptop gleaming at you brightly. your back was turned to him, so you were basically calling him for a back hug.

"y/n!" — "not now koutaro." you interrupted, tone serious and stern. he raised his eyebrows at you with surprise, his arms a few inches away from your shoulders as they stilled in their preparation to hug you. "babe? is something wrong?" he asked curiously, lips pouting at your stern denial. you never decline a hug. you love them. right?

"i'm working. can't you see that?" you spit out, sighing deeply. you pull away your cramping fingers away from your keyboard, rubbing them over your sore eyes. "my gosh." you mumble under your breath, eyebrows intensely furrowed with stress. you had been working for a few hours straight, staring at nothing but a bright screen with words that were becoming incoherent to you.

you yelp out when you're suddenly pulled from your chair, being lifted up into bokuto's strong arms as he spins you around. "don't be so sad!" he says cheerfully, hoping to cheer you up with a big warm hug. only— this seems to make you mad. "put me down, koutaro!" you yell, pushing his chest away and forcing him to practically drop you.

"don't you see i'm working?! why are you so damn clingy? you're so annoying, god, why don't you just leave me alone?" you spit out. your words are like venom, stinging his heart greatly as his hair is quickly deflating once your words reach his ears. you simply return to your laptop once you've finished, typing mindlessly once more.

him? annoying? he didn't mean to annoy you..

he couldn't help but softly whimper, left standing in shock. he opened his mouth to say something before your previous words were reminding him to stay silent—leave me alone. he clutched his palms, looking at your turned back with teary eyes. he hopes you don't find him annoying for long..

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!! smut #haikyuu pregnant #haikyu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu angst #haikyuu ushijima #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu iwaizumi #iwaizumi x reader #atsumu miya #haikyuu atsumu #atsumu x reader #kageyama tobio #haikyuu kageyama #bokuto koutarou #haikyuu bokuto #bokuto x reader

[katszumi]

Part Two

“We won.” The words left Iwaizumi’s mouth. It was the second time he said it that week. Another win for Seijoh, leaving the other team completely defenseless. It was another easy win for them.

Another win, yet another loss in his book.

He promised himself that he’d confess to you after the game. Everyday, the words repeat in his head like a mantra. Everytime he sees you, he waits for the words to leave his mouth, but they don’t. They never do.

He hates himself for it. He wished that he could just grow up and say it. Iwaizumi knew there wasn’t much time before you both graduated, and you both knew that you’d separate after.

He wanted nothing more than to cherish this time with you.

He watched as your usual bright smile stretched across your face, eyes dancing and bleeding with pride. God, he never got tired of seeing that.

“I knew you could.” It was something he heard many times before, but he didn’t have a problem with it. No. He loved it. Loved that he had your support.

There were tons of people that supported him. He was in a powerhouse school so it wasn’t odd that there were lines of people cheering his name. Yet, he only heard you. Everytime you’d scream his name, your voice would echo in his head, telling himself to play even harder to guarantee the win that day.

He remembered you wearing his jersey once. Technically, it was ‘wear your favorite player’s jersey’ at Aoba Johsai. Mostly, it was Oikawa’s jersey that was spread throughout the school. Iwaizumi truly didn’t care that he didn’t see anyone wearing his, until he saw you.

There you were standing in the crowd alongside your two friends dressed in his jersey. He remembered how fast the heat crept up his neck, blooming across his face without warning. How rapid his heart was racing, causing him to stop in place and stare at you with a tilted head. He was shocked.

He remembered how Oikawa wrapped his shoulder around him with a crooked grin. They said nothing but from his posture Iwaizumi knew Oikawa was teasing him. Though, he didn’t care in that moment. He was too happy. Happy that you were there for him. Happy you even wore his jersey.

He remembered how Oikawa faked him into going on a date with you. Well, more of a study session. All of the third years made plans to study at the library, but it was only you and him that came. While you only saw this as ditching, Iwaizumi knew that they did this so he could confess.

He was such a blushy mess being alone and close to you. Especially when you asked for help on a specific problem, his hand lightly brushed against yours as he grabbed the pencil from you, his hand immediately recoiling back as he stuttered for words. You looked up at him and grinned muttering sorry. He didn’t know why you said it, but he nodded. That day he didn’t confess either.

He remembered finding you between two vending machines, crouched down and head into your knees. Your body was shaking as choked sobs parted your lips. Immediately, he kneeled down and asked you what was wrong but you didn’t say anything. You didn’t even look up at him. Iwaizumi was unsure of what to do since he’s never been in a situation like this before. Besides, it was you. You were headstrong, it was strange to see you break down in school.

He opened his mouth to say something, but the feeling of two arms wrapping around his stomach and a head pressing into the crook of his neck ceased him from doing so. You cried into his neck, holding him tightly like he would slip away from your grasp. He thought it was selfish to be enjoying her touch like this, but only pure bliss filled his heart.

Turns out, your grades were slipping and it wasn’t guaranteed you were going to make it into university.

He remembered the wide smile that spread across your face when you aced a test that he helped you study. You took no time to engulf him into another tight hug. Iwaizumi stiffened at your touch. Unlike last time, your arms were around his neck. Your hand placed slightly below his nape. Hesitantly but surely, he placed his fit arms on your waist. For a moment he could’ve swore that you moved in closer, but he wasn’t so sure since he was focusing on not breaking down right there and then.

He remembered the first time he went inside your home. You were down with a fever, and your parents were at work. He took the day off to aid you, hoping for a quick recovery to get back at school. Your room was nothing like he expected. It was nice, and had a sweet scent.

You were embarrassed for having him see you so sick like, but he didn’t mind. You asked him how could he not be disgusted by your looks, he responded by saying you looked exactly like he always saw you. Disgusting, is what you replied with jokingly. Iwaizumi laughed with you, his heart aching with the familiar feeling he’s experienced before. More than ever, he wanted to tell you. But he just couldn’t.

He remembered the train ride home you two took that one day, not walking since it was pouring. Iwaizumi stood, holding onto the bar to keep himself balanced while you sat. You insisted for him to sit down with you since it was still a long way to go till you both got off, but he declined. He didn’t want to invade your privacy. The seat was mildly close to yours, it was definite that he’d accidentally touch you in a matter of time. He didn’t want to go through that embarrassment, nor the apologies.

After minutes of pestering, he finally sat down beside you, his legs relishing the relief he felt from standing all day. That day he learned more and more about you: your favorite animal, favorite food, favorite place, your plans after highschool, he learned it all. From the corner of his eye he noticed your head drooping, eyelids falling. In the nick of time, he caught your head from toppling over. Unsure of what to do with it, Iwaizumi did the most selfish thing he could— He placed it onto his shoulder.

Moments after, your hand found it’s way onto his. So much for ‘invading privacy’.

Finally, he remembered the solace in his heart when he heard you reject the rumors about you and Oikawa dating. You two were growing closer, leaving Iwaizumi as a grumpy, insecure mess. The practices were more tense than they usually were, all of the 1st and 2nd years confused as to who shifted the mood. The 3rd hears already knew, and they were sure why. The rumors had been going around for about a week so it wasn’t surprising that they heard of it.

Iwaizumi didn’t want to believe it, but Oikawa was the golden boy at the school, everyone fell for him. And Iwaizumi was just him. He knew there wasn’t much of a competition, he knew that you were going to pick him, and that’s why it hurt so much. He cried almost every night, refusing to speak to anyone at school or home. He also avoided you, making sure to take the longer routes to his classes and staying ten minutes after school just so you’d miss him and walk home by yourself.

But one day, there you were, waiting for him at the gates. You demanded for him to tell you why he was avoiding you, but he wouldn’t share. You kept hassling him hoping for something to slip out, and it did. In the most snarkiest way he replied with, “Why are you bothering me? Shouldn’t you be with your boyfriend?” He pronounced boyfriend in the most mocking way, that it made you sneer. You laughed in his face, causing his heart to break even more. Iwaizumi turned around aiming to get as far away from you as he could, but you grabbed onto his hand before he could take a step. You instantly shot down his assumption, claiming that it was only a rumor, that you and Oikawa were friends and nothing more.

That day Iwaizumi felt like an idiot. He should’ve asked instead of recklessly jumping to conclusions and leaving you in the dust. It was unfair. Mentally, he cursed at himself for being so inconsiderate towards you. Only one thought entered his mind for the rest of the day: I should just confess already.

And here you are, shining your toothy smile at him, eyes ablaze with exhilaration nearly lighting the night sky itself. You were just so alluring. There was never a day where his heart stopped beating for you, where that same crimson blush stopped occuring, where he would try to find open spots in his day to spend with you. The feeling inside of him was overwhelming, the feeling coursed through his veins like it was his blood, like a drug he couldn’t live without. He wanted you. He needed you.

And like he was starved, his mouth opened before he could process anything.

“I love you.”

-

IWAIZUMI BRAINROT OH MY GOSH😫

#hajime iwaizumi #hajime #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi angst #hq iwaizumi #iwaizumi smut #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x y/n #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #anime fanfic #anime #aoba josai x reader #aoba johsai #aoba jōsai

[kentobb]

‘I hate you’

Character: Husband!Iwaizumi x Wife!Reader

Warning: Angst with no comfort (I know you guys hate me at this point).

A/N: I am a fan of angst w/ no comfort in case you guys didn’t notice. I will be releasing more angst and different scenarios. Be free to send a request babes!

The night was dark, the only source of light being the faint glow of the the city’s skyline as Iwaizumi parked his car in front of his home. The weight of a grueling practice session hanging heavily on his shoulders. His muscles ached, his mind was a whirlpool of strategies and his heart was filled with unspoken longing for the comforts of his home, but hey, nobody said that training the Japan’s Men’s Volleyball Team was easy.

As he opened the door, the warm glow of the living room light washed over him, a stark contrast to the cold darkness outside. You, his lovely wife, a beacon of love and support greeted him with a tired smile.

However, your six-year old daughter, Yuki, a bundle of energy and joy, ran towards him, her tiny arms wrapping around his tired legs.

Dinner was a quiet affair, the only sound being the clinking of cutlery against the plates. Yuki, however, was a chatterbox, her excitement about her upcoming ballet recital bubbling over. “And we will be doing the Swan Lake!” “I have been practicing a lot daddy!” She spoke animatedly, her eyes sparkling with anticipation, her voice filled with hope. She turned to her father, her innocent eyes searching his. “Daddy, will you come to my recital?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Iwaizumi looked at her daughter, his heart aching at the hopeful look in her eyes. He wanted to be there, he really does, to watch his little girl twirl and dance, to be the father she deserved. But he knew the harsh reality of his schedule, the relentless demands of his career. “We will see,” he said, it’s all he says, his voice heavy with regret.

Your smile faded, replaced by a look of disappointment. You knew your husband words for what they were— an unfulfilled promise. Yuki’s face fell, her excitement replaced by a quiet sadness that you were quick to notice. It was a scene all too familiar, a bitter pill you had to swallowed many times before.

After dinner, you cleaned the kitchen, the silence of the house echoing the heaviness in your heart. But you were determined to make this right, as you ascended the stairs into your shared bedroom, you made a silent vow. To take manners into your own hands. To ensure that your daughter recital would not be another missed milestone, another broken promise.

You husband may be a national hero, a symbol of strength and resilience, but to your daughter? He was simply ‘Daddy’. And she deserves to have her ‘Daddy’ cheering for her from the audience, not from miles away. She deserved to have her hero by her side, not just in spirit but in person.

The bedroom was bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, casting long shadows on the walls. You sat on the edge of the bed, hands folded in your lap. You turned to look at your husband, eyes reflecting the turmoil in your heart.

“Hajime,” You spoke, voice steady despite the storm brewing in your heart, “We need to talk about Yuki.”

Iwaizumi, still in his practice clothes, looked at you, his brows furrowing in confusion, “What about her, babe?” He asked, his voice betraying his exhaustion.

“You know she needs you there, Hajime. She needs her father,” You replied, voice barely a whisper.

Iwaizumi just sighed, raking a hand through his hair, “I’m here, aren’t I? I’m working hard for her, for us.”

You shook your head, a sad smile playing on your lips, “That’s not what she needs, Hajime. She doesn’t need the money, or the fame, or the glory. She needs her father. She needs you to be there for her, to support her, to love her.”

Iwaizumi’s eyes hardened, his patience wearing thin. “There will be a million recitals, I’ll go to one of them.”

His words hung in the air, a harsh reality you both had been avoiding. Your eyes welled up in tears, heart aching at this indifference. “You haven’t been to any of them, Hajime. Not one.”

Iwaizumi scoffed, his frustration clearly boiling over. “What am I missing? Kids twirling for three minutes and twenty five seconds? It’s stupid, honestly.”

His mean and harsh words echoed in the silence of the room, a stark reminder of the widening chasm between you two.

“Hajime, how could you say that? She has worked very hard.” You said in disbelief.

Unbeknownst to both of you, a tiny figure stood outside the door, her heart shattering at her father’s words. Yuki, your little ballerina, had heard it all. The argument, her father’s indifference, your heartbreak. She clutched her ballet shoes to her chest, heart soaking the satin fabric.

The harsh words continued to fly between the two of you, voices rising in the quiet of the night.

“You’re being mean, Hajime.” You said, voice trembling with emotion.

“I don’t have time for this,” Iwaizumi retorted, his exhaustion seeping into his words. “I’m too tired to argue.”

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing alone in the middle of the room. As he made his way to the bathroom, the argument continued, both of your voices echoing off the cold tiles.

Meanwhile, Yuki had silently made her way downstairs. With a heavy heart and tear-streaked cheeks, she threw her beloved ballet shoes in the trash, a silent testament of her shattered dreams.

The morning after the storm was always the calmest. Iwaizumi woke up, his body aching from the previous night's argument. It was his day off, a chance for him to rest and recover. Despite the tension between the two of you, you greeted him with a kiss, almost like a silent promise that you would speak about it later.

"I'll make breakfast," Iwaizumi offered, hoping to ease the tension. You nodded, attention focused on preparing Yuki's bag for ballet class.

As he entered the kitchen, he saw Yuki sitting at the table, her eyes devoid of their usual spark. Her small shoulders were slumped, her spirit seemingly crushed.

"Morning, Yuki," Iwaizumi said, his voice soft. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"I'm not hungry," Yuki replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

He couldn’t help but notice the change in his daughter’s demeanor. Her usual bright and bubbly personality was replaced by a quiet sadness that seemed to weigh her down. He found it odd, considering she was usually excited about her ballet classes.

“You’re okay bub?” He asked, concern lacing his voice.

But his question was met with silence. Yuki simply looked away, avoiding his gaze. He decided not to push her, instead focusing on preparing breakfast.

As he was cracking the eggs into a bowl, he heard your frantic voice from the other room. “Hajime, have you seen Yuki’s ballet shoes? I can’t find them anywhere. I swear they were here.”

He glanced at his daughter, but she was still avoiding his gaze. A sense of dread washed over him as he opened the trash bin to discard the eggshells. His heart sank as he saw the familiar pink ballet shoes nestled among the trash.

Realization hit him like a punch in the gut.

She had heard it all.

Fuck.

Was it possible? It couldn’t be!

“Honey,” he called out, his voice strained. You rushed into the kitchen, eyes wide with worry. He pointed to the trash bin, the discarded ballet shoes. The sight of it, it felt like a dagger into your heart. You turned your gaze to your daughter, your eyes pleading for an explanation.

“Yuki, why did you throw your ballet shoes away?” You asked, voice barely a whisper.

“I hate ballet! It’s stupid!” Yuki yelled, her voice filled with a bitterness that was far too heavy for her young age.

The harsh words hung in the air, a painful echo of the argument from the previous night. Iwaizumi felt guilt, realizing the impact his words had on his daughter, he didn’t know what to do.

“Yuki! Don’t speak to your mother that way!” He yelled, trying to regain control of the situation.

But Yuki’s next words cut through the air like a knife, “I hate you, Dad!”

The room fell silent, the harsh words echoing off the walls. You gasped, hand flying to your mouth. “Yuki, don’t say that…” You whispered, but it was too late.

Yuki was already running up the stairs, the slam of her bedroom door echoing through the house.

Iwaizumi stood there, stunned. The words ‘I hate you’ echoed in his mind, each repetition like a punch on the gut. He turned towards you, desperation in his eyes. “Fuck, I swear I didn’t mean any of it baby. I was just tired…” He said, but his words fell on deaf ears. Already making your way up to the stairs, attempts to coax your daughter out of her room, but you were only met with silence.

He was left alone in the kitchen, the guilt gnawing at him. He had hurt his daughter, and he didn’t know how to fix it. Has he destroyed his daughter dreams?

Reblogs, notes and comments are appreciated!

#haikyuu #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi hajime #hajime iwaizumi #haikyuu angst #angst no comfort #angst #hq angst #haikyuu dads #hq dads

[hanaonesflower]

Iwaizumi finds himself looking at you, puzzled at the way you shy away from his touch. He doesn’t quite get it. But he doesn’t want to push. Hajime does what he knows how to do best; talks it out. Or he tries really hard to. Ever since he’s been more comfortable around you, his arms often swing behind your shoulders and his hands usually are intertwined with yours but he hasn’t stopped to notice that you don’t openly accept his touches.

“Honey, stop.” His tone far from harsh but it still manages to stop you dead in your tracks. You turn to see him, finding your lover standing a couple feet away from you, his arms unoccupied, flinching with the itch for wanting to hold you.

“Hi? Is something wrong?” Regardless of how it may seem, Hajime is not good with his words. He opens and closes his mouth a couple of times only for hopeless croaks to escape his throat. He looks, sad. So, so sad. His arms are being brought up, holding out as if he is collecting a reward, well in this case the reward would be to hold you longer.

“Can you come here, please?” Oddly enough you don’t protest, you don’t try to question him. Instead you step towards him as if someone has possessed you, Hajime looks relieved, he doesn’t have to fight for it. Even though, we all know that he would. “Can you, can I — can you let me hold you, please?” Oh. Yeah. You think. It still doesn’t occur to you that Hajime caught onto the way you shorten every hug, halt every kiss before it gets too deep, shake your hand away from his grasp. Physical touch makes you feel queasy, and it is oh so unpleasant. The direct linkage of physical touch to sex makes you uncomfortable, feeling like each touch has to be accompanied by sexual intimacy. Why does it have to be like that?

Once the distance between you decreases he quickly pulls you close, wraps his arms around your torso tightly. Afraid of losing you.

“D-don’t pull away just yet, okay?” You stay, without saying a word. Hajime doesn’t say much either, it doesn’t take long for your breathing to sync with one another. It was peaceful, tranquil. His hand instinctively travels lower towards your waist, and just like clockwork, you pull away, resisting the strength of his arms. You should have known by now that Hajime can rage storms with his eyes but shut them down just as fast with the way his arms bring so much peace.

“Why?” He asks. This isn’t a normal look for Hajime, he looks like he is on the brink of tears. And you feel yours begin to pour. He doesn’t deserve this. You don’t get to treat him like this. Poor boy just wants to show you what genuine touch feels like and you refuse to give him a chance. “Why can’t I touch you? Why can’t I hold you?” He feels so bad. Hajime tries to rethink about all the things he might have done that led you to feeling unbearable being held by him.

Resolve crumbling at your feet. Physical touch is his way of expressing his love, it’s always something that has always bring him comfort, stability, it has grounded him in many situations. He wants to feel close to you, but he has never felt so far away. It feels like a part of himself is always missing, hiding within you. This is cruel. This is isolating.

Without saying much you crouch to reach him, arms wrapping his shoulders, snuggling your head in his neck, situating in its rightful place. You two don’t share much words in this moment, not much is needed to be said anyway. The way he’s breaking down, longing so badly for the touch of his beloved, so much it hurts. The way his neurons fire, sending chills down his back and the way his skin heats up at the moment you make contact. You hold him and you don’t let go. You stay until you both are spent from the tears you shed. “I’ll hold you like this forever if I could, Haji, I’m sorry.” You believe that you finally get it now. Physical touch doesn’t have to feel evil, it can feel just like this. His hands find your torso again, timid, but he’s willing to try. he sighs into your touch, so relieved to be reconnected with the part of himself he once relinquished to you.

#as someone who has a lot of trouble giving into physical touch #even tho I’m touch starved #this one is for the girlies that feel the same way as me #haikyu fluff #haikyuu fluff #iwaizumi scenarios #haikyuu iwaizumi #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi x reader #hq shorts #iwaizumi fluff #Iwaizumi Hajime #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #⌑ 5 LL series ⌑ #iwaizumi hajime x you #iwaizumi headcanons #haikyu angst #angst to fluff kinda

[cr4yolaas]

second best (pt 2) — iwaizumi hajime

notes: at last, the heavily requested part 2 to this fic !! i really hope it met a lot of your guys’ standards — i tried my best to take as much of your requests into account ^_^ i rlly dislike m the flow of this … but hopefully u guys still enjoy LOL

tags: angst → (bittersweet?) fluff, depressive episode (reader), swearing (once), a longgg process of grief and healing and whatnot, alcoholism (only briefly), roommate! tsukishima, best friend! oikawa, tsukishima does NOT have feelings for you, not proofread and quite long

taglist (incl. everyone who asked for a pt 2 !!): @altumsomnum @gennaray @romanticandupsetting @multi-fandom-fanfic

it was tuesday.

a frigid air pierced your limbs and left you to rot away, with the windows shut tight and the door locked. there was no mistakening the dark bags hanging beneath your eyes or the flakes of skin peeling from your bottom lip, nor the soft pleas of your stomach or the iciness of your fingertips. you basked in eternal slumber and silence and darkness and whatnot, save for the ticks of a clock that was 14 minutes behind and the hum of the air conditioning.

you were not frightened in the slightest. the warning signs plastered on your flesh were no great concern, and you could not fathom the idea of having to function again. it was horribly consuming.

with a groan, you released yourself from bed, your legs trembling under the mere weight of the air. you avoided the collections of trash and clothes splayed across the floor, being careful not to disturb the peace that had formed over the past handful of weeks. the sight of the kitchen was much more refreshing.

you were locked in stasis. contrary to the comfort these walls once provided, they now served as a a form of imprisonment, designed to allow the grief and the sorrow and the anger and the guilt to coalesce and spill over. it was terribly suffocating — you wished to escape.

gently, you poured a cup of water (not that you drank more than a sip, anyways). a thought passed your mind.

you needed to leave.

sendai was a home you could not find solace in anymore. gone was the youth encapsulated in the mountaintops and the hidden pathways and the convenience stores, and no longer could you feel at ease when faced with the neighborhoods you familiarized yourself with as a child.

your new apartment was shared with an old face — one you had only seen glances of in high school, notorious for his glasses and upfront attitude. he bore no hesitance when taking you in. instead, he was grateful for your presence, as if splitting the rent with him had taken off his life’s burden off of his shoulders.

he was quick to set ground rules — laundry days were on saturdays, trash needed to be taken out on sundays, the dish washer had to be clear at the end of the day, all groceries were shared, so on and so forth. you weren’t sure if you could keep up.

it took one week for him to actually conversate.

“why did you come back here?” he questioned, with a tone that implied he knew of you for years upon years (which would be false).

you picked at the skin of your lip. “why do you ask?”

“no reason. just curious.”

in a burst of energy, you recounted the tales of your past life, one of love and youth and joy; of the old apartment, of your past hobbies, of hajime. his gaze was so distant that you weren’t sure if he was listening at all.

in return, he expressed brief apologies and turned the story to himself — he discussed his volleyball career, his teammates, how he felt somewhat disconnected from his high school friends. he did not care to mention the exhaustion riddled into the pores on your face nor the weakness of your voice. that was all you needed. a conversation, not comfort.

only an hour later did he remind you of his name — tsukishima kei — and it was only then that you realized you had moved into an apartment without taking any precautions whatsoever. he laughed when you informed him of the situation.

this was not yet a home, but it was a house. and that was sufficient.

a month had passed before tsukishima forced you to get a job. he was clearly not a fool — at some point (you couldn’t tell when), he realized you were paying off your share of the rent with your life savings, which irked him ever so slightly.

“do you plan on moving out and dying on the streets when you run out?” he complained, despite the concern laced in the fluctuations of his voice.

you began working at his former high school coach’s family store. the owner himself was welcoming — he didn’t question your circumstances nor your physical state, and merely mentioned in passing that he was “given a token of appreciation from a prized student.”

and so began the cycle. on weekday mornings, you would depart for work and tsukishima would leave for practice. occasionally, he would pack you lunch (“only because i had leftovers,” he’d say) or leave a can of coffee on the counter for you. you would work at the register until the amalgamation of students died down, and once you were left with an empty store, you would take a break and go on a walk (as requested by your boss). then, you would return in the afternoon to serve the same population of children, handing them their ice cream and their sandwiches and whatnot. when they all disappeared, the coach would let you free and dismiss you with a “good work today, let’s do it again tomorrow.”

returning home was your favorite part of the schedule. a majority of the time, tsukishima arrived later than you, leaving you to your own time until he came home with dinner and a drink.

it was a monotonous cycle, but enjoyable nonetheless.

“i’m cutting off the beer for a month,” tsukishima exclaimed one warm summer night. you left your room to see him collecting unopened bottles and discarding them in a trash bag with little regard. you could only frown.

“those are all going to waste, we haven’t even opened them,” you groaned.

there was no response from the man as he continued to clear the apartment of any alcohol, akin to a parent cleansing their child’s home. before you could protest any further, he shut the door behind him and the crashing of bottles against one another could be heard beside the building.

tsukishima re-entered the apartment with empty hands and furrowed brows. “what’s up with the shitty face?” you asked from the couch.

he clicked his tongue at your comment and bore no response, instead letting his eyes wander to the screen in front of you. the morning news was playing, as usual. and yet, it was so wrong.

the screen flashed to a familiar face, one clad with a slight grin and sweat spread over his skin. his hair had grown slightly and his complexion had darkened, evidence of his labor. but most of all, he looked happy. his eyes screamed with a passion you hadn’t seen before, and despite his haggard appearance, he seemed to be content.

you did not see tsukishima rushing to turn off the television. you did not see the screen turn black, and you did not hear the noise diminish. you did not see tsukishima’s face adjacent to yours.

“hey. let’s go outside,” he muttered before moving to pull you up and out of the house

a delicate breeze washed over you both. the sun began to kiss you goodbye, and the noon crept up in its wake, leaving both of you in the dark.

“he looked so happy,” you whispered. “i don’t know what i’m doing wrong.”

you watched tsukishima light a cigarette in your peripherals, his lighter evidently battered and marred from heavy use. he made no move to offer one to you. “you’re not doing anything wrong,” he spoke firmly, although you could tell he was struggling to formulate the right combination of words in his head. “he’s just… going along a different path.”

“it should’ve been us on the same path. i feel so stupid. he’s gone on to do such great things, and i… what am i doing?”

tsukishima didn’t push the conversation any further. you were grateful.

a week had passed before tsukishima told you he had gotten you a new job, one deeper in the city. on an early sunday morning, he presented a uniform and badge to you, your name imprinted on both. the effort made you smile.

at some point, a new cycle formed. the museum was a far cry from the run down family store, and tsukishima taught you how to welcome it with an open mind and open arms. he never did mention the exact reason for the new occupation, nor did he tell you why he was so adamant on enforcing routine in your life. nonetheless, you appreciated it.

the mundanity that your new job encapsulated was slightly more enjoyable than that of your former job. exploring the concrete rooms filled with statues and paintings and whatnot was a sufficient way to pass the time. every now and then, you’d catch your roommate detailing a specific sculpture to a curious visitor, the scene contrasting his typical behavior. not that you would ever mention it to him, though.

a new routine was not unwelcome, but it did not feel impactful anymore. you still burned blue in the night, your bones aching with reminiscence over a lost life. your hands and legs still knew tokyo; they still knew the morning commutes and the bustling cafés and the chirping crosswalks and your own home, one that had been so devastatingly haunted by grief. your heart still knew the morning calls and the evening texts and the handfuls upon handfuls of promises made on once solid territory, and yet, you knew to return to it was to betray yourself.

you missed iwaizumi hajime.

rather, you missed the life that you formulated in his presence, opposed to the shambles you had grown comfortable in now that you were back home. tsukishima had carved a clay pot for your worn soul, and yet you could not help but yearn for the comfort and stability and routine you established in a past life.

the soft padding of feet echoed outside your door. soft strings of light streamed under your door as your roommate entered the kitchen, his actions indiscernible as he maneuvered about carefully. you decided to step out to greet him.

a startled tsukishima turned around to face you. “what are you still doing up?” he interrogated, albeit not in offense. “it’s late. we have work tomorrow.”

“but i don’t want to go to work. i want to go home,” you protested. you felt childish all over again — the thirst for selfishness was one that could not escape you, even now. an overwhelming desire to be in control of your own life.

tsukishima furrowed his brows. “to tokyo?” you nodded. “okay… then let’s go to tokyo.” he paid no mind to the slanted smile that transformed your lips, instead opting to turn away and fill up his bottle. “but why?”

“i need to escape,” you sighed, as if releasing a burden that had been lingering for a moment too long. “i need change. i just- i feel so stuck. i need to live.”

he merely hummed in agreement before uttering a comment about your poor sleeping schedule and ushering you back to bed.

tokyo was a city of hopes and dreams and noise. the shift from sendai’s cicada lullabies and whispers in the wind to the incessant chatter and obnoxious roads of the city was significant — any pedestrian would notice the irritation on you and tsukishima’s faces.

the inn he picked was small, yet slightly more comfortable than your current abode. the owners were kind and your neighbors were quiet, save for the occasional drunk couple. it was a life you remembering living, but not one you yearned for any longer.

in the night, you would both visit various attractions and markets and restaurants, with tsukishima insisting on paying for your meals (“as thanks for getting a life,” he argued). for that handful of days, you bore a smile that you weren’t sure would grace your lips ever again, for there was an adolescence in the evening activities that mended the remnants of your spirit. you felt whole.

on the last day, you brought tsukishima to a ramen house nearby the inn and promised to pay for the meal. it was a tuesday, again.

for reasons you could not discover, that appeared to be one of the busiest nights for the establishment — moments after you had settled, a line began to form, and the tables were crowded with families and friend groups and dates alike.

amidst the composition of metropolitans stood a man you wished you didn’t have to see. as if it were punishment, he locked his eyes with yours, the shock in his complimenting your dread.

you watched as he excused himself from his group while ignoring the cheers and shouts about him “shooting his shot.” tsukishima observed in tandem, seemingly reading the situation from a distance despite sitting right across from you.

you noticed the bold athletic trainer embroidered onto his chest, and the fitted red shirt he wore that matched those of his team. beads of sweat compiled on his forehead — you weren’t sure if it was from the density of the room or his exhaustion or anxiety. a small part of you hoped it was the second option.

“hey,” he began. “can- can we speak outside?”

you could not help but oblige.

hajime seemed to have developed an obsession with fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. you noticed the frayed strands on a spot that aligned perfectly with his hand, and you nearly laughed.

he coughed into his fist before rambling. “i’m sorry. i know you definitely don’t want to see me, and it’s not wrong of you at all to feel that way, but i just- i’ve thought about you- no, i think about you every day up until now. i know i don’t deserve you at all, and me being here is probably super upsetting, but-“

“hajime.”

the way you called his name seemed to deteriorate him and his principles. you finally felt otherwise.

“i really, really, didn’t want to see you at all. i don’t even want the thought of you to pass my mind. i’ve built a life outside of you and i’m tired of you interrupting it.” you witnessed his heart, mind, and body freeze simultaneously.

“i- i understand that, i know, i’m sorry. i’ve been- i’ve been reflecting a lot recently and i’ve known i was horribly in the wrong and i’m ashamed to have done nothing about it, and i know this sounds really, really dumb but i wish i had just stayed with you for that extra day because- because i don’t think i can go any longer without you now that i have you here, in front of me. could we- can we at least… keep in touch?” he seemed to speak without limitations, akin to a leaking clay pot. he was distressed, evidently. but you no longer saw his face and thought of guilt and love and yearning; you held no space for him.

you shook your head gently. “hajime, i don’t want you in my life anymore. you achieved your dreams, and i’m working on finding mine. that’s how it was meant to be.”

if not for the small lamp above the two of you, you would not have noticed the tears spilling onto his face. you bore no sympathy — with a goodbye and a small wave, you left him in the alley with a heavy heart and saline tears.

to witness him before you had awakened the truth riddled in your sinew and bloodstream: iwaizumi hajime was no longer a necessity. a truth that had cowered away beneath guilt and fragility and shame had uncovered itself, and for once, you breathed a full breath.

oikawa seemed so vibrant on the other side of your screen, the argentinian sun kissing his skin almost perfectly. “…i miss you lots!! i’ll visit soon, maybe, and we can catch up and maybe go get coffee and then debrief and then…” he trailed off with an aloof grin, his words spilling out from your phone and reverberating around the living room. tsukishima stood in the kitchen, the sound of his deliberate chopping and washing contesting oikawa’s voice. “but anyways, i’ll see you soon! byebye!!”

you waved goodbye and hung up, leaving only the noise of your roommate’s cooking. a loud groan left his lips in the midst of his mixing, followed by a complaint about how irritable your friend’s voice was. you could only laugh.

gentle strings of moonlight spilled into the apartment through the kitchen window, the songs of the evening falling upon both of you and your shared comfort. tomorrow was your off day, granting you both an opportunity for an actual meal. tsukishima (begrudgingly) agreed to make your favorite dish, with the request that you’d make his favorite dessert next week.

“thank you for the meal,” you whispered. tonight would consist of good food and a relaxing night, and tomorrow would entail a day of rest and a weekly reset, along with another call with oikawa. with marred hands and a porcelain heart, you had managed at last to craft a solid life — steady health, steady friends, and a steady routine.

you would no longer be second best to anything, and that was sufficient enough.

#haikyuu #haikyuu fics #haikyuu oikawa #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu!! #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu iwaizumi #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi x reader #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima smut #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima angst #iwaizumi smut #iwaizumi fluff #hq oikawa #oikawa tooru #tsukishima hcs #tsukishima haikyuu #tsukishima kei #hq tsukishima #iwaizumi x y/n #iwaizumi x you #hq iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi headcanons

[noosayog]

[a midsummer night's dream] - ft. knight! iwaizumi hajime

warnings/content: princess! reader x knight/personal guard! iwa. fluff mostly, minimal angst. an outtake of it's always been you and inspired by the webtoon series I'm Stanning the Prince!

wc: 1k

--

This is a story about a time long before you married your knight. 

It’s a fond memory you have of your coming of age ball, the morning when you spent hours grooming, primiping, fasting, preparing for the one night of your life when you could finally be seen as a woman. In your mind, there’s only one person you want to notice you tonight and all your efforts would have been worth it if you get even one glance from him. 

And so as your mother announces you to the guests and you descend the staircase with all the grace that the years of etiquette training instilled in you, you’re delighted to see that your knight does indeed have his eyes fully trained on you. 

As is his duty, he awaits you at the bottom, one arm crooked behind his back and one proffered to escort you as you make your rounds to greet those who have come to wish you a happy birthday. 

You think that his simple, “you look beautiful, Princess,” could fuel you all night. You dutifully make your rounds to greet the nobles, moving through the greetings quickly and efficiently, itching to dance your first dance with Hajime.

However, when the dances start, Hajime offers your hand to the first suitor that comes your way.

“Have a wonderful night, princess,” he bows. 

And while it would be a lie to say that your naive heart did not feel betrayed, you have loved Hajime onesidedly for long enough that this does not break you. 

That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, but luckily the gentleman who has led you into the first waltz is polite and funny. His easy banter and teasing make for an enjoyable dance and when he asks to continue through the second and third dances, you think it a favorable alternative to chancing on another partner who is leery for an engagement to the royal family. 

And as you meet the eyes of your knight who stands in a corner, watching over you should you need assistance, you know he has no intention of leaving his post tonight to dance with you. When Hajime reads your gaze as a cry for help, he pushes off the wall to come for you but you simply shake your head and offer him a weak smile, falling back into step with your partner and waltzing the steps of the next song. 

–

You look beautiful tonight. Iwaizumi means it when he tells you. He’s not pleased at the attention you garner from the men at tonight’s gathering and even more so when he thinks about the fact that all men here tonight at your coming-of-age ball are predatory for an opportunity to win your favor and later, your hand in marriage. 

Purely as a knight who has protected you since your adolescence. 

There could be no other reason for the tautness that takes over his body when he hands you off to the first decent partner for the dances. 

As the first dance comes to a close, he awaits the glance he knows you will give him – to come save you from a full dance card of pesky suitors and small talk. As expected, your signal comes and he begins to stride towards you, intent to offer his hand for the second dance. 

So it’s a surprise when you shake your head and glide back on the dance floor – with the same partner no less. Iwaizumi leans back against the wall, face clouding over as he watches you dance with the same man for the second dance. 

And the third. 

And the fourth. 

There are only five dances. Will he really not get a chance to dance with you tonight? 

The final dance comes on, one he knows you favor and he would be damned if another man got to share your favorite dance when he himself has only practiced with you in private.

Iwaizumi gruffly cuts in, offering a quiet “excuse me,” to your partner and taking your hands without leaving any room for protest. He’s grateful when your partner graciously excuses himself. 

Your steps are perfectly aligned to his, no doubt a result of the hours of being your practice partner. He wants to make a gentle jab at the days you were still stepping on his feet, but you refuse to meet his eyes. 

Instead, he quietly dances, watching your expressions with each turn. 

A minute goes by and you still say nothing. Tiring of your silence, he makes an unpracticed move, picking you up by the hips and twirling you midair.

He’s rewarded with a little yelp wrenched from your throat. 

When he returns you to the ground, your lips pull into a pout and he grins. It’s the expression you make when you are suppressing a smile. 

“Finally ready to talk to me, Princess?” 

You harrumph and turn your head away childishly. Iwaizumi takes that as a win, grinning while the dance continues. 

He is content to finish the night like this until he sees your eyes stray to your previous dance partner, who is now dancing with another. Iwaizumi follows your line of sight to see the other man mouthing something he can’t make out. To Iwaizumi’s dismay, you temporarily pause your pout to giggle.

Frustration and something else he dare not name rears its head. In an impulsive show of possessiveness, the hand resting lightly on your hips winds further around your lower back to push your body flush against his. With his other hand holding yours, his pointer finger forces itself into the space between your pinky and ring finger, not quite a full lovers hold but not as estranged as the hold dance partners are meant to have. 

The immense satisfaction is well worth it as your eyes, wide as saucers, are returned to him. 

A brief thought crosses his mind at the thought of the king and queen seeing the current state of the two of you: fingers improperly intertwined and chest inappropriately to chest. 

But the night is glowing so brightly and the apple of your cheeks are flushed so beautifully and your body against his feels so right that he allows you to interpret the smugness pulling at his lips however you please.

Just for tonight.

#noos writes #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #hq x reader #hq x y/n #hq fluff #hq imagines #hq angst #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime x you #iwaizumi hajime angst #iwaizumi hajime fluff #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi angst

[malteeze]

[ BABY, CAN I TAKE IT BACK? ] - IWAIZUMI HAJIME

genre: angst/ comfort at the end

description: in an unexpected situation, iwaizumi betrays your trust in a nearly irreparable way

for as long as iwaizumi had been your boyfriend, he was always consistent in expressing how utterly enamored he was by you. from the moment you graciously leaped into his life, he could not imagine a world where he couldn’t constantly admire your every gesture. iwaizumi rarely found himself angry with you; anytime he did express his anger, it could hardly be described as such. the most anger he ever allowed himself to bestow onto you was a slightly elevated voice, or a tiny hint of irritation in his tone. even those trivial actions pierced him with guilt and regret, which led to a plethora of unnecessary apologies and promises to make it up to you. you never felt entitled to these sorts of actions from iwaizumi (especially for such forgettable disputes), but no matter how much you explained to him that it wasn’t a big deal, he would not be able to live with himself if he didn’t apologize to his beloved girlfriend. you were indescribably precious to him, and he truly wanted to treat you as the gem he saw you to be. 

you sat closely beside him on the couch, enjoying the rare moment of idle time together. you were both quite busy people, constantly being pulled in new directions and constantly facing new tasks. you sometimes visited iwaizumi at the gym during his work hours when time permitted you to. although you both enjoy the times when you run errands or complete household duties together, nothing could replace the moments of shared tranquility. your legs were comfortably draped over his muscular thighs, and your arms held gently onto his bicep as your head rested upon his shoulder. iwaizumi sat with his phone in his right hand, as he softly caressed your legs with his left. 

your eyes stray from the television to his phone, taking slight notice of your name being mentioned in the messages between him and oikawa. you look up at your boyfriend’s face as he types, and you take notice of the slight chuckle he lets out at oikawa’s responses. as curiosity strikes you, your eyes wander back towards his phone screen, and you begin to read the content of each message. 

the more you read, the faster your heart beats. you realize that iwaizumi and his best friend were discussing their relationships with each other, which you normally thought nothing of. however, the information that iwaizumi decided to share about you was the shocking part. he casually shared your insecurities and other personal information with oikawa (some of the info being sexual), which caused a pit to form in your stomach. you never questioned your trust in iwazumi, but now you were astounded by how carelessly he babbled about the things you gradually mustered the courage to share with him. 

was this even his first time doing this, considering his natural demeanor? does he genuinely think this is something you would be comfortable with?  

in a fit of humiliation and hurt, you frown and let go of your boyfriend’s arm. “iwaizumi,” you start, slicing through the comfortable silence in the room, “why the fuck would you tell oikawa things like that?” you ask with a loud voice, your face growing hot from your sudden display of irritation. he locks his phone and turns his head towards you, a bewildered look contorting his features. he almost seems confused as to why you would be upset at such a thing, which angers you even more. “what’s the problem? he’s my best friend, we talk like this all the time,” he states defensively. he definitely thinks you’re comfortable with it, but you’re mortified. you exhale loudly as you look away from him before returning your gaze to his. “that’s not the point, iwaizumi. i don’t care if you guys know everything about each other, it’s still not your place to casually share personal information about me.” the tenacity in your tone grew as annoyance violently coursed through your body. removing your legs from his lap, you shook your head and faced away from him. iwaizumi felt his patience growing thin with the way you spoke to him, and with your harsh attitude towards him. he straightened his posture and looked directly at you as he spoke, despite your stubborn decision to glare at the wall. “why does it bother you so much, (y/n)? it’s not like oikawa would tell anyone else!” he shouts, growing frustrated with your exaggeration of the situation, “my fucking god, stop overreacting. you always have to fucking act like this and ruin perfectly good moments” he leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, and rubs his hand over his face in exasperation, failing to notice your shocked expression at his words. you’re not particularly used to iwaizumi growing this angry with you. you cannot conceal how stunned you are at his brash confession that he thinks you’re overreacting. he knows how difficult it is for you to divulge your feelings, because he knows how afraid you are of being shrugged off or taken lightly. in spite of his familiarity with your doubts, he proudly unveiled his lack of respect for your boundaries. why can’t he just admit that he crossed a line? if he didn’t actually care, why would he ever deceive you with enchanting words? 

you quickly get up from the couch and move to stand in front of him. he looks up at you with his hands clasped together in front of his face, irritation building up behind his eyes. “are you fucking serious?” you utter passionately. “i’m overreacting because i’m mad at my boyfriend for betraying my trust? i’m not comfortable with other people knowing those things iwaizumi! how is that so fucking hard to understand?” iwaizumi swiftly stands up with aggression, now towering over you as he attempted to suppress his anger. “watch yourself, (y/n). i’m getting real fucking tired of you talking to me like that,” he snapped, the anger seeping through his hushed tone. despite his words, you continued to make your point fervently. you couldn’t believe that he was being so dismissive when you only wished to explain why you felt so hurt. “really?” you looked up at him, stunned. as you begin speaking again, the volume in your voice elevates. “you don’t even understand why i’m upset! i trusted you enough to tell you everything about me, and you completely ignored my boundaries!  if i wanted oikawa to know, then i would’ve told him. and i don’t give a fuck if he won’t tell anyone, it’s fucked up to just share those things behind my back!” you stare at him, your chest heaving. as your peel your gaze from his and begin to walk away, you mutter, “fucking asshole.”

the moment you tossed the insult at iwaizumi, the air surrounding you seemed to grow tense. any background noise filling the room dwindled into a suffocating silence. immediately after the words left your mouth, iwaizumi forcefully grabbed the top of your arm and whipped you around to face him. “what did you just call me?” his face was contorted into a ferocious expression, and the height of his tone startled you. “let go of me iwaizumi,” you said in an effort to be stern, but your fear and desperation creeped through. when you attempted to shake your arm from his brutal grasp, he simply tightened his hold on you. with your panic growing rapidly, you quickly look up at iwaizumi, distress painted across your expression. he had never treated you like this before, and his sheer rage frightened you. “you’re so goddamn annoying, (y/n)!” he was shouting so loudly that his voice echoed throughout your shared home. “be upset if you want, cause i don’t give a damn. you always blow shit out of proportion and i’m so fucking sick of apologizing to you and acting like i did something wrong just to make you fucking happy.” 

as the last syllable escaped from his mouth, he roughly released your arm, and briskly trudged past your unmoving figure. moments before he reached the staircase, his hand made sudden contact with the wall in a loud slam. the unexpected sound racked your body and caused you to flinch. as he travels up the stairs, his mutters of “fucking bitch” and “so fucking annoying” reach your ears. the house shakes slightly after he forcefully slams the door. you remain in the same position, your mind enveloped in a misty daze. once you finally move to cautiously sit on the couch, tears begin to slide mockingly down your face. 

you couldn’t seem to make any sense of the events that just unfolded. your ever-so-doting boyfriend who never ceased in his proclamations of adoration towards you just sliced through every bit of trust you had for him.

“i’m so fucking sick of apologizing to you and acting like i did something wrong just to make you fucking happy!”

with such bold conviction, he admitted to you that every bit of remorse and gentleness he ever expressed to you after an argument was a mere facade. his devotion to you, and his patience when it came to understanding each of your emotions was ingenuine. you poured every bit of yourself into the relationship, and you left no part of yourself uncovered with iwaizumi. he knew absolutely everything. he knew how you would instinctively draw back from him and hide your emotions if he made a mockery of your concerns. he knew your trust in him would be shattered to useless remains. that’s why he always took great care to assure you that anything you brought up to him was precious. he didn’t want you to hide any part of yourself from him, and he wanted you to trust him entirely. he loved everything about you. after three years of being with iwaizumi, you wouldn’t have ever questioned your ability to trust him. now, you almost regret revealing the deepest parts of your mind to him. he understands you more than anyone else, but he still mercilessly betrayed you. it took him so much time to earn enough of your trust to be allowed past your barriers of apprehension, yet he still dismissed your feelings in the face of his efforts. now, your eagerness to confide in iwaizumi is blocked by doubt, and you face the harsh reality that his tenderness and warmth is forced. he lured you towards him with his endearing presence, just to snatch any bit of alleviation away from you. 

the television show you were watching earlier continues to play quietly. you stand up and walk into the bathroom, gathering water in your hands to quell the redness in your face. after patting your face dry, you recovered from your previous trance, and hunger rushed to your stomach avidly. you search the fridge and begin preparing your food at the stove, and you hear familiar footsteps descending down the stairs. iwaizumi stands cautiously outside the kitchen, and offers a remorseful “hey, baby,” watching as you plate the meal you made. you don’t even bother to look at him as you mutter a dull “what do you need?” 

as you stand in front of the counter, iwaizumi takes the opportunity to walk up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist. allowing the feeling of regret to consume him, he rests his head on your shoulder, and exhales loudly. you close your eyes, and lightly grasp onto iwaizumi’s forearms, peeling them from your waist. “tell me what it is that you need, then please go away from me,” placing your hands back onto the counter, you turn your head to gaze up at iwaizumi behind you. he studies your vacant expression, not failing to notice the redness in your eyes and the slight swell in your face. hoping to find the usual love and fondness in your eyes, he sees no sign of either. instead he’s met with a stony gaze of resentment. as much as iwaizumi’s pitiful expression pains you, and as much as you want to let him pull you into a hug, you cannot forgive him so easily. the impact of his actions weighed heavier on you, anyway. 

you turn back around as you begin to feel the slight burn of tears in your eyes, but you blink them away just as quickly as they arose. iwaizumi closed his eyes and swallowed harshly, preparing himself to finally speak to you. “(y/n).. you don’t have any idea how sorry i am,” he begins, slightly uneasy. “you’re the most precious thing in the world to me, and there isn’t anything that matters more to me than making sure you’re always at ease around me.” you turn your body to face him, and the genuine worry and agony in his expression makes your stomach drop. “if you want me to be ‘at ease’ around you iwaizumi, then why did you tell me that you only pretend to care? why did you call me all those horrible things and tell me that i overreact too much?” you ask with a wavering voice, looking into his eyes. “i was stupid!” he pleads, the panic in his expression blooming further, “baby, i was so so stupid and selfish, i didn’t mean a single bit of it and i would sacrifice anything in this world to change it. please don’t ever shut me out,” he places his hands on the counter beside you, “i don’t know what i would do if i couldn’t have every bit of you, please don’t ever hide yourself from me. even if you think i don’t, i always care about every detail. you don’t ever need to doubt that.” his eyes were set ablaze with urgency and an aching desire for your forgiveness. you knew he was truly sorry, but the ability to fully trust him again wouldn’t come so quickly after the damage he inflicted. still, you knew you could at least forgive him. “iwa, you know it won’t be easy for me to trust you again after all the things you said..” you tell him honestly, sorrow in your expression. “please tell me what i can do to gain your trust back, my lovely baby,” he places his hands on either side of your face, his thumbs rubbing your face gently. “i should have never taken it so lightly, and i hate to see you so restrained..  i want to make it up to you.” 

you feel a sense of warmth spread through your chest, and you lean back a bit to face him. “all i want is to know that you’re sincere. i don’t want to be hesitant to open up to you.. please just promise me that you’ll be understanding when i mention things like this to you,” he nods, eager to soothe you by any means. “if you do something like this again, it’ll be even harder for me to trust you.” his hands glide down your arms and gently take your hands, “i promise that nothing like this will happen again.. i wanna know about anything that bothers you even a little, my pretty baby,” he wraps his arms around you in a fervent hug, and exhales in relief at your forgiveness. his heart calms even further when you wrap your arms around him in return. he pulls back to admire your beautiful expression, and leans down to place a wispy kiss on your lips as his fingers faintly travel across your waist. “i love you, (y/n),” he says sincerely, basking in the way your eyes swell with fondness for him.  “i love you too, iwa,” you smile at him, and his own expression brightens significantly at such an enrapturing sight.

#haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi hajime angst #iwaizumi hajime x reader

[emmyrosee]

If your nails dragging along his lower stomach and the loving kisses to his temple weren’t going to wake him up, the surprise tackle from his 30 pound three year old straight to the chest would.

“Told you I’d sic her on you if you didn’t get moving,” he hears you chuckle mercilessly. He tries to wrangle the scrambling child on top of him, but his movements are far too clumsy from their interrupted sleep. “Breakfast is almost done. It’s your favorite, so you’d better be at the table in ten, boo-bear.” He hears your slippers shuffle as you leave the room, leaving just him and the little backstabber in his warm bed.

“I told you not to call me that!” He grumbles at your leaving form, knuckling his eyes and turning his attention up at the tiny traitor, who’s still bouncing excitedly on her knees. “Why do you let her be so mean to me?”

“‘Cause mommy makes better strawber’ milk,” she says confidently, and he can’t even try to fight the amusement that wants to splay on his face.

“Well,” he sighs. “Can’t argue with that.” She giggles and rests her forehead against his, blinking those doe eyes innocently at him, and he groans as he tries to bury his face away for just a little bit more rest.

Too early for her to be so damn cute.

“Five more minutes,” he grumbles into the pillow. His daughter pokes his cheek, making his eyes peel back open again, bleary with exhaustion but still able to make out the adorable determination on her face.

“Go away.“

“Mommy says we gots’ get up now,” she pouts, once again prodding his forehead, this time with a finger.

He smacks his lips and casually blinks his tired eyes, an arm darting out to pull and clutch the small child to his chest, fighting back the smirk as she kicks and laughs to try and get away from his playful hold.

“Mommy doesn’t tell me what to do,” he hums, nosing at her wispy hair while she finally stills and burrows closer to his chest for snuggles. “You listen to me. I’m the boss around here.”

“Okay dadda!”

He pauses once she goes quiet.

“Don’t tell her I said that.”

Osamu, Kuroo, KIYOOMI, SUNA, Hajime, BAKUGO, Shinsou

#consider this an apology for that really bad sakusa kiyoomi angst PFFFFFFF- #osamu miya #bakugo katsuki #sakusa kiyoomi #suna rintaro #kuroo tetsuro #iwaizumi hajime #hitoshi shinsou #osamu miya x f!reader #osamu miya x reader fluff #osamu miya imagine #kuroo tetsuro x f!reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader fluff #kuroo tetsuro imagine #sakusa kiyoomi x f!reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader fluff #sakusa kiyoomi imagine #suna rintaro x f!reader #suna rintaro x reader fluff #suna rintaro imagine #iwaizumi hajime x f!reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader fluff #iwaizumi hajime imagine #bakugo katsuki x f!reader #bakugo katsuki x reader fluff #bakugo katsuki imagine #hitoshi shinsou x f!reader #hitoshi shinsou x reader fluff #hitoshi shinsou imagine #dad!au

[rishiguro]

JOB‘S COMFORTER - I. HAJIME

warnings: iwaizumi-centered. feelings of guilt. he needs a hug ngl. hurt/no comfort. roughly 1.2k so rather short.

a/n: @shoyostar this one‘s for you

iwaizumi has never been the best at comforting people.

but today he wished he was.

he immediately knew that something was up when he entered your flat— quiet and dark, missing your usual chatter, the music coming from the kitchen as you baked or cooked something.

putting away his shoes, he frowned as he entered, tiptoeing his way through the hallway and peeking into every room he passed — finding it abandoned, dark and quiet, before moving on to the next one. this went on, his concern growing with every second until he stood in front of the door to your bedroom.

his heart clenched as he reached for the handle, stopping when he heard your muffled whimpers. he could practically see you lying on the bed, a comforter messily thrown over you with your head buried in the pillow, hoping to stifle your cries.

possibly even waiting for him to come in, wishing for him to take a seat on the mattress right next to you, rubbing your back for a minute or two to help calm your sobs before pulling you up and putting your head on his chest and tightly wrapping his arms around you. he should mumble some words of affirmation and comfort, reminding you of just how much he loved you and how much he cherished you.

but he stood frozen in front of the door with a clenched jaw, his hand reaching for the door handle only to float in the air just a few centimeters in front of it.

iwaizumi realized quite early in life his strengths in athletics resulted in him lacking in the delicate handling of emotions. instead of caring and soft, iwaizumi was brash and outright clumsy when it came to matters of the heart, feeling like a bull in a china shop.

breaking things no matter what he did or how he did them — and no matter if he wanted to or not.

it didn’t even matter just who he was trying to comfort: his best friend, his friends, lover or family.

he always stumbled over his words, laughing awkwardly when he tried to crack a joke to get them to laugh. sometimes when he tried to offer some positive words or share the burden, he only seemed to make it worse, noticing how the person‘s shoulders dropped further down, the frown deepened on their face or the tears got a little bit bigger. and every time they did his heart sunk a little bit deeper, guilt weighing heavily on his mind for days after. and when he didn’t speak, the long silence was just as uncomfortable, almost painful for everybody involved.

so he learned rather quick to just retreat, let the person be for a while, either to calm down on their own or being comforted by someone else.

someone who was better at it than him.

he swallowed thickly, listening to your pained sobs, imagining your teary and patchy face, hiding away from the world, your shoulders shaking violently.

he should be there for you just like he promised and yet he stood outside, frozen, forced to listen to his lover‘s cries.

to your cries.

clenching his hand, he pressed his fingernails deep into his palm, scoffing at his pathetic self. he was supposed to be your support, your rock, the one to keep you from drowning. yet here he stood, witnessing your anguish first hand, so close to you like never before and he still refused to extend a hand out to you, pulling you out, keeping you safe.

how could he even call himself your boyfriend when in your moments of distress, when you needed nothing but comfort, he stood right outside, doing absolutely nothing to ease your mind and be there for you.

he was nothing but a pathetic excuse of a lover.

but even if he could get himself to move, to open the door and get to you, would that be of any worth if all he did was make it worse? when he couldn‘t get you to stop crying but only make your heart even more, punching you down instead of helping you up?

never in his life did iwaizumi manage to genuinely comfort someone. he was not only unable to let himself be vulnerable, but also allow others to feel this way with him, too clumsy around feelings and too brash as soon as he tried to be calm and comforting for once. so why would it be any different now?

so instead, he clenched his jaw, stepping away slowly with silent steps.

surely you would be better off without him right now. he would probably only make it worse by saying something wrong or not saying enough, when all he wanted was to help you feel better.

his feet dragged him into the dark living room, slowly moving towards the couch. turning on the small light on the side table, he sat down, staring blankly at the wall. and even though it was quiet, it seemed like he could still hear your sobs echoing through his head, making his heart ache and his fingers itch to reach out to you.

but he couldn‘t.

he didn‘t notice how the minutes have passed and he didn‘t hear how the bedroom door creaked open, your slurring steps slowly inching towards the living room.

you rubbed over your cheeks, hands fisting the sleeves of the sweatshirt on your torso, stopping in your tracks as soon as you saw the pair of white trainers sitting neatly in front of your door and a jean jacket hanging on your rack.

slowly you inched towards the living room, where you found an almost catatonic iwaizumi sitting on the couch.

“oh, hi. home already?“

your unsteady voice ripped him right out of his trance, his head shooting in your direction. looking up, he glanced right into your still teary eyes, noticing how you had hastily wiped your cheeks with the sweatshirt you were currently wearing — his sweatshirt.

he could tell that you tried to keep your composure, not knowing if he had heard you earlier and for how long he has been here, trying to appear as normal as possible. noticing your efforts only made his heart sink deeper.

he didn‘t know if it was because you didn‘t want him to see you hurt or because you knew he wouldn‘t be able to comfort you, instead leaving you to your own merits — like he already did, even if you didn‘t know.

his dry lips opened and closed for a few times, trying to say something to you, offering you some form of comfort or reassurance, but no word came out. he wanted to tell you so many things, offer you alive or just a few sweet words of affirmation or even no words at all, instead only pulling you in for a long hug. but he didn’t. instead he could only helplessly stare up at you, forcing his lips into a small smile and nod softly.

iwaizumi has never been the best at comforting people.

but today he wished he was.

reblogs are appreciated !

#₊❏❜ ⋮haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x you #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x you #haikyuu imagines #hq x reader #haikyu x reader #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x gender neutral reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #hq iwaizumi #hq scenarios #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu!! #hq headcanons #hq x you #hq angst #iwaizumi hajime x you #iwaizumi hajime x reader #haikyuu

[hqbaby]

breakup vacation — iwaizumi x reader

⋆｡°⋆✩ acting like our hearts won’t be breaking you and your boyfriend decide to spend the night together. one last time.

word count. 2.4k content. [18+] angst, explicit sexual content (oral sex f!receiving, fingering, unprotected vaginal penetration, soft sad sex), cigarette use

“Here’s to us,” you say, taking your glass of champagne and raising it in toast.

Iwaizumi cracks a gentle smile and follows suit, raising his glass and clinking it against yours. “To us,” he says, “and the beginning of the end.”

You chuckle and take a sip of your drink. “The beginning of the end.”

The two of you sit in the middle of the restaurant, chatting away quietly and blending in with the rest of the couples in the room, like nothing is wrong. 

You’re both dressed up, you in a dainty white dress and him in a crisp suit. On the outside, you look like you’re celebrating an anniversary (maybe even heading towards a proposal, if you’re lucky). On the outside, you look like the perfect couple, the kind that will last years, the kind that will weather all possible storms. On the outside, you look like everything between the two of you will work out, like everything will be just fine.

On the outside, it doesn’t look like the two of you are breaking up.

No one would believe you if you told them. You don’t even know if you’d believe yourself.

Over dinner, the two of you skip the loaded conversations. You pretend that Iwaizumi’s plane isn’t coming to take him in the morning, whisk him away to some place you’ve never even been. You pretend that your apartment—the one that you shared for four long years—isn’t sitting in the middle of the city, empty and waiting for the next perfect couple to fill its walls with love and warmth. You pretend that you aren’t visiting your parents next weekend, aren’t going to have to tell them that the boy they refer to as their “son-in-law” might be someone they never see again.

You dance around your problems. You hint at them occasionally, the things better left unsaid. You tease one another, joke around, but you never go deeper, never ask the bigger questions. You’ve done enough of that for the last three months.

When you’re through with dinner, the two of you head back to your hotel room and Iwaizumi has his lips on yours before the door is even closed.

“Haji,” you murmur against him, pressing yourself into his touch as his hands roam your body, the body he knows so well.

His fingers glide over the surface of your skin, ghost over the fabric of your dress. “I want this to be perfect,” he tells you when he pulls away, his forehead pressed against yours. His hand goes to the zipper of your dress. “Can I?”

You can’t help but laugh. After all this time, he’s the same boy you met in college all those years ago, the one who was always so careful around you, always thought you were too good for him, always tried to be what you deserved.

“Of course,” you tell him, giving him a quick peck before trailing your lips down his neck. You suck at the junction right before his collarbone as he drags your zipper down. You can hear his breathing grow heavy in anticipation.

Iwaizumi slides the straps of your dress down and places featherlight kisses across your shoulders. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You run a hand through his hair and guide him to look at you. “You’re not too bad yourself,” you say, smiling. You stare into his eyes for a moment, getting lost in the green of them, ignoring the terrible thought in the back of your head that tells you that you’re never going to look at his eyes this way ever again.

He kisses you again before you can let your thoughts swallow you whole. 

His hands work to slide your dress off you, leaving you in nothing but lingerie. You remember when you picked out this particular set, when you dragged your entirely embarrassed boyfriend into a lingerie store at the mall and insisted he choose what he liked.

“I think you look great in anything,” he told you, keeping his eyes down as two women passed by, comparing the bras that they had selected. “I don’t really have much of an opinion on this.”

You held out the set you were looking at. “What about this one?”

He dared to look, gulping when his eyes landed on the black fabric, all intricately embroidered with tiny roses. The image of you wearing it flashed through his head and he stared back at the ground.

“I think we should go home.”

A laugh. “Are you hard right now?”

“Don’t say that out loud!”

Iwaizumi leads you to the bed, laying you down and crawling until he’s right between your legs. He glances up at you, corners of his lips quirking upwards before he slides your panties down and kisses your thighs.

You pant as his lips get closer and closer to where you want him, until he places a kiss on your clit and you let out a moan.

“Gonna make this perfect,” he tells you before diving in, his tongue coming out to slide between your folds.

“H-Haji,” you whimper, moaning as he alternates between sucking your clit and licking your cunt. He’s done this a million times before, but you can never seem to get enough of it. He could do this forever and you wouldn’t mind.

But you won’t have forever to spend with him.

You savor every second of this, every time he drags his tongue through your slick pussy, every time he prods and presses against your clit, every time he stops to place a kiss on your inner thigh. You try to remember the way he makes every part of you tingle, the way he brings you closer and closer to your high.

He slides a finger into you and you arch your back and grab his hair.

“Fuck!” You moan. “Right there, Haji, right there.”

“Here?” he says against your weeping cunt and he curls his finger, making you see stars at his touch.

The coil in your stomach grows impossibly tight and your grip on his hair grows stronger. He groans against you as he licks and sucks at your pussy, drawing you closer and closer to the edge.

You let out a sinful moan. “I’m coming, Haji!” you scream as you feel yourself come undone on his tongue.

He continues to lap at your cunt as you ride out your high, legs shaking as the pleasure overwhelms you. “So sweet,” he says. “So perfect.”

When you come down from your high, you sit up and pull his face towards yours, kissing him deeply. His tongue slides into your mouth and you moan when you taste yourself on him.

Hastily, you start to unbuckle his pants, pushing his belt aside and unzipping his fly. “Need you inside me,” you tell him, the ache in your core growing again.

He chuckles and helps you pull his pants down. “Always so impatient,” he says, pumping his length in his hands. He lays you back down and presses a kiss to your cheek, teasing your entrance with his tip. “You ready, sweet thing?”

You nod, hands already coming to grip the sheets. No matter how many times you’ve done this, you always know to brace yourself.

Iwaizumi slides his length into you, filling you up in a way that’s so familiar, so normal and yet always so intense. He bottoms out and you feel his tip press against your cervix.

You throw your head back and let out a moan, hands coming to grab his back.

He starts to move, slow but deep and hard. You can feel his length glide through your walls, your slick coating him and forming a white ring at the base of his cock. You dig your nails into his skin and you hear him groan as he starts to move impossibly deeper.

“So fucking good.” He hisses as you clench around him. He presses his forehead against yours and you find yourself staring straight at him, his eyes boring into yours. “I love you.”

The words hit you like acid.

What if no one ever loves you again?

You feel a tear slip from your eye and you smile up at him. “I love you too,” you tell him. He hits a particularly delicious spot inside you and your hand flies to the nape of his neck, pulling him as close to you as possible. “I love you so much.”

You watch as his eyes start to well up too, tears sliding from his cheek to yours. “I love you,” he says, his thrusts becoming erratic. He’s pounding into you now, his hands coming to hold your face as he drives into your sore cunt. “I love you so fucking much.”

You can feel another orgasm building and you hold onto Iwaizumi for dear life. “I love you.”

Your orgasm washes over you and you can’t help but scream as your boyfriend chases his high, thrusting into you at a mind numbing pace.

“Fucking love you,” he groans, getting closer, “Gonna come!”

You moan as you feel the warmth of his cum fill you, the squelching sound between your legs loud and clear as Iwaizumi fucks you through his high.

After a moment, he collapses on top of you and holds your head to his chest. The two of you lie in silence as you cry, holding each other close.

It hits you that this is the last night you’ll ever spend together. When Iwaizumi leaves in the morning, there will be nothing left of the two of you. Nothing else to return to.

You mourn the life you could have lived. You cry for the people you will never be. You give yourselves this moment to grieve.

What else is there to do?

“What was your favorite part?”

You're both out on the balcony, passing a cigarette between the two of you. You’re both trying to stretch this moment out, make it last as long as possible. But the world continues to move beneath you. The lights from the city continue to flash. Life goes on, no matter how much you wish it would stop for just a moment.

“My favorite part?” you ask him, raising a brow. A harsh gust of wind hits you and you fight the urge to shiver. “Favorite part of what?”

Iwaizumi takes off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. “Of us.”

You hum thoughtfully, pulling the piece of clothing around you. “Coming home to you was always nice,” you tell him. “I remember calling my mom the first time I came home after we moved in together.” A smile finds its way to your lips. “I was so excited, so giddy. And I never stopped feeling that way. The thought of coming home to you always made me sick to my stomach in the best way possible.”

You catch him staring at you with that same awestruck look you’ve grown accustomed to. You think about how lucky you must be to have found someone who can make you feel like being loved so terribly, so immensely is normal. You’ve never wanted more from Iwaizumi, he always gave you more than you needed.

“What about you?” you ask, taking a drag of the cigarette. “What was your favorite part?”

You watch his face contort in deep thought, as if he’s scouring the recesses of his mind to find the moment, the point in time when he thought that what you two had was everything he wanted and more.

His face lights up. “When you asked for my pen.”

“What?” A laugh sputters out of you. “When was that?”

He shrugs, a little shy now. But he could never really be shy around you. “When we were in school,” he tells you. “And I went through that phase when I never had a pen on me. So I kept asking for yours.”

“We hardly knew each other back then.”

“Yeah, but it was still my favorite part.”

You bite the insides of your cheek to keep your smile from growing too wide. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I know,” he tells you, grinning that boyish grin of his. “But you love it.”

You nod. “I do,” you say, your smile starting to crack as you feel the tears spring from your eyes again. “I really do.”

He leans over to cup your cheeks. “Hey, hey,” he murmurs. “Don’t cry. We’ve done enough crying.”

“I know,” you choke out, trying to keep your tears at bay. “It’s just…”

“I know.”

You move your hand to cup his. “I don’t think I’ll ever love someone as much as I love you,” you admit. “And I'm not even scared of never loving again… I’m scared of knowing that I won’t ever have you again.”

Iwaizumi kisses your forehead and lets his lips linger on your skin. “You don’t know that,” he tells you. “We might find each other again.”

Part of you wants to believe him, but part of you knows that—even if you do, by some miracle, find each other again—things will never be the same. You will never be the people that you are in this moment, the two people who love each other to the point of ache, the point of no return.

There’s no going back to this moment. There’s no chance that you’ll find your way back here again.

But he inches away from your forehead and stares at you with those eyes of his, silently pleading for you to disagree with the facts, to deny the truth. What’s the point of the truth now anyway?

“We might find each other again,” you say. “And we’ll be okay.”

Iwaizumi nods. “We’ll be okay.”

The bed is cold when you wake up. You stare at the empty space beside you for the longest time, blinking in the cold morning light, hardly believing that any of this is real, wondering how you’re even supposed to go on after this. 

You don’t know how, but you manage to find the strength to sit up. Face the music.

You look around the empty hotel room. You note the space where Iwaizumi’s bags were just last night, note how they’re not there anymore. You try not to cry again. 

How could someone go from being the love of your life to an absence you will forever try to fill?

You reach for your phone to check the time. You wish you hadn’t.

hajime: i love you. i always will.

notes. smut and angst 😌 my favorite combo 😌 i'm so happy to be back 😌

#hqbaby.fic #hqbaby #haikyuu #iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi smut

[box-of-roses]

Pairing: Iwaizumi Hajime x Reader

Synopsis: You’re the photographer for the MSBY Jackals and when you finally get a look at their trainer you’re smitten. What happens when Isa realizes he’s just as infatuated with you? Will your story end happily?

Find out now in this new SMAU ft. Bokuto, Hinata, Atsumu, Iwaizumi, Oikawa, Mattsun, Y/N and more to come

Update Schedule: Inconsistent because of school </3

Taglist: open, just send an ask or comment and you’ll be added next chapter :)

Profiles 1 | Profiles 2

Chapter. 1 | Get me some water

Chapter. 2 | Mystery Gang

Chapter. 3 | Coffee?

Chapter. 4 | Schemers

Chapter. 5 | Heartbeats

Chapter. 6 | Operation Iwaizumi

Chapter. 7 | Step One Half

Chapter. 8 | Happy Flight

Chapter. 9 | Well, Well, Well

Chapter. 10 | Step One

Chapter. 11 | Suspicious

Chapter. 12 | Free Food

Chapter. 13 | He did what?

Chapter. 14 | Step Two

Chapter. 15 | Deny, Deny, Deny

Chapter. 16 | Step Three?

Chapter. 17 | Oh- damn

Chapter. 18 | Good For You

Chapter. 19 | We All Saw That Coming

Chapter. 20 | Congrats

Chapter. 21 | Epilogue

#iwaizumi hajime x reader #hq x reader #haikyu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #haikyuu iwaizumi #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi hajime #haikyu smau #haikyuu smau

[ilylovelyz]

haikyuu boys when protective of you

most likely gets into a fight, does throw the first punch, and dramatically whines afterwards, forcing you to be his personal nurse ATSUMU, TANAKA, nishinoya, terushima, IWAIZUMI, hoshiumi

so insulting and almost degrading to whoever is threatening you that the offender ends up leaving out of embarrassment TSUKISHIMA, shirabu, KUROO, kenma, sugawara, daishou, akira, SUNA, kageyama, ushijima, futakuchi, hanamaki

YOU'RE the one who is protecting them SAKUSA, hachi, bokuto, YAMAGUCHI, GOSHIKI, asahi, tendo, AONE, oikawa (somehow), koganegawa, LEV

does his best to diffuse the situation, but ultimately leaves angry and mentally hexes them KIYOKO, akaashi, KITA, DAICHI, hinata, yaku, hirugami

spends the night in jail KENTARO, semi, yamamoto, mattsun, OSAMU

#haikyuu angst #haikyuu breeding #haikyuu smut #haikyuu texts #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu yandere #haikyuu pregnant #haikyuu headcanons #haikyu x reader #haikyū!! #haikyuu fluff #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #kageyama tobio #hinata shouyou #tsukishima kei #daichi sawamura #sugawara koushi #asahi azumane #yamaguchi tadashi #bokuto kōtarō #akaashi keiji #tanaka ryuunosuke #nishinoya yuu #kiyoko shimizu #kyoutani kentarou #kuroo tetsurō #kenma kuzome #sakusa kiyoomi