#Hajime x Reader

[kirbyskisses]

iwa iwa iwa iwa! :(((

iwa who teaches you to touch yourself :(

iwa who’s there to coax you through it, telling you how hard your cute little clit is for him as you sit help on his lap, forced to look at your nude form sat atop him, trembling cunt stuffed with two of your own fingers :(

“god, baby.” he coos. “you’re so turned on. so ready to cum.”

he whispers it against your neck, sucking on the soft skin with a proud, teasing smile.

he can feel you dripping on his fingers but he won't put them in yet. oh no, no, no - not when he has this perfect opportunity to watch his baby make herself cum for the first time.

iwaizumi whose steely eyes soften at your desperate, mewling attempts - hastily pumping your fingers into your own dripping entrance, tearfully trying to make yourself cum. 

“such a pretty pussy. and all mine.” he plants a kiss at the shell of your ear. “she’s mine, right cutie? that’s how i know what she needs. ‘m gonna teach you what she needs okay, angel?”

your mouth falls open, lips swollen from how much he’s kissed you - a distressed whine falling from you lips. 

 “can’t - haji. m’ fingers aren’t like yours!” you sob weakly, pussy walls squeezing pathetically around the thin digits inside you.

he chuckles a bit - you are right in a way.

his thick fingers, calloused but so, so experienced with massaging and feeling every inch of your body - they could make you come undone in seconds.

he’d be lying if he said it didn’t appeal to him; head swimming with the image of you as a sobbing, gushing little mess that can’t stop creaming nice and hard onto his hand.

but he wants to see you draw yourself to that euphoria.

“you can. baby you’re so beautiful on your little fingers. go on, add another. my perfect girl.”

“haji’ i can’t! ‘s embarrassing!!”

iwaizumi who ignores your plea, unfurling your small hand with his own sturdy one and making you rock your grinding hips onto a third, trembling finger. who thumbs your tears away before his hands return down your body to your hips.

“shh. nothing to be embarrassed about.” he gives a low, handsome chuckle - the type you can feel through his chest and his thumbs massage your hip bones. “don’t f’rget to thumb that clit, baby - she needs attention too.”

iwaizumi who kisses your cheek while all your pretty head can think of is how good his lips would feel attending to the wet, hard little bud rather than the sloppy, inexperienced circles of your now wet thumb.

“h-haji!” you sob, hips grinding into filthy little rolls trying to create some kind of friction on iwaizumi’s sturdy lap. but his hands keep you locked in place in front of the mirror.

“iwaaaaa - s’ not fair!” you sniffle, voice breaking pathetically at your attempts to thrust your fingertips onto that innermost gooey spot. you kick your legs like a petulant child but that only makes him tighten his hold on you, his heavy body restraining you. your lips let out a whine, only able to move your wrist and hand, back and forth into your precious folds.

“don’t do that, baby. stay still and look at yourself, angel. that tender little cunt - my baby’s gonna make it cream.”

“can’t like this - iwa, i can’t, I can’t—! i just need you to touch it , please-!” you wail. the stimulation in your pussy is teetering on too much and too little and it’s drivingyouinsane.

iwaizumi who sighs followed by a little chuckle.

“okay baby. if you’re that lost… let me give you a little help.”

you sob, expecting your boyfriend’s fingers to slip inside you and relieve your fruitless efforts when instead one hand wraps around your wrist, the other pulling back you thigh to widen you more -

oh, fuck

iwaizumi who plunges your own fingers deeper and deeper and then back out; fuckfuck-no ‘s toomuch, ‘s toomuch!

the knot in your stomach tightens when he pushes your fingers into something that makes you cry out. something too wet and deep and warm and he just keeps hitting it. he won’t slow down - whywon’theslowdown?!

“rub that little clit and keep hitting that spot nice and fast. that’s it. so good for me, baby, you’re almost there.”

iwaizumi who looks with proud eyes as you gasp and spread your digits inside your own tight walls.

you both sit watching the reflection of you pussy in the mirror as it flutters around your fingers. you melt against him, unable to stop moving your fingers - he just won’t let you! :(((

“haji,,, haji - wait! wait - lemme stop!”

“it’s okay. it’s okay, you’re so close. just a little more…”

“no! no you don’t ‘nderstand - you don’ - it feels funny, iwa - iWA!” every fiber in your body wants to slow your fingers and squirm away but his hands is on yours again forcing your wrist in n’ out and you languish, the most wanton moans blending in with the schlick, schlick, schlick of your sloshy pussy.

“supposed to feel funny. Just let me help… you’re doing amazing, keep your hand like that - good g’rl…”

iwaizumi who growls and lets your other hand pat and pinch and roll your ‘hungry little clit.’ you squeeze your eyes shut.

“no, no baby. look’t me. look’t the mirror. your pretty pussy, she’s so ready to cream. don’t you want to see her do it for the first time by yourself. fuck, your legs are shaking.”

you open your eyes but the sight of the mirror is still blurred by tears as you sniffle out another desperate plea.

“ ‘jime! haji - haji- n’t gonna cum! n’t gonna cum! I’m not -!”

“yes you are sweetie. can smell how close you are. i know this pussy - you’re gonna make yourself get there I promise.”

“no, no!” you babble, desperate to move - “no Haji - ‘s not cum - ‘m gonna pee! feels like it - lemme stop i can’t hold it!”

iwaizumi who chuckles, knowing you’ll ruin yourself if you stop and he won’t let you - your fingers piston in onto that gushing bundle of nerves and he rubs your the lower part of your stomach.

“n-no, iwa, iwa - !”

“deep breath baby. enjoy it for me. you’re doing so good - make yourself let it out for me.”

and then you reach it - your whole body trembling while you thrash against him

iwaizumi who smiles, praises dropping from his mouth about how fucking pretty you look cumming for him - splattering translucent fluid all over the mirror and onto his pants with the most wrecked, tear-filled cry of “ha… ha-hajimeeeee!”

iwaizumi who loves the way you whimper when you come down, utterly overwhelmed and needy on his lap as his muscular form praises you with a smirk.

“did such a good job, baby. congratulations.”

(for @sookisaurus and @sems-diarie)

#iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime (27) athletic trainer #iwaizumi hajime x reader #smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #hajime x reader #x reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #x black!reader

[atsumutu]

“Hajime, are you bored?”

The raven haired man peers up from his phone, instantly locking the device and pocketing it when he sees the concern etched across your face.

Shaking his head, Iwaizumi gives you a gentle smile. It only takes him a few steps to reach you. “No, just checking my emails.”

Unconvinced, you rest a palm on his chest. It wasn’t like you had forced the man to come out with you. Ever the attentive boyfriend, Iwaizumi had made it his mission to spend some time with you after a hectic few weeks of work - even if that meant spending the day following you into countless stores.

“Are you sure? I know this isn’t really your thing.” you mumble, gesturing lamely at the store.

“Baby, no.” he plants a soft kiss on your temple. “I love spending time with you. Even if it means becoming your personal bag holder.” Iwaizumi lifts an arm, biceps curling underneath his t shirt as he lifts a plethora of shopping bags with ease, 90% of the contents belonging to you.

He watches the way your eyes draw towards his muscle and with the tiniest lift of his lips, he whispers. “I’m starting to think you only bring me along so you can have me carry your bags and ogle me.”

Rolling your eyes, you lightly slap his chest. “You’re the one who always insists on coming with me and carrying all my bags.”

Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow as if to ask are you sure?

Scoffing, you offer no solid denial, only a light push that does nothing to move the brute standing before you. Iwaizumi smiles down at you, endeared by the attempt.

“Seriously though, Hajime, I can go around by myself. Why don’t you go home and rest?”

Now he’s confused. It’s the second time you’ve tried to send him home and he’s racking his brain to see if he may have upset you somehow but he keeps coming up blank. Finally giving up, he decides to ask you.

“Why?” he squints his eyes playfully, “You got another man around to carry your stuff for you?” When you don’t respond to his joke, the raven furrows his brows. Calloused palms come to rest on your cheek. “I’m fine, love.”

And sure he looked fine, Iwaizumi was as tough as nails. But not even he could handle the crazy hours he had been working the last couple of weeks and you could tell he was close to running on fumes.

“Ha ha, very funny.” taking a hold of his wrist, you peer up at the man. “Let’s just go home. I think i’ve bought enough-“

“No.” He’s curt and the unexpected sharpness in his tone cuts you a lot deeper than he would have ever intended. You blink at his words, guilt, concern and a flash of hurt painting across your features. Sighing, Iwaizumi rests his forehead on your shoulder, groaning in what you guess is regret.

Your first instinct is to comfort him, so you do. Weaving your fingers through his dark tresses, you let him soak in your warmth.

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“I know, Haji.”

With a final sigh, he slumps back a step. “Shit, maybe I do need to get my ass home.” he chuckles half heartedly.

Humming, you take a step forward to reach him, mischief brimming in your tone. “Well if you’d just listened to me the first time I wouldn’t be here trying to calm down Mr Grumpy Pants himself.”

“Watch it.” he snipes, no real bite behind his words.

And in all your childish glory, you stick your tongue out at him.

Iwaizumi looks wholly amused. When was the last time someone stuck their tongue out at him? Then, he remembers who his best friend is and any trace of amusement is gone. “That Oikawa is a shitty influence on you.” he grumbles.

“Come on, let’s go.” you giggle, reaching for his free hand to lead him towards the exit.

“Hey,” he calls, softly tugging at your hands to halt your steps, “I love you.”

Despite the gruff texture of his voice, you would never tire of how softly those words would fall from his lips.

“I love you too.” lifting your entwined fingers up, you seal your words with a quick kiss to the back of his hand. “Now, can we finally go home?”

Iwaizumi smiles, fond. “Let's go home.”

#iwaizumi boyfriend of the year every year #and no one can tell me any different #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi haikyuu #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x reader #hajime x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu scenarios #hq x reader #haikyuu fluff

[seiwas]

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

wc: 3.0k

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

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

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

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

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A good life. 

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

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

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

Then, he savors it—you.

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

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

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

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

How upset would you be if he ruined your surprise? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Terr–” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You give him a look. 

He gives you one back. 

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

This is the stuff of his dreams. 

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

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

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

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

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

He cracks in two eggs. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is good. 

—his life that you now also fit into. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, this is nice. You both have time.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he hates how that’s even a possibility.  

He takes a sip from his mug.

“So, Oikawa’s taking me out on a date. Is that okay with you?” you lean against your palm, elbow supported on the counter. 

He nods, humming as he sets down the hot chocolate. 

“Hajime.” you hide your smile. 

He snaps out of it, “Hm?” 

“So you’re okay with me going on a date with Oikawa?” 

His knee-jerk scowl is much more like it. 

“That fucker asked you out?” 

You laugh, shaking your head while taking his hand to interlace your fingers with his, “Just seeing if you were listening.” 

A pause, then a squeeze. 

“Wanna tell me what you’re thinking?” 

He tilts his head slightly; one look at you and you draw it all out of him. There’s something about this—breakfasts in his kitchen, with you wearing his clothes and the morning light streaming in. You share a joke or two (or five), a few teasing touches here and there, the mood relaxed and just overwhelmingly nice. 

Hajime is so authentically himself when he’s with you that he doesn’t want anyone else knowing the parts of him that you do—

Everyone would be surprised to find that his typically uptight self is surprisingly funny when he’s let loose; he’s made you laugh a good number of times to prove it, too. 

The boys would never let him live it down if they saw him peach-faced at the tiniest bit of your affection; and they’ll tease him for eternity if they find out that the reason he taps out so early during ‘boys’ nights’ is because he still gets so excited to cuddle in bed with you. 

This is the kind of day-to-day he wants, and he knows you’re the key to all of it. 

—so, Hajime chooses you, much like he’s chosen the mornings. 

“Move in with me,” he tells you simply, two fields of olive green sincerity. 

The words flow out of him with an intensity uninhibited, something you don’t get from him very often. Your expression shifts, breath on hold and—

“When you get back.” he follows up quickly, giving you space to consider it first, “What do you think?” 

All logic is telling him he should be nervous, that this is the defining moment of another goal he’s been working his ass off to reach, but somehow, with his hand in yours, this feels easy. Comfortable in all the good ways because loving you has always been just that. 

“Sex last night was that good, huh?” 

And this—there’s never been a problem with this too. 

He snorts, cheeks turning a deep peach. 

“Just realizing that mornings don’t feel the same without you,” he admits, pulling you closer. You hop off the stool and inch closer, standing between his legs as he rests his hands on your lower back.  

“Flirt.” you scrunch your nose, squeezing his waist. 

You say that, but he sees how your smile reaches your eyes; how it glosses over when you catch his gaze. 

“Okay, muscle boy,” your hands settle on his shoulders, fingers splayed out over every dip and curve, “better do all the moving then. Want all my stuff here by the time I get back.” 

.

And he does—

When you get back, he’s contacted his landlord to get you on the lease. Your clothes are all in his (or now your?) apartment, some still in boxes but the essentials already organized in the closet now split to house both of your things. 

There’re pieces of you everywhere now, not just touches like a person half-there. A lot of the big furniture is still at your place, but that’s really just because he wants to leave that part up to you. 

—after all, it’s your home now too.

thank you notes: @augustinewrites for loving hajime as much as i do 🥹 lights down low used to be a normal soft song for me before, now it belongs to him bc of u + @soumies @mysugu bc this is kinda really so self-shippy and every time i think of seiwa i think of you both 🥺 + @ktsumu for requesting this! i know it only slightly follows the prompt but i hope you enjoy my spin on it anyway 🥺

a/n: i don't think any amount of fic can express how much i love him 🥹 but i hope this comes close 🥹

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

#iwaizumi x reader #hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #hajime iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi fluff #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq!! x reader #iwaizumi x yn #haikyuu!! x reader #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi hajime x yn #iwaizumi hajime x you #shotorus.writes #shotorus.events #how to be your lover boy collab #in's and out's event

[heartofjasmina]

Iwaizumi calls you angel.

When you're making breakfast for him cause he was up late working on training programs for the team, he'll stumble into the kitchen and take the plate of food with a kiss and a husky, "Thank you, angel."

When you're face down ass up on the bed and he's fucking you within an inch of your life, he's smacking your ass just to hear you whine his name, "You're taking my cock so good angel, fucking made for me."

Even when you're taking his cock in your ass for the first time, and you're trembling in his arms from the pleasure as he circles your clit endlessly. "That's it angel, so proud of you. Pretty little hole is sucking me in, fuck."

Just, Iwaizumi calling you angel.

#iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime #hajime iwaizumi #hajime x reader #iwaizumi smut #hajime smut #jasmina writes 🌸

[bokuroar]

12:17 — few years later | 🛬❤️‍🩹🎇 iwaizumi h.

“you’ll be there, right? right? right?!”

if it’s anotamically possible to cut your ear off without passing out because of oikawa’s incessant nagging, you would’ve done it the first few seconds he begged you to accept kuroo’s reunion dinner invite before the all-star game. you were seijoh’s babysitter manager after all so, according to kuroo, it’s just right you’re there, in which you only replied with a i’ll think about it.

“haji’s gonna be there.” oikawa says in his annoying singsong voice and you swear you could hear his smirk right through your phone.

you bite your lip as if oikawa could see you blushing and smiling through the call. after years of graduating from high school, you wouldn’t have thought just hearing his name will elicit the same effect on you.

“and?” you reply nonchalantly because you would rather crawl under the earth and bury yourself alive than let oikawa confirm your cutesy, little high school crush on iwaizumi never really went away.

oikawa being your best friend saw through your reply and snorted, “pft, if i know you’ve been looking at his instagram every night before you sleep just because you’re too much of a scaredy cat to hit him up. don’t act as if you don’t zoom in on his shirtless pi—“

“oh my god, fine! i’ll go to this freaking dinner so please for the love god shut the hell up! ” you exasperatedly sigh wanting to tolerate oikawa’s teasing no longer not because it’s untrue but because you felt like you were caught committing a crime. it’s a curse and a gift you have a best friend that knows everything about you.

you hear oikawa shriek through your phone in celebration and about being there at 6, so you mutter a good bye before he lays out a plan that involves dragging you wherever into the night.

as if on cue, your phone lights up with a notification from your old group chat when the call ended,

✉️ t. oikawa: see you all on saturday!!!! no backsies!!!!!! :p

you roll your eyes knowing he’s talking about you. you were about to hit send on a message something about being him still being an annoying ass when another bubble popped in your screen that made you rewrite everything you were about to say.

✉️ h. iwaizumi: im back too 🇯🇵 see you guys :)

✉️ you: i’ll be there ☺️

come saturday, you’re standing in front of the restaurant which every nook and cranny you’re familiar with as this was a popular go-to after-school-dinner-place during your younger years with the team. you try your best not to look frantic while you check your phone at least every 10 seconds to tell oikawa “wru >:(”

you were about to hit the call button when you hear somebody clear their throat. as a reaction, you step away from where you were standing thinking you were probably blocking the entryway.

“sorry i was just w— oh. haji?” you take these few seconds to take him in—the way his shirt hugged his biceps, the watch that also somehow added to his attractiveness, his skin that’s more tanned, his freshly cut hair, and his smile. god, that smile. so many things have changed about him since he last visited home but his kind, subtly giddy smile still reached his eyes.

“been awhile, hasn’t it?” iwaizumi sheepishly say and you hold back a gasp when he scratches the back of his head that flexed his arm.

“it’s been.. yeah? yeah, it has. i mean. yes..” you nervously laugh, mentally kicking yourself for tripping over your words.

you feel your cheeks redden, not from the cold air of the darkening day but because of the manly, handsome laugh that bubbles from iwa’s chest. “watcha doin’ out here, though? waiting for a someone or..” he drags his sentence hoping you don’t hear his silent prayer that you are romantically available.

you snort before you could even think about it, “no, c’mon it’s not like that.” you laugh and went on to tell the tale of oikawa begging you to come, “i’m waiting for that idiot tooru who went several measures to make sure i’m here.”

“you two were thick as thieves, weren’t ya? i’m glad you stayed in touch even if that shithead went abroad.” iwaizumi smiles and you can’t resist staring at how he threw his head back when he laughed at oikawa’s typical antics.

“wish we did too, y’know. i missed ya.” iwaizumi suddenly confesses, “i just found myself wanting to talk to you when i was out there.”

to say your heart felt like it dropped on your feet was an understatement. it’s like everything froze—the leaves halted midair, the world went silent and the only sound you could hear was the loud thump of your heart. all what you manage to let out is, “o-oh? you did? really?”

iwaizumi looks at you like you just asked the most ridiculous question, “‘course i did. we talked every day then! remember how i used to walk you home after our trainings then stop by that dang old ramen place that was there since forever? missed hanging ‘round with you and the team ‘tis all.”

you smile as you look at the ground, shyly but fondly recollecting all the simple but sweetest moments with iwaizumi you cherish so much. with his sudden reminiscing, you recall the sort-of debate you had with him because he kept on insisting he should always walk you home.

“r-right. the team. yeah, i missed them too.” you say as you shake your head along with the thought of having a chance of romance with your longtime friend.

“we should go inside. fuck that tardy tooru i think a lot’s of them here.” you casually laugh and walk towards the door until you felt a hand on your wrist.

iwaizumi shoots you a grin, “what do you say the two of us go grab that ramen? for old time’s sake?”

a/n: so .. uh … im back ! hope everyone’s still here 😅🫣 anw this was supposed to be just a drabble but i got a lil carried away & im alr thinking of writing a pt 2 .. wdyt hehe

#✏️.haikyuu!! #💭.iwaizumi #i love them . A LOT #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu headcanons #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi imagine #iwaizumi hajime #hajime x reader #iwaizumi x y/n

[prettyboytsum]

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ first night back I iwaizumi hajime cw: afab! reader, dirty talk, oral (receiving) disclaimer: all characters are aged up! mdni! wc: 521

the first night iwaizumi was back in japan for good was surprising, to say the least. it was one of the few times where he didn’t have to cram a year’s worth of dates in two weeks or soak in your presence because he wouldn’t be able to see you for the next couple of months.

the plan was for him to stay over in your new tokyo apartment for a couple of weeks. he claimed that it would be a closer drive and it’d give him time to figure out when he wanted to go back to the prefecture. the added bonus of seeing you every day, even if only for a short period, was enticing enough for someone who spent the majority of the last four years calling the love of his life. so, as any loving partner would, you had assumed that he’d be tired from his roughly ten-hour flight from california to japan based on all his planning. the sheets were just changed, his favorite scented candles were lit and you made sure to cook up a feast for when he arrived home. you went above and beyond for his trip back. one thing you didn’t account for was that he missed you—in more ways than one. ”fucking missed this pussy,” iwaizumi groans to himself before he buries his face between your thighs. he eats you out like a starved man, your clothes strewn on the kitchen floor the moment he saw you. ”haji,” you whine, short pants escaping your soft lips as you gripped his hair. for all the things you had prepared for, you didn’t expect him to be needy as soon as he landed. ”nobody even came close to how gorgeous you are, baby,” iwaizumi says, pulling you closer to his lips as you grip the island counter. “can’t believe i was away from you for this long—god, i’m gonna fuck you every night.” ”haji,” you moan louder, throwing your head back in pleasure as he fucks you with his tongue. your body gets warmer—you’ve never seen your boyfriend this desperate and you’d be a liar if you said it wasn’t turning you on. ”yeah?” he whispers, planting quick kisses on your thighs before looking up at you. “bet you missed this dick, huh? fingers just weren’t big enough for your pretty cunt.” you nod, biting your lip as you take a proper look at him. his eyes were blown with lust, his voice husky with need and want—a tone that you haven’t heard from him in far too long. you felt yourself get wetter at the sight, squeezing your thighs together. a movement that doesn’t go unnoticed by him. iwaizumi knows that he looks good, he’s tan from the seaside sun, he’s in the best shape of his life—and there’s nothing more dangerous than a man who knows how attractive he is. ”’s okay, princess,” he replies, giving you a boyish smile that only makes your heart stutter and knees buckle. “gonna make you feel so good that you’ll feel me inside of you for days, alright? jus’ let me spoil my girl.”

✩ author's note: me when i cut it off right before they get down and dirty </3 I SWEAR A FULL FLEDGE TOE CURLING SMUT IS IN THE WORKS ... in the meantime, enjoy a (potentially) part 1 drabble on pussy starved iwa! ⓒ prettyboytsum 2024. all works are posted under this account on tumblr.com and are protected by copyright laws. do not plagiarise these works on any other platform or account.

#₊˚⊹♡₊ luna writes #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader smut #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi smut #iwaizumi x reader #hajime x reader #haikyuu fic #haikyuu smut #haikyuu #haikyuu drabbles

[konigbabe]

steal the thunder - I -

Pairing: Hajime Kashimo x fem!sorcerer!reader Word count: 5.8k Tags/warnings: no y/n; unhinged reader; manga spoilers (Culling Games + Perfect Preparation arcs); fight description; canon-typical violence; there will be eventual smut in the later parts fyi Summary: There's murder in the air – with the Culling Games underway, a simple task of finding an angel turns to a fight for life when you meet a certain, static and 400 years old sorcerer with cyan hair and wicked intentions.

Artwork by poro (poro06625649) on Twittter [source]; divider by @skylightlantern [source] For a better understanding of the reader's CE and CT, visit this Tumblr post.

masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

There's murder in the air – an unsettling undertone that pollutes the atmosphere. Gentle breeze carrying the metallic fragrance of blood within its currents.

The dockside keeps quiet. Sky clear, devoid of seagull calls. Walking by colossal steel shipping containers, stacked high, the scent persists. Clings to the air like a persistent specter. Each step accompanied by the gentle lap of waves against the pilings, their rhythmic cadence a stark contrast to the horrors you've seen.A soothing lullaby in the midst of chaos.

The maze-like layout of the quayside comes to an end when your muscles strain, lifting off the ground and landing atop the steel structure.

A giant panda comes into view. Its relaxed posture, perched on hindlimbs, contrasts with its impassive countenance as it gazes your way.

"Panda," you address what some might believe to be an actual animal; innocent, cute and completely harmless. Except for this Cursed Corpse – your subordinate – is none of those things.

He fixes you with your very name; a disturbing familiarity in his eyes, then the words escape his lips.

"The smell of blood's so thick," he voices as you draw near, words cutting through the tension. "There must be about three people dismembered here–"

You hold up two fingers, the other hand nestled in your pocket.

"Two actually," you intervene, voice a measured interruption, "walked past a man with a hole the size of a soccer ball in his chest."

The memory resurfaces – the sight of the man, head drooping, neck bent at an unnatural angle. Eerie web-like burns sprawled across his bare flesh. The smell of singed skin and ozone hangs in the air, a pungent reminder. Yet, it's not just that which jolts your senses. It's the residual static of someone's cursed energy, an unsettling presence that lingers.

"But that's not what troubles me," continuing, you stand next to Panda, arms now crossed as both of you watch the lifeless skies, "something bad's here. I tried following the remnants of the cursed energy of the perpetrator but it was very faint."

"Could be an expert who can turn their cursed energy on and off at will…" Panda thinks out loud.

You let the idea sit for a second. Could it be the case? Could someone in this colony be capable of doing it? Known, registered sorcerers are absent here. The majority are newly awakened, scarcely equipped to comprehend a sophisticated notion like this. And why would they feel the need to hide their cursed energy?

No.

Dismissing your doubts, you shake your head and stride toward the edge of the shipping container.

"Don't think so. Nevertheless, we're here to find that angel girl and negotiate with her." Stepping onto the container's edge, unfazed by the high drop; balancing skillfully, you extend one leg over the edge, about to step into empty space. In a seamless motion, you touch down on the solid concrete ground below.

Panda follows suit, rolling off the shipping container with agility, landing right beside you. Then he stands, an odd combination of human-like stance and panda appearance, more akin to a person in a panda costume than an actual animal.

"Our safest bet is to leave the docks. Fast. Just play pretend, avoid any unnecessary conflicts and make it out of this colony in one piec–"

The sentence's left hanging as a sudden shift in the atmosphere catches your attention. Panda falls on all fours, frozen still.

"Ah," a deeper, resonant voice rumbles from your right, the words echoing as the familiar sensation washes over you. A sudden buzz inside your mind, an abrupt surge of awareness regarding another sorcerer's presence. Heart mirroring the rapid flutter of a startled bird's wings.

Their cursed energy, concealed and latent, manages to evoke an almost primal response within you. A sense of fight or flight.

You pivot to face the uninvited presence before you.

A cascade of hair, vivid as a robin's egg and kissed by the hues of a clear summer sky, is gathered into twin buns atop his head while tendrils of untamed locks dance freely in the breeze, resembling a stormy sea. Longer bangs frame the contours of his face, softening his visage.

He stops when his eyes – the same uncanny shade as his hair – bore into yours. Carrying what you'd guess is a Nyoi staff slung over his shoulder, he stands at a slight angle. Excludes casual confidence, a sense of poised readiness.

"Another one," he breaks the silence. You stand your ground in response to his observation.

"Not interested in a fight," you remark, hands risen in a defensive gesture. Yet you don't dare take your eyes off the sorcerer. Ready and composed.

Panda, ostensibly cautious, inches closer to you, fur bristling in sync with his unease towards the newcomer's presence. The air tightens, charged with the unspoken potential for violence.

"Kogane," he calls out to the shikigami, summoning it like a wisp from the aether; the small creature materializes, its hue the shade of a serene lake, light and amicable as it floats near his head, "is the panda a player too?"

The shikigami screeches its answer, its words setting everything in motion.

"Indeed!! A player! Yep!!"

"That's a function," your pondering voice meets a forced silence. The state of perturbed ambiance vanishing as your thoughts are cut off.

A flesh of white. Empty space occupies the spot where the sorcerer was standing less than a second ago.

You sense his presence before your eyes even settle on his countenance; his eyes, framed with short zig-zag lines reminiscent of lightning bolts underneath them, a furious cauldron of murderous excitement as they lock onto yours. They widen with a manic intensity. An undertone of madness lurking deep within their depths.

A predator's gaze fixated on its prey.

In a heart-stopping moment, time stands still. The world around you fades into a blur as a primal instinct takes over. Your body reacts; a precision born of pure reflex – muscles coiled like springs, you counter his attack with a swift and calculated movement.

His volatile energy crackles in the air. Your hands snap up. Fingers attempting to curl around his bandaged forearm. Channeling your cursed energy to your clavicles, the place where his palm lays flat against you –

But your reactions prove inadequate. You're too slow. A shocking speed and heavy push; a surge of force is sent through your body, catching you off-guard. The ground beneath you becomes a temporary adversary. Your balance disrupted as you're sent flying backward.

Back colliding with the hard, metal steel of a shipping container – you watch in horror as the sorcerer mercilessly attacks Panda. Using his staff as a weapon. With unnatural speed and agility, Panda struggles against him; his valiant resistance a testament to his determination, his form a blur of motion as he evades the sorcerer's attacks and manages a few good blows of his own.

Your body feels light. A tingling sensation surging through your veins. Electric current's rushing beneath your skin, setting your pulse racing and your focus to a razor's edge. The metallic taste of blood floods your mouth. Mingles with the adrenaline in your body. Every nerve firing in response to the raw energy pulsing through your body.

It hits you then–

"Heh, electricity," you mumble, the word slipping from your lips as you raise your palms, clenching your fists. Feeling the tingling in the tips of your fingers. The slight buzzing in your ears.

–his cursed energy has a special trait. One certainly hard to defend against.

Barely seconds have passed since your body was forced to rest against the ground. It still feels too long with Panda barely matching the man's speed and force.

Gritting your teeth, the urgency of the situation anchors you, overriding any pain or disorientation as you fight to regain your footing. A sense of pride fills you when you watch Panda use his technique, striking the sorcerer with enough force that'll easily knock him out cold. One of Panda's winning moves.

Except it doesn't.

"Nice one," the man's voice rings out. A taut smirk playing at the corner of his lips. Your teeth clench, disbelief intertwining with unease as you watch. With a predominated precision, the sorcerer maneuvers his staff, entwining it with Panda's arm in a smooth motion that catches you off guard.

Exerting a forceful pull, he forces a grimace from Panda. Right arm caught in the vice-like grip, a sickening crack underscores the moment. Followed by the nauseating sensation of Panda's arm being torn from his body. Violently. And mercilessly.

Panda stumbles. Pain and agony escaping in a cry. The sorcerer doesn't waste a second. Hurls the arm back at Panda, using the momentum to charge forward. Palm aiming flat against his chest, he sends Panda flying backward – the same way he did to you. Causing your junior to experience a similar sensation to yours.

The cyan-haired man straightens, seemingly relaxing, already content with winning the fight.

"But I'm not impressed," he taunts, words an ominous echo of the violence just unleashed, "It's too ordinary."

Feeling the concrete beneath your feet, you take deliberate steps forward. With an inkling of Panda's potential strategy, you expel the pooled blood from your mouth, spitting it onto the ground.

"...Sukuna, you know where he is?" The man's words flow, attention diverted, ignorant of your presence.

A fortunate circumstance.

"No clue," Panda responds. His reply burdened with weariness and defeat; yet his gaze remained fixed on you, a silent exchange of understanding passing between you as you position yourself, tension radiating from his weary form.

The sorcerer scoffs; a contemptuous tilt of his head, a gesture laden with superiority. "Sounds like you know something, then," he snarls, his grip on the staff constricting as his fist clenches, "Spit it out. I'll be merciful."

With the sorcerer's back turned you raise your arm. Your gaze remains fixed upon the convergence point of the two delicate lines, their path crossing at the very heart of the expanse that's the upper part of his broad back.

"I won't be," you declare; voice carrying a firm tone. A deft flick of your wrist – the current of cursed energy takes the desired shape before it's hurled toward your target. Slashing the air in front of you, aimed right at him.

His gaze veers to the side. And in a fraction of a heartbeat, he moves; executing a skillful sidestep. Body positioned to face you from the side, both hands now gripping his staff, aiming it at you; a glint of fervor ignites his eyes as they widen, locked onto the shipping container stationed behind Panda. The unforgiving force of your attack rends the shipping container apart, leaving two gaping slashes that could bisect a man.

You don't give him time to react properly.

The moment blood begins to stain his white robe crimson red from the nick on his shoulder, you lunge forward. Like a bull being waved a red flag. Feet imbued with your cursed energy, reinforced to ensure protection.

As you close the distance at a breakneck pace, you sense the distinct composition of his cursed energy. With your fingers curled around the staff, your eyes meet his, a faint grin playing at the corners of your mouth as you tug on his weapon with your full body weight. Lifting your legs off the ground, you use the staff as a fulcrum. His body feels resilient, akin to forged steel, against the soles of your shoes.

With the potency of your cursed technique coursing through your strike, the man is propelled backward, his body hurtling through the air. The Nyoi staff clings to the concrete. Left untouched upon the impact.

Flying through a shipping container, he quickly finds his footing. Stance shifting in response to your aerial maneuver. Legs splayed to establish a firm foundation, you focus your intent on targeting his jaw. Fists charged with cursed energy, you hit once; knowing how troublesome the push-and-pull effect of your technique feels once your flesh makes contact–

"Not bad," he manages to spit out, the corner of his lip stained red. A smile tugs at the corner of his lip as you sprint toward him.

The surroundings blur into a muddled backdrop, irrelevant in your unwavering concentration. The sorcerer becomes the sole axis, a focal point in a world that seems to slow to a crawl, even though only a fraction of a second has passed.

The tip of your foot touches his; a mere whisper of contact between two opposing forces.

"Not bad at all."

–he counterattacks. Hand darts forward. Grabs your wrist. With an economy of motion, he employs your own momentum against you. His grip becomes a pivot, briefly throwing you off-balance, diverting your forward surge into an unexpected spiral.

Fluidity. That's how you'd characterize his movements. A seamless transition from being a passive target to an active agent.

His chest brushes against your back as his right hand remains locked around your right wrist. Single-handedly swinging your body like a marionette, you exploit the vulnerability of your position. Using his grip as leverage to move backward, simultaneously grabbing hold of his bandaged left forearm and pulling. Crashing your body into his, redirecting the movement into a collision.

With a potent surge of intention, you force the prepared rejection and attraction effect within your clenched fist, propelling it like a bolt toward the rear of your skull. Teeth gritted, you throw your head back.

Crack.

He stifles a groan, a step taken back but footing resolute. A red trail paints his nose as you swivel to confront him. Pausing briefly to charge your energy again, you grant him a moment to speak. His expression freezes as he locks eyes with you

"You," he speaks up, his voice textured with the tang of iron as his tongue grazes his lips, "Have we met before?"

With your hand still tingling, the ripples of sensation spread up your arm, an electric current tracing a pattern beneath your skin. Your head sways subtly, dispelling the notion of a previous encounter. "Unlikely. You'd be history."

A chuckle dances from his lips, a response to your retort. "What's your name then?"

You share it deliberately, each syllable a measured beat in your dance around one another. He nods, his head tilting with self-assured grace. It's then that he takes his stance – feet planted firmly, palms outstretched, a grin playing on his lips.

"The name's Hajime Kashimo."

The words hang, a telltale echo–

Hajime Kashimo.

–recognition snaps into place when you repeat his name in your mind.

The Hajime Kashimo, the sorcerer whose score reaches a hundred points; a mark that sets him apart from any other Culling game player (except for the intricate Hiromi Higuruma). Hakari's elusive target.

And here, right before you, stands the man himself.

"Hey," you call out, a new determination blossoming, your stance embracing the challenge; retreat is no longer a consideration, "if I beat you, can I get your points?"

The corners of Kashimo's lips twitch, smile fading like a wisp of smoke carried away by the wind. Expression blank, with only his brows furrowed as he responds, "Sure, but you tell me everything y'know about Sukuna," his voice lowered to a dangerous undertone, a velvet threat veiled in words, "that is–if you're still alive."

He charges then. Doesn't spare a single consideration. The air crackles with tension as his presence engulfs you. His hands make contact – not with fists or strikes – but with the calculated pressure of his open palms. You feel the weight of his touch on your skin. Pressure on your left, then on your right ribcage.

"Don't disappoint me now," breath tickles your ear, voice a tantalizing, dangerous melody. His fingers anchor firmly onto your right shoulder, an assertive grip that both commands and unsettles, while his other hand exerts a calculated force on your left shoulder guard, propelling you into a spin.

Your training surges forth, a symphony of muscle memory and instinct harmonizing within you. With the resilience born of countless battles, you swiftly adapt your stance, shifting your weight to face him.

An annoyed huff leaves your now-bruised lips. You channel your own cursed energy, a torrent of power surging through your veins.

Detain an attack when it comes,–

Knees bending, body swaying to evade the incoming fist; your left hand grips his left wrist, fingers tightening with determination, followed by your right driving into its intended mark.

–and send it away when it retreats.

Your palm meets the solid plane of his chest with a resonant thud; pushes and then pulls him back to you before sending him away again; successfully pushing back against Kashimo's pressure. It's a momentary reprieve. One that sends the sorcerer tumbling back, makes him roll on the ground, lending on one knee.

"Here I thought we were just getting started," you quip with a hint of playfulness amidst the dance of combat. Moving swiftly towards the target. As Kashimo's force ebbs, you seize the opportunity, your muscles coiling like springs.

"You're getting me–" he barely makes it back to his feet before you're at him again. With enough cursed energy imbued into your foot, utilizing the momentum of your motion, leg rising up in a calculated kick – only for Kashimo to shift; a fraction of movement that proves decisive. His arm weaves beneath the arc of your thigh, a sinuous and serpentine maneuver that seeks to entwine and subdue. As his grasp tightens, his fingers snake around your throat, lifting you from the ground, suspending you momentarily.

"–quite excited," he concludes, his voice tinged with an eerie excitement.

Once the hand is freed from contact,–

A heartbeat's pause feels like an eternity. With your legs rendered weightless and no stable ground beneath you. Despite the vulnerable position, your mind remains steadfast, honing in on Kashimo's Achilles heel. His hands are preoccupied, his grasp unwavering but his neck and face exposed.

–carry out a strike with it.

Seizing the opportunity, you make the most of the opening. Your palms press against the sharp contours of his cheeks, each hand finding its place on one side of his face. In one swift and deliberate motion, you channel the wellspring of cursed energy that resides within you into your technique. The currents of your energy converge between your palms, weaving a tapestry of arcane force that manifests as a palpable vacuum, centered precisely where his head rests.

It's an intentional manipulation. One – if done right, that is – could even lead to a cataclysmic implosion. A violent severing of life from the body. But you don't want to kill him; not yet at least. You need the points. And so, you temper your approach, exerting only the necessary amount of energy to induce a sensation of compression.

As the feeling envelops him, Kashimo's expression shifts, a flicker of realization that dances within his eyes. He instinctively withdraws. Bandaged forearms push at your body, sending you hurtling backward; a testament to his strength and strategic finesse.

"You cheeky little thing," a bead of blood traces a path from the corner of his eye. At the same time, another droplet emerges from his nose.

This time it's him who doesn't let you regain enough control as he charges at you. His approach swift and unrelenting. The tables are constantly turning – now being his time to dictate the tempo.

Another dance of offense and defense plays out as the two of you clash once again. Each move a deliberate response to the other's actions.

Chase the movement of the opponent–

As the flurry of his strikes slices through the air, you find yourself navigating the ebb and flow with a synchronicity that borders on the sublime. With a hawk-like focus, you track the trajectory of his hand, your senses attuned to his every motion.

While his hits continue to swing through both empty space and meeting your body, a fleeting opportunity presents itself. With the precision of a seasoned sorcerer, you follow the path of his hand with your own, fingers closing around his forearm as it narrowly misses your cheekbone, the other digging into the open slash wound on his shoulder.

–to continue the attack.

It earns you a hiss. A "Tsk," coming from his damaged lips.

One fluid motion; one that belies your strength. You capitalize on the momentum of his own swing, utilizing your grip to exert control. Your foot surges forward with unbridled force, the sole of your shoe connecting with the vulnerable juncture of his knee.

Kashimo's reflexes kick in as he instinctively leaps back the moment your foot makes contact with his leg. His visage bears the marks of battle, a canvas adorned with streaks of red, the vestiges of blood from the prior exchange. A mirror to his appearance, your own face likely reflects a similar narrative. Marked by the intensity of the confrontation. By his pure, physical prowess. One that, even if you use all your cursed energy, you're certain you couldn't match.

The shadows of weariness begin to cast their subtle touch on you. A weight that tempers your movements and shadows the clarity of your thoughts. Each calculated step, each strategic strike, seems to bear an additional burden now.

Still, resolute, your unwavering determination fixated on Kashimo, persevering in the face of creeping exhaustion.

Then you take off.

With a surge of action, you propel yourself into motion. Pivoting on your heel, you sprint toward the towering container crane a mere few meters behind. Kashimo's quick thinking registers in the corner of your vision—a flash of white on your right, drawing nearer.

"Running so soon?"

His taunting words reach you.

"Just limbering up," you reply. Muscles tensing, you feel his energy almost brushing against your own. So, with a leap, you vault into the air. Fingers curling around your ankle.

Time seems to slow as Kashimo's grip tightens around your ankle, his fingers like a vice attempting to anchor you to the ground. The world spins around you, the crane's towering structure becoming a blur as your body is abruptly yanked back, denied the freedom of flight.

Instinct kicks in, your mind racing to find a solution. With a swift twist of your body, you channel the energy within, your cursed power surging to your fingertips. A burst of force courses through your arm, the concentrated energy propelling your free leg forward in a powerful kick. Your heel connects with Kashimo's face, the impact forcing his grip to release.

In the split second of regained freedom, your body soars toward the container crane.

Muscles strained, you manage to grab hold of a protruding metal edge, fingers gripping with an iron determination. The harsh clang of metal meeting metal reverberates through the air as your body comes to a halt, swinging slightly from the momentum before you propel yourself higher onto the structure.

A smirk tugs at the corners of your lips. The distance between you and Kashimo now a tangible reminder of your evasion. His frustrated gaze meets yours, the tension between you electric and palpable.

"Nice try," you retort, voice laced with a mixture of weariness and defiance. There's an undeniable satisfaction in defying his grasp, in proving your prowess even amid exhaustion. Without wasting a moment longer, you hoist yourself up more, using the crane's structure to propel your body upward. Your form melds with the steel as you ascend, a maneuver to gain the vantage point.

Gotta limit his movement to the minimum.

Kashimo's expression shifts, a glint of admiration piercing through his irritation. "Impressive," he concedes, the words carrying an unexpected note of respect, "but you can't run from me."

He follows your lead. The two of you ascending the crane in a synchronized rhythm

"I told you, Kashimo–," you declare, your voice echoing between the steel beams as you reach the crane's zenith, standing face to face on the narrowest edge.

Now standing face to face on the crane's uppermost beam, the narrow back reach providing only small support. Your breath heaves, each inhalation a reminder of the intense exertion. Across from you, Kashimo's gaze remains fixed upon you, his expression deceptively relaxed.

"–that I'm only stretching."

His eyes, however, tell a different story – a depth of focus that cuts through your form. Anchoring onto you with an unwavering intensity.

A mournful melody weaves through the metal lattice, the wind's haunting whistle creating an eerie harmony with the tension in the air. The gusts playfully tousle both your hair in the process. You steady yourself into a stance, your body a testament to both resilience and purpose.

"Plus I want those points," you remark, a hint of determination coloring your words.

It's then that you charge — cursed energy flowing through your body like currents of compressed emptiness. A void. Unyielding. Relentless. And pneumatic.

With a flick of your wrist, you send it slicing through the air. A blade of nothing. A thin line etches across his chest, traversing from ribcage to his already wounded shoulder — a mark of your earlier endeavor. Nowhere to dodge now that he's standing between two metal beams.

Or so you thought.

Kashimo charges. The white of his robe tainted with scarlet. The cut isn't deep.

He must've reinforced his cursed energy.

"Tsk," you utter. A flicker of irritation crosses your features. Agitated. With waning stamina, the dwindling reservoir of cursed energy depleted by your previous usage; this could've been your last-ditch effort.

The final move.

And it failed.

It makes him smile. A sinister twist of lips that morphs into a grin. Moving fast, his expression resembles one of a predator closing in on its prey. The ruby stain on his robe seems to accentuate his aura of danger, a stark contrast to the pristine white it once was.

As your body contorts and arches backward, you skillfully evade the incoming fist aimed at your face. Your unwavering gaze remains locked onto his intense stare. With your palm pressed flat against the ground of the crane, you swiftly raise your leg, delivering a targeted strike to the meat of his thigh.

But before your maneuver can fully unfold, his hand seizes your ankle, pulling you towards him and locking your leg in place as he maneuvers over your body. Kashimo's grin widens, a predatory glint in his eyes that triggers a ripple of unease down your spine.

As his fist whizzes past your face, you seize the opportune moment to mount a counterattack. His fingers, still harshly locked around your right ankle, you push and pull against his grasp. Leg successfully moving to close over his thigh, the other hooking around his hip.

Legs now firmly encircling his waist, you use every ounce of your strength to push. Destabilize the sorcerer. Break his foundation. Disrupt his equilibrium.

The outcome? Both of you soaring through the air and down the crane. Kashimo's form aligns perfectly with the approaching solidity of the dockside concrete.

A rapid free fall, gravity's pull unrelenting.

If you're not getting the points, he's not getting his answers either.

His eyes momentarily flit to the ground below. Unspoken recognition of the shared peril that binds you both. The realization dawns in his eyes, widening them momentarily, before his gaze settles onto your face once more – unimpressed. Jaded.

"Oops," you jest under your breath, fingers finding purchase on the fabric of his torn clothes. An unhinged smile on your lips, eyebrows lifting in a mix of audacity and exhilaration. The wind sweeps through, rustling your hair with a cool caress that contrasts starkly with the warm stickiness of blood on your skin.

"It's accumulated enough."

That's the only forewarning you get. In an instant, the atmosphere shifts; an electrifying tension that dances along your skin. You sense the already familiar tingling as the static charges from the man beneath you. Kashimo's cursed energy now gaining intensity.

His open hand thrusts towards your face, a surge of energy gathering at his fingertips. Only to get countered by your own palm. Flat against each other. Forcing a focal point of energy converges and resistance to form. As the push effect comes into play just in time with waves of electricity.

The crackling intensity escalates, its tendrils reaching out with an insatiable hunger. Only to be pushed back by your own manipulation acting as a steadfast wall. It's a symphony of sensations — the tingling of your skin, the hum of power in the air, the gradual crescendo of pressure between your palms. The vortex throbs and pulses, a living embodiment of the forces you both wield.

The thing is – The conductivity of the vacuum…depending on how you look at it, it behaves in two different ways:

Firstly, when you examine the motion of charged particles with a constant velocity within a vacuum, you encounter an interesting phenomenon. Unlike in other mediums, there is no opposing force acting against these particles. Consequently, maintaining a steady current across any surface within a vacuum demands no additional effort.

However, a contrasting phenomenon manifests when we consider the existence of free charges within conductors. When an electric field, denoted as E, is imposed upon a conductor, it triggers a flow of electric current. This internal charge movement gives rise to a current density described by the equation: J = σE, where σ symbolizes the conductivity of the material. Notably, within a vacuum, σ assumes a value of 0; hence, electric fields lack the capacity to spontaneously induce current flow.

In this context, the vacuum departs from the role of a conductor. Even materials known as insulators, which typically restrict the flow of current, possess conductivity values that are low but not completely absent.

As a result, the resistance exhibited by a vacuum effectively amounts to infinity—particularly when you define resistance through the lens of how charge carriers in a substance respond. Viewed from this perspective, you could liken the vacuum to an insulator, given the absence of charge carriers that are essential for the propagation of electric current.

So in the end, your innate ability functions like an antistatic force.

It should be enough to counter his attack. Neutralizing his endeavor and ricocheting it back to him. Only if his other hand, clenched into a fist, suddenly hasn't entered your line of sight, aiming for your jaw.

The controlled push-only effect falters. Then crumbles. The void's pull reclaims all that Kashimo had imparted, drawing it back with an insatiable greed.

"Damn you." It now comes down to the last aspect of your technique.

Implosion.

The energies within your vacuum field converge, collapsing inwards with a blinding intensity. A jarring impact against the back of your head – or it might be the ending of your fall. Everything's just confusing. Everything blurs into a disorienting haze of continuous events.

The unforgiving touch of concrete grates against your scraped back. Each breath, now shallow and ragged, causes pain.

Above, the sky stretches wide and boundless. Until the sight is blocked by a mop of cerulean blue hair. Two buns somehow still in place. Same-colored eyes staring at your form. Arms folded and a countenance marred by bloodstains and scrapes. Each leg positioned on either side of your hips before one presses against the flat of your clavicles.

"You're quite durable," Kashimo retorts, pushing his weight down on you, "that should've killed you right there."

"Heh," you manage a wry chuckle, your voice strained but defiant, "guess I'm full of surprises."

He raises an eyebrow, a flicker of almost-amusement dancing in his eyes. The world around you seems to blur at the edges, the strain of the plummet combined with the failed attempt of your innate technique taking a heavy toll on your senses.

"It's been a while since I've encountered someone who can keep me on my toes this long. Now tell me," your name rolls off his tongue in a taunting lilt, "where's Sukuna?"

The distant sounds of the dockside begin to fade, replaced by an eerie emptiness. Despite your unwavering determination, a tide of dizziness threatens to engulf you, and you struggle to maintain your focus on Kashimo's face.

"On vaca–"

The weight on your chest vanishes abruptly. Kashimo's foot makes fleeting contact with your cheek before returning to its original place.

"Don't play with me. Spit it out."

"Oi," a voice calls to your right. A voice you know; Hakari's, "It's not very chivalrous to strike a lady like that."

From here, everything dissolves into darkness.

The world sways, a disorienting dance of shadows and sensations. Light pressure settles on your stomach with sounds echoing faintly in the distance. A gentle, steady rhythm envelops you as if you're being cradled in a cocoon of safety. Your limbs feel weightless, as though the ground beneath you has transformed into a soft cloud that carries your burdens away.

Your mind struggles to tether itself to the present, grappling with the fragments of consciousness that slip through your grasp. Colors blur, merging into a hazy kaleidoscope of fleeting images. The arms that encircle you exude warmth thought. One that lulls you back to sleep.

Yet you manage to summon the strength to part your heavy eyelids. Through the haze, you see a blur of black and white on top of you. Head resting upon something firm and solid – a breastplate, you realize. The rhythmic cadence that envelops you is accompanied by the subtle rise and fall of breath, a heartbeat that resonates beneath your cheek.

"Panda," you murmur, voice a tentative whisper as you attempt to comprehend whether or not you're dreaming, considering the creature on you is now a size of an actual teddy bear.

The toy-sized Panda remains seated on you but looks your way, emitting a surprised yelp at the sound of your voice, before swiftly turning his gaze forward again, "Hakari, she's awake!"

Your vision – still blurred – manages to trace a figure walking at the edge of your peripheral sight – left arm missing, shirt gone (he's shirtless, you discern), and crowned with purple hair. Hakari. But if Hakari's walking in front of you. Then…

Lifting your eyes, you suddenly lock onto a fleeting sight of vibrant cyan hair. The once-pristine white attire now soaked and marred with splotches of vivid red, creating an unsettling contrast. Your heart skips a beat as the realization dawns upon you.

It's Kashimo who bears the weight of your limp form.

"She's gonna pass out soon again," his voice carries vibrations that travel from his chest to your cheek with his gaze fixed upon you.

And he's right as your body, weary and battered, succumbs once more to the embrace of slumber.

#moni writes #hajime kashimo #hajime kashimo x reader #kashimo x reader #hajime x reader #jujutsu kaisen #hajime kashimo x y/n #hajime x y/n #kashimo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk imagines #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

[chimielie]

cw: a lot of discussion of suggestive / nsfw topics, no actual nsfw, nonsense

related to this but can be read standalone

Hajime thinks he’s getting the hang of this.

Yeah, you’re annoying, much touchier than usual, wearing clothing entirely unsuitable for early November, trying to get him to snap, but it’s been manageable. Only a couple of times he’s had to rip himself away from you before things went any further than he trusted himself to go.

He’s rediscovered the simple pleasure of making out like teenagers, keeping all your clothes on and varying your paces. Just spending hours breathing each other in and kissing slow.

He might even—might—add that there seems to be a kind of emotional benefit to this weird mandated sex break. It lets the both of you talk about your desires with literally no expectation and a lighthearted, joking air that eases Hajime’s intense inclinations exponentially. It’s not something that either of you would ever want to do any longer than you have to or even next year (you’ve been very clear that you see it as some sort of strange extended foreplay, on your end), but its been… better than he’d thought, in some ways.

In some ways it was still hell.

Still, as the days pass and he doesn’t die of blue balls, he starts to figure that this whole challenge might be really doable.

Hajime lies in bed with you, eyes half-shut as the both of you wind down for the evening with your new routine.

Your lips are soft against his, his left hand cupping the back of your neck, the other rubbing slow, light circles into your back. It’s gentle, sweet kissing, not the frantic and heated interaction of more carnal relations. It makes Hajime feel—

His fingertips are buzzing where they touch you, strings playing in his head, his head fuzzy with your scent. Content, like he could stay here forever.

You push yourself up on your elbows suddenly, smoothly, and settle your weight more heavily on his stomach, your knees squeezing his sides. Your pupils are dilated but your gaze is tender, and he can almost feel rose-colored glasses sliding over his face as he stares up at you.

“I’m in love with you,” you say, voice low and throaty from long minutes spent exploring his mouth slowly, excruciatingly so, like you hadn’t since the first months you’d been dating.

Hajime moans.

Loudly and unmistakably and completely involuntarily.

He sits up immediately, pitching you off of him as you collapse in a heap of giggles. His face is burning, he can feel it, but your laughter is surrounding him like a too-deep featherbed.

“I think,” you can hardly breathe, let alone speak through your mirth. He’d throttle you but that would only make things worse right now. “I think you just failed No Nut November.”

#haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq!! x reader #iwaizumi my beloved my husband loml etc etc #shorts! #you guys will never guess what just happened to me 🕺 #iwaizumi x reader fluff #iwaizumi hajime x reader fluff #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi x reader #hajime x reader #haikyuu x reader fluff #haikyuu!! fluff #hq!! fluff

[msbyzsz]

haikyuu as dads is so cute i can not.

sakusa as a dad would be so good. i could see him after a game going up to you and your kids, but being so sweaty. so when he gives your kids a hug they start squirming and saying “eww dad stop! your all gross and sweaty!” and he would just laugh at them. i know that he would be so supportive and if you have a girl, she’s 100% a daddy’s girl.

i can see suna and his kids making so much trouble. they would make the house so messy because they were making a fort and having a pillow fight. they would see you come home and then suna would be like “go kids! go hide!” and they would run off giggling but trying to be quiet. i can see him then going up to you saying “hey baby, welcome home.” and giving you a hug and a kiss so you forgive them.

iwaizumi would be such a good dad. he would always be there for his kids making sure that they have everything. he would also be so soft. i can see him bring his baby to work and him just swaddling it just rocking back and fourth, trying to get the baby to sleep. everyone would be fawning over the baby. and he’s just so proud, but he would whisper yell at them saying “don’t be so loud my babygirl’s tryin’ to sleep.” while rocking her back and fourth giving her a kiss on the head. “thank you for giving her to me my love.”

#haikyuu x reader #sakusa x reader #suna x reader #iwaizumi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #suna rintaro x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #kiyoomi x reader #rintaro x reader #hajime x reader #sakusa fluff #suna fluff #iwaizumi fluff

[pin-k-ink]

Hey girl hey!!

Let me tell you a little about a dream I have constantly… it’s about Iwaizumi Hajime fingering you LIKE HOW ARE HIS ARMS SO BEEFY🤤🤤 it crosses my mind at least twice a day😍

Have a good day babes!!

a/n: this was way longer than what i intended to write 💀

just imagine, iwa keeping you in a headlock while he finger-fucks you in front of the mirror. youre clawing on his biceps, back arching against him, pressing your plump ass against his throbbing cock that’s been weeping pre-cum since you guys started. hes whispering the lewdest shit in your ear, watching your thighs quiver as you cum, squirting your juices all over the once-pristine mirror. and he doesn’t stop there, his thick fingers slowly drag themselves out of your sopping hole, the calloused pad of his thumb rubbing tight circles on your overly sensitive clit. he gathers your juices before his other hand tightens around your neck. he watched as your kiss-swollen lips part and he takes the chance to plunge his wet fingers inside your mouth. “clean them up for me, princess.” he humps your ass, relishing the way you whine, tongue lazily slurping away at your essence. “you’ll cum for again, won’t you?” you protest, mumbling incoherently against his fingers. his other hand had long abandoned your neck to paw at your breasts, squeezing the flesh and tugging at your tender nipples. “look at you, my pretty girl.” he took his fingers out of your mouth, trailing them down your sternum, your stomach, to finally rest right on top of your pelvis. “watch yourself in the mirror. don’t take your eyes off of it, got it?” he parted your puffy lips with his fingers, his middle finger immediately sticking out to press your clit. you whined and threw your head back, which earned you a light slap on your pussy. you jumped, unintentionally pressing his cock harder against your ass. iwaizumi hissed, bucking his hips up until he was rutting against you. “haji, no more..” you slurred, watching his fingers inch closer towards your hole. he bent down to place a tender kiss on your shoulder, trailing them up to the side of your neck. “just one more, my love. then we’ll be done, ok?” he gripped your jaw in his large hand, forcing you to face him. his lips crashed onto yours right as his fingers plunged themselves into your cunt, your screams muffled against his awaiting mouth. he wasted no time before he began to piston his digits in and out of your hole, drinking up all your moans as your hands came up to entangle themselves in his hair. iwaizumi continued to hump your ass, squeezing your body impossibly closer to his. his lips detached from yours, eyes immediately darting to your ethereal form in the mirror. “look at yourself. watch yourself while you cum around my fingers.” your thighs locked themselves around his hand, your smaller ones holding onto his biceps as you felt your oncoming orgasm. you could feel hajime’s thrusts behind you slowly become irregular, alerting you that he was just about to cum as well. “hajiii!” you screamed, your lower body lifting itself up as you squirted around his fingers once more. iwaizumi’s cock bobbed helplessly, spurting out cum, rope after rope as he stained the edge of the bed and the carpet.

#pink.thirsts❥･• #haikyu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader smut #iwaizumi smut #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x reader smut #iwaizumi hajime #hajime x reader #hajime x reader smut

[thenanbakacorner]

Hi, can I request the reaction of the four supervisors after waking up from a dream lived where they had a family and their dream life with the (female) reader? I melt when imagining the baffled and shy reaction that one of them could take

Daww, yisss, this is an adorable idea!!

* * *

🦍 Hajime 🦍

The second he wakes up and registers what he just dreamt about, he's blinking in shock and slowly getting a bit red in the face

He slowly sits up after a few minutes of silence pass and he pinches his nosebridge, eyes closing as he huffs and murmurs under his breath in embarrassment

"Fuckin' hell.."

Key moments from his dream replay back in his head, like you and him getting married, settling down in a small house, and your firstborn coming into the world

He's never had a dream quite like that, let alone one so vivid

It takes him close to a half hour before he's able to stop thinking about it (Mostly, at least), get out of bed and get ready for work, just barely not being late to clock in

🐒 Samon🐒

The dream of you and him living together, happily married with two small children felt so real

When he wakes up, he is first confused at the sudden change of atmosphere, then when he registers that it was just a dream, he's quickly getting bright red

He can't believe he just had a dream like that!

His hands find their way to his face and he lets out a drawn out groan, rubbing his fingers against his temples

"Geez.."

He whispers, trying desperately to cool the heat in his cheeks enough to get himself out of bed and ready for work

🐕 Kenshirou 🐕

Out of the rest of the supervisors, Kenshirou is the most red-faced when he wakes up from the dream of you two living your best lives together

"Oh my god."

Is the first thing he mutters when reality sets in, sitting up and gripping the blankets on his lap in a death grip as he stares off into space, wide eyed

He can't help but think about the key points of the dream, like your wedding, your first child, and your second a few years after

Hands fly to his face, embarrassed steam practically billowing off of him

He ends up thinking about it for so long that he's late for work, and has to blame his late arrival on traffic

🦚 Kiji 🦚

When he wakes up, he takes a second to blink and just register what he had just dreamt of

A glamorous, over-the-top wedding, a fancy three story house, and three children coming over the years afterward..

He soon gets the biggest, stupidest grin of his life along with faintly red cheeks and puts a hand to his face, chuckling to himself

"Goodness me.."

While he felt a smidge of embarrassment, he couldn't lie that the dream was rather wonderful.

Now he wonders when and how exactly he could make this dream a reality.. the sooner the better, at that!

#nanbaka #canarical nanbaka #nanbaka headcanons #nanbaka imagines #nanbaka x reader #kiji nanbaka #nanbaka kiji #mitsuba kiji #kiji mitsuba #kiji #hajime nanbaka #nanbaka hajime #hajime sugoroku #hajime x reader #hajime #nanbaka hajime sugoroku #hajime sugoroku x reader #sugoroku hajime #kiji mitsuba x reader #mitsuba kiji x reader #samon gokuu nanbaka #samon nanbaka #nanbaka samon #samon gokuu #samon #nanbaka kenshirou x reader #kenshirou yozakura x reader #kenshirou nanbaka #nanbaka kenshirou #kenshirou yozakura

[kirbyskisses]

monster iwa…. is rewiring my brain chemistry

oh sem. my queen, you have awakened my little godzilla/mothra = iwaizumi/reader heart. i will now enter a feral unhinged state - i take no responsibility for what is about to happen.

tw: hybrids, monsterfucking, breeding mention, size kink, “just the tip”. minors/ageless blogs dni

godzilla type hybrid!iwa, a monster man with these huge muscular, gray-scaled arms and claws, sharp teeth, a long, heavy tail and back spines. still with that handsome face, a head of dark-brown hair and cold green-grey eyes that bore down on you. he’s so big

has a downright possessive love for his queen - a good-hearted little thing - mostly human but with fuzzy hair, bright eyes and precious moth wings.

he groans and curses and roars - a grumpy protector - but alway simmers down into a loud, comforting purr when he wraps his tail and huge body around you.

he doesn’t quite get what your chirps and cries are about while his slippery, long, blue tongue penetrates you but he doesn’t mind too much.

“have to prep you, little lady. st’p trying to close yer legs! i’m not gonna hurt my lovely queen. just gonna eat you up…”

and he does. :(

eats your fat little pussy like a man starved - huge claws breaking into the nest he’s made below you so they don’t tear into your thick thighs instead.

monster!iwa has no technique, he doesn’t need any. :(

has a tongue so long it slobbers on your clit while reaching deep, deep inside your walls.

a constant squelchsquelchsquelch and unceasing suckling noises echo around as he only takes breaks to say “sweetest fuckin’ pussy,” “that’s m’ goddess - stretch nice and wide…” before spitting on the overstimulated bundle of nerves and starting again.

you must’ve cum four times by the time he stops, wings, antennae and body twitching and twittering barely able to make a coherent noise - pussy lips still convulsing after minutes on end.

monster!iwa is so big you can feel him deep, deep in your tummy when he thrusts his cock in.

promises to start with the tip but your gummy walls are so addictive, so sweet and drippy around his bulbous tip that he can’t resist and lets out a choked roar as he bottoms out inside you.

*sniffle* trying to grip the hardened scales on his shoulders. :((

trying to kick or fly or do something, anything to get the pressure out because it’s so fat inside you but you’re immobilized - by his weight on top of you, his tail wrapping behind you - pulling you into him

his monstrous, long tongue delving inside your mouth forcing you to suck on the slippery muscle as your pussy sucks in his cock ☹️

the obscene sounds your little cunt makes reverberate around the room, mingling with high-pitched whines and breathless moans

“that’s my pretty little moth. my cute little queen.” he smirks, practically able to see the thoughts leave your brain; there’s nothing but him, him, him

and fuck, you’re so small. so delicate. chubby and soft with the most beautiful wing and eyes. gone is your usual bubbly smile - just your perfect lips letting out tiny gasps.

he growls like an animal when you mutter, barely coherent.

“look ‘t me. look ‘t your king - open your eyes and say it louder.”

and so you do, because he’s the king of the monsters and he’s filling you too well for you to disobey.

“wan’ your eggs hajime, pleaseeee - wan’ your babies!”

and he bares his sharp teeth with a vicious smirk at the thought of you heavy with his hybrid heir, breasts milky and full - your plump little form unable to do anything ‘cept waddle ‘nd cry for your big kaiju husband to help you. ☹️

of your plump little form unable to do anything ‘cept waddle ‘nd cry for your big kaiju husband to help you. ☹️

oh, he’s addicted.

#queen sem😩😩😩 #I am the world’s biggest godzilla fan he was made for me. #also check out my post about kaiju no 8 for more monster!iwa #monster!iwa #tw monsterfucking #tw hybrids #hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime x reader #smut #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #iwaizumi hajime (27) athletic trainer #mothzilla #kirby’s asks🌸 #x plus size reader #x chubby reader #x black!reader

[peltingaway]

he's never been one to hold back. <3

contains: hair pulling, rough sex, and a little anger

he absolutely HATES when you hold back your moans, this man will dig his nails into your hips, making sure he doesn't go too hard on you since he's not in the worst mood, and start slamming into you. He gets pissed when your voice isn't as loud as the slapping from your bodies touching that's echoing throughout the room, he'll use your body as a leverage until you start moaning into the pillow.

he doesn't care that he's starting to let out loud moans, he doesn't care about how flushed his face is either. he's not gonna let himself go until you do that's for sure. he'll even grip your hair so he can hear your pretty sounds more clearly.

he tends to get a teeny bit rough on accident, but it's all out of love. <3

a/n: I did NOT expect my first one to do so well!! thank you all smmm <3 you guys should totally give me some ideas. I'm down.

#atsumu smut #atsumu x reader #osamu smut #osamu x reader #issei smut #issei x reader #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa smut #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi smut #haikyuu smut #hq smut #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki smut #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #hajime smut #hajime x reader

[tsukasalvr]

My I request headcanons for Fuyuhiko, Gundham, and another character of your choice protecting/saving a gender neutral reader? I'm kinda a sucker for those kinda things 👉👈

AN: I’m so in love rn and dw me too anon!!!! I’m gonna choose Hajime cus I don’t think I’ve write for him yet but I literally haven’t written for a lot of the danganronpa characters yet sooo

protecting/saving reader

Anime/Fandom: Danganronpa

Characters: Fuyuhiko’s Kuzuryo, Gundham Tanaka, Hajime Hinata

Warnings: I don’t proofread

A/n: my stomach can’t stop making noise help

Danganronpa masterlist | Main masterlist

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu

He knew you and Mahiru were out together taking a stroll around the island and were planning to go for a swim

He should’ve been more aware about Peko and how she would react, he knew Peko would never hurt you, and he was lucky enough to make it in time to the small house

Mahiru was waiting outside for you as you went in to grab a water bottle from the small fridge, Peko thought it would be Mahiru who went in first but was able to stop just in time when Fuyuhiko’s ran all the way to the house and pull you towards him so Peko would miss

Peko apologized and made it clear that she wasn’t going to kill you and had Fuyuhiko’s help clear it up as well

Seeing how it could’ve been you instead of Mahiru who died, and by accident form Peko of all people, made him even be more worried about your wellbeing and had you close to him at all times even if it was just you going to the bathroom

Gundham Tanaka

He never had you stray too far away from him ever, he would always say that he would protect you from all evil with the help of his dark devas

You were never seen apart from each other even from when you both woke up on the island, especially since you two were dating for a while and even before the island

It was just a coincidence he saved you, Hiyoko sucked up and went to ask you for help on tying her kimono and you told her that you remembered there was a large mirror over at the live house and you told her you would gladly carry it over to her cabin so she can keep it

The only reason you didn’t was because Gundham had reminded you about a small dinner you were supposed to have later that day with him, Sonia and Hajime

So Hiyoko had to go alone and when it turns out that her going there alone, like you were going to, was how she ended up getting killed, Gundham was shocked

He didn’t even want to think about what would’ve happened if you had went instead. He has since then pledged to go everywhere with you so you wouldn’t be alone and to calm his nerves

Hajime Hinata

Hes been on edge since he woke up on the island and even more worried when he saw you were unfortunately here as well on this hell island

Everything was going smoothly, there had been no murders so far and the little party they were having had been going well as everyone was having a great time talking and eating

You on the other hand, had been worried especially since you thought it was such a coincidence that only one pick had gone missing but Byakuya’s and Hajime brushed it off and Hajime comforted you with saying that nobody will kill someone in broad daylight and it probably just went missing

You weren’t believing it and when the lights went out, you noticed a small liquid neon dots that were leading under a table and crouched down to lift up the cover when Hajime who was next to you before the lights went out, accidentally tripped and you had both fallen on top of each other

And it was thanks to him tripping over you that you hadn’t died and crawled under the table

He’s since then taken this island more serious especially since you’re hear with him

Knowing that could’ve been you bleeding out under the table, haunts him

#danganronpa x y/n #danganronpa x you #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa headcanons #fuyuhiko kuzuruyuu imagines #fuyuhiko x reader #gundham headcanons #gundham tanaka x reader #gundham x reader #tanaka x reader #hajime hinata #hajime x reader #hajime hinata imagines #hajime hinata x reader

[delirious-donna]

tw: female reader, suggestive, Hajime Iwaizumi (yes he needs a trigger warning cause have you seen that man?!), body worship (I guess?)

Sweat glistened on his broad back. The vest he had been wearing long since discarded into a crumpled ball in the corner. You watched from the doorway, leaning against the frame for support whilst Iwa pulled himself into his fourth set of hanging pull ups.

You knew he was fit—he had to be—it was his job, but it still took you by surprise from time to time. Not the dedication he showed, more so the sheer power he exuded and so effortlessly. You were a lucky lucky woman.

His summer tan was at its peak, and you admired the beads of sweat that rolled down the length of his spine to catch on the waistband of his shorts. The prominent muscles bunched and shifted in their exertion, grunts pulled from the depths of his chest, and you moaned aloud. That was your downfall.

Hajime paused; his arms fully extended before dropping to the mat below with a soft thud. He knew you were there, could feel the desire of your eyes on his form and it made him smile. Without turning, he grabbed up the towel by his feet and wiped off his face. He flexed. Was he showing off? Maybe…

Your lip was caught between your teeth, fingers stroking the door in lieu of what you really wanted to touch. Anybody would know the exact direction of your thoughts if they were to look at you, but it hardly mattered when you were in the safety of your own home. Why not take what you longed for?

It was that thought that forced your feet into motion, carrying you forward across the hardwood floor and into the path of temptation. Iwa wasn’t even looking in your direction, yet the sway of your hips spoke of a dance that only lover would indulge in, a slow roll that accentuated your body. A mating call and it was answered when he turned to fix you in place with his heavy gaze.

The adrenaline of a workout always aroused the beast that slumbered inside him. A primal desire to take what was rightly his—and that was you. Long gone were the days that he could turn you into a flustered mess with one arch of his sleek black eyebrow, but you were still a bashful girl under the right circumstances.

He loved that about you. Loved that you openly displayed your desire for him, yet you were also capable of the most intimate, heartfelt words that captivated his heart and mind as well as his body. You were perfection to Hajime, and he never let you go a day without knowing that.

You were locked in a battle of stares.

His hooded eyes slowly took you in, pausing at the stomach he loved to lay his head against and again at the meat of your thighs. He chuckled, and your eyes narrowed. Iwa wondered if the bite marks had finally faded from when he had gotten carried away the other morning. If that was the case, it would need to be remedied.

The sharp rise and fall of his muscled chest was hypnotic. A spell you would willingly fall under and to hell with the consequences. Paired with the suck of his abdomen as he sought to regulate his breathing, you were a goner and still more than ten paces away from him.

Mutual desire and attraction stormed in the small space of the home gym, thick and cloying enough that your throat ran dry. The smell of sweat mingled with the sweet allure of arousal, a unique scent you would roll around in if given the chance. You wanted to throw yourself at him, ride him to the mats below and give him a workout of your own design. One that would see you both panting and dripping from the energy expended.

Clearly, he was not oblivious to your thoughts. Iwa cocked his head, throwing the towel in his hands over his shoulder and reaching out a calloused hand covered in white chalk for you to take. The first rumbling of his voice resonated between your thighs, arousal pooling so fast you worried that simply touching him would have you losing the battle against your sanity.

“I take it you like what you see?”

#delirious recs #hajime iwaizumi #iwaizumi x reader #hajime x reader #hq x reader #iwaizumi smut #hq smut

[hanemiyaz]

TOKYO REVENGERS MEN WITH MOMMY KINKS

18+ only, minors/ageless blogs dni

characters: takemichi hanagaki, chifuyu matsuno, hajime kokonoi, seishu inui, tetta kisaki

synopsis: as per the last one, sub tokrev men with mommy kinks!

cw's: fem!reader, dom!reader, sub!characters, mommy kink, pussyjob, overstim, crying/dacryphilia, begging, teasing, bondage (m receiving), piv, breeding, lingerie (m wearing), amazon position, lots of pet names, pet play/puppy play, collar and leash (m wearing), handjob, pegging, cockwarming (as punishment!), punishment for bratting, maybe slight cnc in kisaki's, vibrator usage.

an: this is part two of tokrev men w/ mommy kinks that i posted on my old blog (iykyk). i hope you enjoy these little drabbles!

TAKEMICHI

Michi lets out a loud whine, his palms sweaty against your thighs as you slowly grind your pussy against his cock. He averts his gaze, not because he’s shy— he passed that point two orgasms ago— but because he simply cannot handle the electric jolts of pleasure rushing through him.

“Mommy… please.”

“Please what, baby?”

He stutters, realizing he doesn’t even know what he’s begging for as tears continuously roll down the sides of his face. 

You take your hand and gently wipe away his tears with your thumb, your quiet shushing not doing much to combat the sticky noises coming from where your two bodies meet. His cum is thick and white, and there’s almost too much of it, your fluttering cunt milking him dry with ease.

He does his best to beg again, “Mommy… need you.”

“You need me? But, Michi, I’m right here,” you smirk, running your hands along his chest and stomach. 

"Need to feel you... wanna be inside."

You shake you head as a smirk grows across your face "Not yet, baby... Mommy's having too much fun like this."

He whines again, both of you knowing that tonight will be a rather brainless night for your sweet boyfriend.

CHIFUYU

You’re on your knees over Chifuyu, his chest rising and falling quickly as he does his best to hold onto his sanity, while you only grant the tip of his cock the pleasure of being buried inside of you. He strains against the pretty pink rope you have him bound with, his ankles and wrists struggling to break the bondage to no avail. You know it's an act, that he’s actually enjoying being tied up like this, but that only serves to turn you on further.

“Ah, ah, ah… good boys use their words. Tell me what it is you want.”

“W-Wanna breed you, mommy…”

His cheeks are red, coloured so because of his arousal and his embarrassment, not used to being told to speak his deepest desires without the ability to cover his face too.

“Good boys also use their manners.”

“Please, mommy, please. I’m sorry, jus’ wanna breed you so bad”, his lips form a deep frown, fearing as if he’s ruined his chance.

You lean down to kiss his worries away as you lower yourself fully onto his cock, feeling him twitch inside you.

“There’s mommy’s good boy.”

HAJIME

If you’d ever seen a more beautiful man, you couldn’t remember him in the slightest with the sight beheld to you now, in this moment. You have your fiancé folded in half on your bed, the man donning a pair of black thigh high socks decorated with big red bows on the cuffs. Just as pretty though, are the lascivious sounds he’s making as you fuck yourself on his cock, straddling the undersides of his thighs.

“Fuck mommy… you look so pretty.”

You giggle as your skin smacks against his “Thank you, handsome boy, you look very pretty too.”

“I do?”

“You do, sweet prince.”

He moans obscenely loud, his long hair sticking to his sweat covered forehead. He’s always loved that pet name.

“You like when mommy rides you like this? When she reminds you who this cock belongs to?”

His eyes squeeze shut and he nods frantically.

“Who owns this cock, hm?”

“You do, mommy…”

You pick up the pace with your movements, your legs a little sore but you don’t care. Right now, all you want is to feel Hajime pulse and cum inside of you as you do, your spasming walls drawing out every last drop.

SEISHU

You yank a little harder at the leash wrapped around your hand, pulling what was hanging loosely, taut. 

“Slow down, pup.”

“B-But mommy, s’too good…” Despite his arguing, he slows his bouncing on your strap on. 

“I know you’re eager, baby, but good puppies listen to mommy. You wanna be a good puppy, don’t you?” Your voice is low, dripping with lust.

He nods, eyebrows knit together and a pout on his face.

You smile at him before loosening your tug on the leash and leaning in to give him a kiss, one he eagerly accepts.

“You know what else good puppies get?”

“What?”

“Good puppies get treats,” you move one of your hands to the tip of his cock, focusing all of your attention on it, rubbing it gently.

His legs start to tremble as he continues to ride your dildo, throwing his head back with a whimper which makes the tag on his collar jingle louder.

“Thank you mommy, th-thank you.”

“Are you gonna cum?” He nods again, “Mhm… gonna cum for mommy.” “Go ahead, puppy, make a mess. Just for me.”

TETTA

You look him in the eye as you come down from your orgasm, bare chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. You turn off the vibrating wand you had pressed to your clit, moving it from between the two of you.

“I’m s-sorry, mommy. Was only a joke.” His eyes well up as he sits there almost motionless, his limbs tied to the chair and you sitting in his lap—his cock buried inside of you— keeping him from doing much more than protesting verbally.

“So being a brat is funny to you? Making mommy angry is a joke?”

He shakes his head, “N-No, I’m sorry. Just really want you to fuck me now.”

“No, I think naughty boys like you need to learn lessons the hard way. So, for now, all you get to feel is me, sitting nice and still, cumming around your cock… nothing more.”

He whines and his bottom lip starts to wobble, his body betraying his typical collected demeanor, “I’m sorry mommy, I really am.”

You move your free hand upward and cup his face, caressing his cheek with your thumb, “I know…”

You turn the vibrator back on and return it to your clit, feeling yourself tighten around Tetta’s cock, causing him to let out a pathetic whimper, “but I think the lesson needs to really sink in.”

#sub tokyo revengers #teddy.writes #mine #tokyo revengers x reader #sub!character #domme!reader #takemichi x reader #takemichi hanagaki x reader #sub takemichi #chifuyu x reader #chifuyu matsuno x reader #sub chifuyu #hajime x reader #hajime kokonoi x reader #sub kokonoi #seishu x reader #seishu inui x reader #sub inui #tetta x reader #tetta kisaki x reader #sub kisaki