#iwaizumi hajime angst

[noosayog]

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

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

wc: 1k

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

And the third. 

And the fourth. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Finally ready to talk to me, Princess?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just for tonight.

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

[malteeze]

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

genre: angst/ comfort at the end

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[omiomi-kyun]

00:07 — unrequited

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“hajime?”

he took a breath before bowing his head deeply.

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

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

“your highness...”

“you're dismissed.”

“your—”

“be well, young lord.”

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

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

or so they thought.

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

[nejibaby]

i don’t even mind

Pairing: Iwaizumi Hajime x Reader

Word count: 0.5k

“When it comes to feelings for you, Iwaizumi Hajime is an immovable force.”

You’re well aware of the metaphorical dance you and Iwaizumi Hajime have going on. One step forward, two steps back. Repeat.

It’s a seemingly never ending performance of two could-be lovers that would have been easy to end if it weren’t for you.

Because unlike you, Iwaizumi Hajime is certain about his feelings for you. He’s straightforward, vocal, genuine and consistent. If he says he likes you, he leaves no space for you to doubt him.

And to you, it’s scary. It’s scary because of how easy it is to fall for him.

He’s nice. He gets along with everyone he meets. He’s favored even by your friends.

He’s driven. He makes sure that he sees through whatever he puts his mind into to the end.

And most importantly, he’s undemanding. He doesn’t try to control you or impose anything on you. He lets you be your own person, making your own decisions — including loving him.

He’s attractive in more ways than one.

Scratch that.

He’s ideal in more ways than one.

And even without meaning to, this fact alone weeds out all the jerks who start to take a liking to you. Because Hajime is hard to compete with. When it comes to feelings for you, he’s an immovable force.

And because he’s so ideal, it scares you because you’re just you.

Average.

Ordinary.

Regular.

Mediocre.

There are good days when you think you could probably deserve Hajime. And so you take a step towards him, lessening the imaginary gap that separates the two of you.

However, there are bad days that you feel too dull, too pale in contrast to his bright and scintillating personality. And the only logical thing that you could think of is to run away from him.

You suppose he’s bound to get tired someday — of the constant push and pull, of the endless cycle of reassurances. But he doesn’t.

“There’s no need to rush,” Hajime comforts you as you cry into his arms. “You don’t have to give me an answer right away.”

“But you’ve been waiting for me for so long,” you sob.

“I don’t even mind.”

“I don’t like that it seems like I’m leading you on,” you stare directly into his eyes, tears streaming down your face.

“Are you?” He asks meekly and looks away.

“What?”

“Are you leading me on?”

“I don’t think so. I know I have feelings for you, but…”

“Then that’s a good enough answer for me,” he smiles.

He watches as your lips quiver, and your eyes continue to be lined by another wave of unshed tears, and he thinks it just might be impossible for his heart to flutter but also break at the same time.

Underneath the moonlight, he still thinks you’re more perfect than anyone else, even with your tear-streaked face.

But it also hurts him that you’re hurting. It pains him to know you’re in an internal battle with yourself.

And so he says what he always says, “I don’t even mind, baby. I’ll wait for you until you’re ready.”

You wrap your arms around him and let yourself melt into him.

He strokes your back gently, and he whispers, “We don’t have to rush. I just want to cherish you. Tell me…. do you mind?”

When he feels the lone, tender kiss on his neck, he knows your answer.

if this seems familiar, it’s originally posted in my main so yeah anyway, feedback and reblogs are appreciated!

#iwaizumi hajime x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x you #haikyuu x you #haikyu x you #iwaizumi hajime angst #haikyuu angst #haikyu angst #iwaizumi hajime comfort #haikyuu comfort #haikyu comfort #haikyuu #hq #iwaizumi #hq iwaizumi #iwaizumi oneshot #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x you #hq x you #hajime iwaizumi

[admiringlove]

[18:51]

.

.

.

"you look like shit."

iwaizumi hajime scoffs at you from the park bench. although the atmosphere is a little bitter, you still break out the smallest smile. you can't help it. you slowly walk over to the seat, your hands shoved in your pockets as you sit down next to him. your eyes wander to his face, that only peers ahead.

"fuck," he mumbles, blinking back, "we're really eighteen, huh?"

"yeah, it sucks," you add, "i don't know what the heck i'm supposed to do with my life. hell, i don't even know how taxes work. or how to make my bed."

he laughs. and you're sure it's the most melodious thing you have ever heard. it keeps going for about thirty seconds, and you're glad it does. he sounds beautiful. his eyes are closed as he laughs, and you're glad he doesn't see you gawking at him. gosh, anyone would be able to tell how in love you are. except hajime, of course.

he stops laughing now, "the fact that you don't know how to make your bed is concerning."

"hey, come on. sheets are an absolute menace. i stick one side of them in, the other side comes out. it's so weird. who even came up with the concept of bedsheets?" you ask, giggling, "that dude was definitely high."

iwaizumi only laughs more, and it sort of lifts a weight from your heart. you knew why he was here in the first place. you and oikawa are probably the only people that know. ever since aoba johsai lost against karasuno high, iwaizumi hajime has been coming to this park. and he sits on this very bench every day for around half an hour before heading home. the sun is setting, and it's darker than it is light.

"you know, we used to play aliens here," you say enthusiastically as you point your finger, "over there by the swings and that red slide that used to be green. oikawa made himself the alien all the time. you were the police officer. and i was the person that gets abducted."

"it was always aliens," he shook his head, "that idiot never let us play anything else."

"i always had fun being rescued," you shrug, "i don't know 'bout you, it was fun watching you beat him up with a stick."

"and then i had to buy him icecream because he'd cry and tell me he was gonna complain to his pretty older sister," iwaizumi smiles at the memory, "god, i miss being a kid."

"me too," you mumble, "me too."

there's a comfortable silence surrounding you two. your eyes meet and then break contact a few times. there's stars in the sky now, and then, the atmosphere changes.

"i feel like i let everyone down," he whispers. there's space between the two of you, and you're starting to hate it, "i let oikawa down. i let you down. i'm a shit volleyball player, and i'm a shit ace."

"oi," you narrow your eyes, "don't say that. you didn't let us down. and you aren’t a shit ace."

"but i am though," he argues, "i would've won the game that day if i didn't wanna let you down."

you sigh, scooching closer to him before you smack the side of his head lightly. he feigns pain, furrowing his eyebrows as he looks at you, "do you really want me to tell you what you say to oikawa all the time?"

he groans. you smile, "six who are strong are stronger together. i want you to remember that, okay? it wasn't your fault. everybody made mistakes. even kageyama made mistakes."

"but they won, anyway," he tsks, "i couldn't even get us to nationals."

this time, instead of smacking him, you pull him closer towards you. he looks at you, eyes red and glassy. his lips part, whispering, "what do i do?"

"rest," you whisper back, "you're supposed to rest after working hard for a very long time. so, rest."

he gulps the comforting air, leaning his head against your shoulder, "thank you."

"you don't thank friends, you moron," you sneer, "if you say sorry now, i will poke your eye. or even worse, that place where you're ticklish."

"i was totally not going to apologize for thanking you," he laughs, "but seriously, thank you."

"like i said, don't mention it."

maybe you would tell iwaizumi hajime that you were in love with him later. but that day was not going to be today. today, you were content just being his friend. today, you were going to get satisfaction from being there for him when he needs a shoulder to lean on the most. when he's not strong, but a crying mess who feels like he let every single one of his friends and teammates down.

today, you would be his best friend. and you would make him laugh as he cries.

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

#iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime angst #iwaizumi hajime x you #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi headcanons #iwaizumi fanfic #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi oneshot #iwaizumi comfort #iwaizumi x gender neutral reader #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi hcs #iwaizumi scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader

[lyssasdrafts]

— FOOTNOTE

relationship: iwaizumi hajime x gn! reader

includes: friends to lovers, unrequited love, angst (?), a little bit ooc for iwaizumi

like you always do, you wait for him at the bus stop, ignoring the sound of water hitting the shelter you’re sitting under. looking away from your phone, you check to make sure that it’s definitely raining.

hey i’m so sorry i’m running late

i’ll be there in 10mins?

you let out a sigh as you realize you’ll have to walk out in this weather, before you respond.

yeah sure it’s alright

i brought my umbrella too so

so glad to have a friend like you, thanks 👍

you consider getting up and going without him. you’re running late and you’ll be soaking by the time you make it. but you don’t. you don’t ever get up.

because you’d always wait for him. even if you know your feelings aren’t returned, you’d wait. you’d wait for him as long as it took. even if it’s raining.

“you told me that patience won’t change how you felt.”

you don’t mind sharing an umbrella. iwaizumi offers to hold over both of you, and tells you to move closer to him.

“aren’t you gonna be cold?” he asks.

“so i’ll stop being pretentious and loathing our friendship.”

from afar, you two look like a couple. his arm is around you, pulling you close enough that you can hear strangers who you nod at as you walk by whispering “aren’t they sweet?” when they think you’re out of earshot.

“let’s hope the weather is nicer than this in California,” you smile, he perks up when you mention his scholarship.

“then who’s gonna walk with you everyday?”

“i’m sure i’ll find someone,” you poke at him.

“you’d probably get lost by yourself”

“should’ve let you drown in the rain.” you laugh.

“so i’ll just take a footnote in your life.”

the truth is that you don’t want him to leave. you don’t want him to leave behind his life, the one that he shared so much of with you. you don’t want to drift apart from each other.

“we ate at a restaurant, the host said we’re cute.”

“thank you, we’re not together though.” he laughs, you don’t know if you should smile or look away from him.

“we are both good looking, though, are we not?” you wait until you’re both alone to make that joke.

he makes a face at you before he chuckles, “in your dreams, you wish.”

“we shared the moscato and laughed cause it’s true, for me.”

you’d dropped him off at the airport yesterday.

iwaizumi is the type to comfort you by taking your hand or patting you on the back. he prefers to show his affection by doing little things; he offers to carry your bags for you, he listens when you’re upset and won’t admit it, or like when he held that umbrella you shared.

hugs from iwaizumi are rare. but when it’s the last call and he’s supposed to be boarding the plane in a few minutes, your friend doesn’t know what else to do but to pull you in.

“i swear i’ll call you everyday,” he mutters as he notices you’re crying.

“you taught me a lesson, that feelings are reckless.”

and so you find yourself the day after walking alone for the first time, trying not to step into a puddle. you hadn’t realized how quick the autumn season was passing by until now. you notice how cold the wind has become while pondering about your best friend who’d just left. you stop in your tracks after you see a message from iwaizumi.

just landed. gotta unpack now 😭

maybe you’re glad you never acted on your feelings for him. that you’re not holding him back if you had confessed. you’re glad you were even able to be a part of his life, even if he’ll just remember you as “someone he used to know back home.”

“but a footnote will do. (please don’t forget me.)”

#— love lyssa #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi imagines #iwaizumi hajime x you #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime x reader #hajime iwaizumi #iwaizumi x you #hq x you #hq x gn!reader #hq x gn reader #iwaizumi x gn reader #iwaizumi angst #hq angst #haikyuu x reader angst #haikyu angst #iwaizumi hajime angst #hajime iwaizumi x you

[sashimiyas]

Hold My Hand, I’m Petrified

Summary: Iwaizumi is (was) your best friend, beloved but not in love with you.

Word count: 1.2k

Genre: angst; best friends to strangers; ambiguous relationship; ambiguous ending

A/n: do not expect drabbles from me anymore bc apparently i forgot how to write them!

“Let’s go.” Yachi gives an eager tug on your sleeve, already turned around and on their way to the exit. “Come on. Let’s go before he sees us.”

If you were stronger, you would have. You would have grabbed your best friend’s hand, pushed past the group of teenagers loitering by the door, and made the most dramatic exit complete with the slow motion look back.

You’re not though, at least not when it comes to him. The moment you locked eyes, you knew there was no way you could turn your back on him. As it always has been, you’re cemented in your spot, as if the full force of gravity singularly weighs down on you despite your best friend’s urging. He squeezes his company’s hand, a nonverbal cue that you’re well familiar with, the same time Yachi sighs and tells you she’ll be waiting outside.

The simple action pulls sorrow from your chest. Who knew it could be so viscous and sticky? It drags down your body like lava leaking from the crater of a volcano and nothing, no amount of scrubbing him away, allows him to let go. It’s been a desperate but futile attempt. You’ve dipped yourself in mud, rolled around in a pile of feathers, woken with the smell of someone else’s scent on you only for his to permeate into your skin and live in your lungs.

I’m right here and I promise I’ll be back. You decipher, in that one simple grip and draw of his thumb. Just the sight of it leaves a phantom burn in your skin, memory searing it into your brain and never forgotten. If there is anything about Hajime, it is that he is unforgettable.

Actually, if there is anything about Hajime, it is that he is well-mannered and polite. If he had the capacity to be a dirtbag, maybe you wouldn’t be in this situation at all. You could break his gaze in a defiant show of self-preservation and run off without a broken heart. If he was a scumbag, maybe you’d never have fallen in love with him and his sincere smile and his well-intentioned concern.

Instead, he’s good. Vulgar, big, buff, hard, and despite all physicality, so, so, so kind. And he’d never hurt you intentionally. Your friends question you when they hate on him only for you to come to his defense. It makes no logical sense. There’s no explanation for it. Maybe you’re done with the logic. It had ruled your relationship, the reason why you could never go further despite crossing lines drawn in sand no matter how muddled it turned when the tide of lust (love?) came. He is (was) your best friend. Anything beyond that is wishful thinking.

Yet the way he walks towards you and the deliberate hold of his gaze, as if assessing you, memorizing you, looking through you, is undeniable. It’s unnerving. Steady gazes always seemed like they were meant for steady hearts. They’re for late night talks under the stars, quiet conversations in the corner of a crowded party, for when the world felt balanced like you and him existed right at the exact coordinates for the earth to tilt right back into place.

The rest of your relationship with Hajime felt like dancing. One step forward, one step back. You flit around in four-four count, twirling away from him only for him to reel you in, and dip you down, smoldered and trapped  in the depths of his green. Confined in each other’s presence, there have been many times your footwork may have faltered and he happened to hold you close, as if dear, only for a cymbal to crash and bring the both of you back to the reality of the situation.

He is your best friend, beloved but not in love with you.

If he was though. If only he was.

You're conscious of everything about him – the way his shirt wrinkles against the pits, biceps too big, and his natural clean yet musky aroma. He’s grown out his hair, and his face has rounded. You think it might be bulking season for him which explains why he’s currently in a boba shop. The world muddles around you. You feel like you’re trapped in a snow globe, shaken up and stagnant, while everything else falls into place. He stops two paces too far. Hopefully the disappointment in your expression can be misconstrued for something else, anything else.

“Hey.” It comes out an octave too high. He thumbs into his pockets and pouts to the side, a hint of ruby peaking by his ears. Grunting, “I mean, hey. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Same.”

Uneasiness locks your voice and restrains any of the comfort that Hajime used to bring. There’s only dread, because what is a former best friend if not potentially your worst enemy? He is a retainer of all your secrets, possessor of the knowledge of everything about you. Yet now, he is no longer by respect or friendship. He is your personal sewage waste plant waiting to pour and wreak havoc on your life, as if he hasn’t inadvertently done so already.

“It’s good to see you.” He kindly says with a half step forward. That one half step has you drowning in the scent of his spearmint gum. You blink away flashbacks of one night mistakes that happened to land you in his bed, swapping breath like it were the only traces of oxygen left that are never mentioned the following morning.

If a body lands in bed, and no one is there to see it, did it ever happen at all?

Grimacing, you look away from him.

“You don’t feel–” He pauses and without his voice, the grumble of the cafe grows louder. “Are you here by yourself? Did you order already?”

 You shake your head. “No, I’m with Yachi. Remember her? She was in our psych class.”

“I thought we hated her.”

Your lips tilt downward even further. “No, she’s actually very nice. Sweet. She’s uhm, she was helpful when… She actually doesn’t like this place so we’re going to go to another shop down the street.”

“Well,” Hajime breathes and does his best to find the words he’s searching for. Is there one that describes relief and bitterness in one sentence? It all feels contradictory, but everything has been like that with you – extremes on both ends. You bring him to his knees, worshiping and weak. He understands now how revered gods were always feared because the hold you have on him is inhumane. He’d die for you, live for you, attempt the pursuit of happiness without you if you so desire. “That’s good.”

Good for you. He thinks.

“Yeah, thanks.” You adjust the wrinkles caught in your clothes. “Well, goodbye. Yachi gets grumpy without her boba.”

You turn away from him. One step backwards, one step forward. He grabs your hand in his. It is heavy and warm, plush in between his fingers and plump right at his palm. He squeezes once and draws his thumb at the back of your palm. The simple touch evokes such emotion out of you that your eyes begin to sting.

I’m right here and I promise I’ll be back.

You know what these nonverbal cues mean, but when you turn around, when you look into his eyes, why does it seem like you’ve finally unearthed what he’s truly hiding?

I love you.

#reina.writeshaikyuu!! #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime angst #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x reader

[hihello-pinky]

au where iwaizumi always buys flowers from your shop every feb 14 for the last four years until one day you muster the courage to strike up a conversation.

“you always get the biggest bouquet. whoever receives them must be happy every valentine’s day.”

and he gives you a small smile. “yeah, he’s probably happy.”

“probably?”

“you see,” iwaizum says, “these flowers aren’t for valentine’s day.”

he gives no further explanation so you’re left puzzled as you watch him leave the store. later that day, you finally learn the man’s unspoken words as you realize that your shop is the nearest flower boutique to the city cemetery.

#from my drafts #i wanted to hurt myself #maybe it’s oikawa #maybe not #haikyuu angst #haikyu angst #hq angst #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu scenarios #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi hajime angst #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu fic

[satoujo]

!disclaimer none of the works featured on this blog belong to me. all reachable creators were asked for permission to have their work linked on here

main directory

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

➵ series: story consisted of multiple chapters

➵ one-shot: a single piece of standalone work; can be any length, such as from 1k to 80k words

➵ drabbles: short piece of writing; typically under 1k words and usually around 100 words

➵ blurbs & others: small short description, headcanons, etc.

❀ = fluff ⋆˚ ✧ = angst ⋆˚ ♡ = smut ⋆˚ ✄ = crack

SERIES

tba

ONE-SHOT

tba

DRABBLE

domestic: blanket stealing (❀) by @augustinewrites

warnings/notes: none

fighting (❀ ✧ ✄) by @emmyrosee

warnings/notes: slight angst, mostly crack, banter (?)

a needed conversation (❀ ✧ ✄) by @emmyrosee

warnings/notes: slight angst, established relationship, banter, oikawa gets bullied by iwa and reader

BLURBS & OTHERS

HEADCANONS

boyfriend hcs (❀) by @miya-rin

updated: dec 25, 2023

#iwaizumi hajime angst #iwaizumi hajime smut #iwaizumi hajime fluff #iwaizumi haijime x reader #iwaizumi hajime x you #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you

[noosayog]

[IT'S ALWAYS BEEN YOU] - knight! Iwaizumi x princess! reader

warnings/content: royal au, arranged marriage, mutual pining, lots of angst, fluff

total wc: 10.7k

part 1: ever since you were a child, you've been in love with your brother's best friend, one of your father's most trusted knights. but your blissful days with Hajime come to an end when your impending engagement to the prince of another kingdom is announced.

part 2: you would run away with Hajime today if he allowed it.

part 3: your fiancee has an interesting proposition for you and Hajime is not pleased

part 4: you and Iwaizumi could never be. Iwaizumi would make sure of it.

part 4.5: Iwaizumi never thought that one day, Toru would be the voice of reason.

part 5: everyone seems to know something about your own wedding that you don't. never mind that, it seems strangely irresponsible for all of them to be asking you about your feelings for Hajime when you're to be married to another tonight.

part 6, final: you chose between marrying a Prince and a knight who spent half his life hurting you. despite how it sounds, the right choice has never been more apparent.

bonus: remembering your coming of age celebration and the first time iwaizumi felt what he would later come to know as jealousy

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

[ilylovelyz]

⍣ ೋ the times they cried because of you

☆ includes ushijima, iwaizumi, atsumu, kageyama, bokuto

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[chimielie]

girlfriend

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

word count: 2.4k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was a perfect first kiss.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You cry when you see him again.

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

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

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

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

"No."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He lets go of your hands, crosses his arms.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shake your head. "I believe you."

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

"Yes, really."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[katszumi]

Part Two

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

Another win, yet another loss in his book.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you.”

-

IWAIZUMI BRAINROT OH MY GOSH😫

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

[kentobb]

‘I hate you’

Character: Husband!Iwaizumi x Wife!Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Realization hit him like a punch in the gut.

She had heard it all.

Fuck.

Was it possible? It couldn’t be!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Reblogs, notes and comments are appreciated!

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

[hanaonesflower]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[cr4yolaas]

second best (pt 2) — iwaizumi hajime

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

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

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

it was tuesday.

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

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

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

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

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

you needed to leave.

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

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

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

it took one week for him to actually conversate.

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

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

“no reason. just curious.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

it was a monotonous cycle, but enjoyable nonetheless.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you missed iwaizumi hajime.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you could not help but oblige.

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

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

“hajime.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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