Various â Hair Ties & Heartstrings
(timeskip era, dad fluff, domestic softness) includes Ushijima, Daichi, Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Kuroo, Bokuto.
â they were warriors on the court, but no battle was harder than tiny hair ties and baby curls.
ââââââââ ââ ââ â ââââââââ
Ushijima Wakatoshi
he treats your daughterâs hair like itâs a matter of national importance.
you walk into the living room to find him sitting perfectly upright on the floor, legs folded neatly beneath him, your toddler perched in front of him with her hands resting obediently on her lap. the television plays a paused tutorial, and ushijima watches it with the exact same laser focus he once reserved for analyzing opposing teams. he rewinds the same ten seconds over and over, studying the way the woman twists the strands.
your daughter keeps glancing up at him, eyes wide, waiting for instructions. he touches her shoulder gently. âhold still,â he murmurs, and his tone is so soft she melts instantly, chin lifting with pride.
he works slowly, delicately, his large hands surprisingly gentle. he doesnât rush. he doesnât fumble. he simply concentrates, carefully dividing her hair into sections while occasionally checking the screen again. when he finishes the braid, itâs not perfectâlumpy in a few places, slightly loose at the bottomâbut your daughter squeals the moment she sees it in the mirror, hugging his leg.
ushijima looks at you over her head, expression unreadable to most, but you know exactly what it means: tell me how to improve. and later that night, when he sits behind you on the couch with a comb in hand, determined to practice on you too, you canât help but smile at how earnest he isâhow badly he wants to be gentle in every way a father should be.
Daichi Sawamura
daichi genuinely believed pigtails would be easy.
heâd handled rowdy teams, survived countless practices where everyone ignored his instructions, and he's a police officerâhe thought two little elastic bands would be nothing. but ten minutes in, heâs sweating like he ran suicides. the comb keeps getting caught, your daughter keeps turning her head to talk to him, and every part he makes immediately shifts lopsided.
âsweetheart,â he sighs, âyou have to stop movingâ no, donât twistâ oh, no, that made it worseâ okay, hold stillâ no, not like thaââ
youâre biting your lip to keep from laughing.
eventually he manages two pigtails. theyâre⊠not even. at all. one sits higher, the other is fluffier, and the ends stick out like theyâre trying to escape. but when your daughter sees herself, she beams so brightly daichi forgets every struggle he just went through.
âdaddy did it!â
the way he softensâabsolutely meltsâshould be illegal. later, when he slumps onto the couch beside you, rubbing a hand over his face, you lean into his shoulder. âthey looked cute,â you tell him.
he groans. âone was pointing due east.â
âstill cute.â
and the tiny smile he gives you tells the whole storyâhe would fight a thousand lopsided pigtails if it meant making her smile like that again.
Oikawa Tooru
oikawa is convinced heâs good at this.
why? because he watches hair tutorials on tiktok sometimes. because he thinks he understands aesthetics. because he has three daughters, and confidence is all a man needs, right?
you walk into chaos.
one girl is sitting with her hair half-combed. another is running laps around the living room wearing a tutu. the third is holding a handful of clips and trying to convince oikawa to use all of them. he is trying to negotiate with them like theyâre all tiny diplomats.
âokay, okayâ one clip each, no more, or daddyâs going to lose his mindâ mina, sit stillâ no, not that clip, it clashes with your shirtâ no, no, donât cry, weâll find another bowâ hey, donât eat thatââ
you lean on the doorframe, watching him juggle all three girls like theyâre an entire volleyball lineup.
eventually, he manages hairstyles for all of themâmessy but adorable, creative but chaotic. the girls sprint off proudly, showing each other their âprincess hair,â and oikawa collapses onto the couch like heâs survived a natural disaster.
âi am amazing,â he says weakly, throwing his head back.
you kiss his cheek. âyouâre tired.â
âiâm both,â he mumbles, curling into you like he needs emotional CPR. âkiss me again so i donât die.â
you do.
and he absolutely purrs like he just earned MVP.
Iwaizumi Hajime
heâs trying so hard to be gentle.
but his hands are built for power, not precision, and every time he tries to stretch a hair tie, it snaps with a loud pop. your daughter laughs every single time, clapping her hands, thinking this is the funniest thing sheâs ever seen.
iwaizumi groans, head falling back, hair tie dangling pathetically from his fingers. âi swear iâm not doing it on purpose.â
âyouâre too strong,â she says with absolute seriousness, patting his bicep.
his ears turn red.
finally, after enough snapped elastics to create a small graveyard, he manages to gather her hair into the tiniest, cutest ponytail imaginable. itâs barely an inch long. itâs crooked. it looks like a sprout. but she beams at him in the mirror.
âitâs perfect, daddy!â
iwaizumiâs whole expression softensâjust melts right through his tough exterior. he scoops her up, peppering her face with kisses until she squeals.
later, when you pinch his cheek and tell him, âyou did a good job,â he grumbles under his breath but leans into your touch anyway, muttering something about âneeding better elastics next time.â
Kuroo Tetsurou
kuroo is ambitious.
your daughter asks for a âballerina bun,â and he agrees before you can warn him what heâs getting into. ten minutes later, he looks like a man whoâs questioning every decision heâs made in life. the bun keeps unraveling, the pins keep slipping, and every time he tucks one piece away, another pops out dramatically.
your daughter is unfazedâsheâs eating crackers and humming to herself like this is the funniest show sheâs ever watched.
âstop laughing at me,â kuroo mutters as another pin clatters to the floor.
âiâm not laughing,â she lies immediately, crumbs on her face.
you step in only long enough to give him one tip on twisting from the base rather than the ends. he tries again, expression fierce with determination, tongue poking from the corner of his mouth.
this time⊠it works.
the bun is slightly crooked, a little fluffy, and honestly adorable. your daughter beams at herself in the mirrorâthen clips a tiny pink bow into kurooâs hair for âhelping.â
he freezes.
âoh. so thatâs how itâs gonna be.â
youâre laughing as he lets her add two more. he kisses your cheek on his way past, voice soft.
âshe gets the hair,â he murmurs, âbut the cute part? she definitely gets from you.â
Bokuto Koutarou
bokuto hits every emotional mode in five minutes.
he starts confident. âi got this! easy! her hair is likeâ like a tiny broom! i can do broom stuff!â he does not, in fact, âgot this.â
two minutes later, heâs dramatically hunched over, mumbling, âher hair hates me⊠iâm a failureâŠâ your daughter pats his head. âitâs okay, daddy.â
you kneel beside him and show him how to brush from the bottom up to avoid tangles. his entire face lights up like youâve taught him a secret technique passed down from ancient hair masters.
âOH. BABE. THATâS SO SMART.â
he tries again. slower. gentler. concentrating so hard you swear you can hear gears turning in his head. and finallyâfinallyâhe gets her hair into the cutest little puff ponytail.
he lifts her into the air triumphantly. âLOOK AT YOU!! YOUâRE SO CUTE!! I MADE THAT!!â
she giggles, clinging to him, and bokuto beams like he just won nationals.
when she runs off, he wraps his arms around you from behind, chin resting on your shoulder. âthanks for helping,â he murmurs, softer, sweeter. âi wanna be good at this.â
you lean back into him, smiling. âyou already are.â
and the way he squeezes you tells you he believes it.
ââââââââ ââ ââ â ââââââââ
requested by @thecranberrypineapple

















