Iwaizumi’s a possessive little bastard, though he’d never admit to it.
He’s constantly keeping a hand on you.
A big palm against the small of your back as you walk, fingers hooked in the belt loop of you jeans in crowded places, finding any opportunity to tug you into his lap.
It’s never overbearing, just a silent reminder that you’re with him.
Caught someone’s attention? No worry.
He’ll casually pull you in by the back of your neck, dropping a slow, lingering kiss against your lips before letting you go like it was nothing.
If he’s especially pissy, his hands settle a little firmer on your hips, leaving a messy trail of kisses down your neck, while he stares down whoever was so interested.
He never starts fights over it. Never puffs his chest out or acts like some jealous freak.
He just makes it painfully obvious where you belong, all without saying a single word.
Then, hours later, when you’re home, he’ll grumble into your shoulder, “That guy was lookin at you too much,” like you hadn’t already figured that much out.
He’s never a jerk about it. He knows it’s not your fault and he definitely knows how to handle his own.
But sometimes when he’s got your legs shaking around his waist, purposely groaning right into your ear, he can’t help but make you say it.
Cant help but practically beg you to tell him you’re his, that’s he’s got you good.
And sure, maybe Iwaizumi’s a little possessive, but it’s never really an issue.
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“ohhmmmyyygooosshhhf,” you slur, cheeks a bright red as your head spun.
“everything okay?” a man asks, holding your wrist with concern.
“mmhmmm! jus— just realized something,” you chirp, one too many shot glasses clinking together on the table as the hustle and bustle of others continue.
“yeah? what is it?” he chuckles. you look around with suspicioun, cautiously studying the area for any rubbernecks.
“‘s a secret. promise you won’t tell nobody?” you hiccup, raising your pinky in front of his face.
“promise,” he smiles, locking his own pinky with yours. you smile, scooching in closer to reveal your secret.
“i have a crush on someone…” you whispered, sweet alcohol laced in your breath.
“that so?” he smirks. “who is it?”
“his name’s hajime. iwaizumi. hehe hajime,” you giggle to yourself. he smiles, letting you continue.
“he’s sssoooo handsome. so caring and nice, too. sometimes, i have dreams of him telling me he loves me,” you ramble, words tripping over themselves. he laughs as you mimick what dream-hajime does to you, cupping the air as if it had a face, pushing your lips together in a smooch, and saying “i love you” in the deepest voice you could make (albeit with a few voice cracks).
“oh really? sounds like a nice guy,” he smiles, resting his chin on his hand as he traces the rim of his empty water glass.
“and sometimes… i wanna kiss hajime. like, on his soft, pretty lips,” you admit, giggling to yourself like a high school girl.
“yeah? i think hajime would like that,” he replies. you beam at his words, scooching closer to him once more.
“ah, really?! maybe i’ll kiss him tonight then! if he wants to, hehe.”
a server comes back with a card and a black, leather check presenter. the man gently thanks him, placing his card and receipt in his wallet before checking the table for anything else. he gently takes your purse hooked on the chair next to him, slings it over his shoulder, and kneels before you.
“ready to go, mrs. iwaizumi?” he asks, voice patient as he holds out his left hand, a ring slightly catching the light above.
“but, we were just talking,” you pout. “wait… mrs? ah— iwaizumi?” you ask, now processing his words. he only smiles, rubbing your knee with his other hand.
“hajime wants you home now, okay?” he says, words carefully woven with warmness. you look down at your hand and see a ring, one that matches his. your eyes slightly widen in realization, but not one that sobers you up. you nod your head and let him lift you up, wobbling on your heels as he walks you to the car.
even as you wake up the next morning, head pounding and mouth dry, you find hajime asleep in front of you, lips slightly parted as he holds you close. the gaps in shadows let the sun’s light in, painting him a soft, golden hue. he grumbles in his sleep, pulling you somehow closer as his lips instinctively find their way to your forehead. without another movement, he drifts off back to his deep slumber.
I had a really weird dream last night, and this is the most coherent thing I can make of it without writing an essay.
She's a bog body. I'm not exactly sure the peat bog situation in West Africa, but I read that there's one in Congo "the size of England", and that's close enough in geography for it to be plausible.
they overhear you complimenting/gushing about them in front of your friends - kuroo, iwa, tendou, yamaguchi
kuroo
you guys are studying together in a library
when he’s busy looking for a specific book, you send a voice message to your besfriend
you start gushing about him, how smart he is, how hot he looks, and how happy you are to be here with him
you think he’s too far away, but you don’t notice he’s approaching behind you
he got his typical big grin on his lips, but he’s also blushing a little
he sat down and at the beginning he won’t saying anything
then all of sudden he would bring it up
"so you think i’m a hottie mmh?" he asks showing that big grin on his face, his cheek resting on his palm, looking at you with a sly look. and he will tease you for this forever.
iwaizumi
you are watching one of his matches with your friends
as a match point he spiked and lead his team to victory
since then you can’t stop gushing about him
even in the hallways where you are waiting for him, you keep saying how incredible he plays and how much you adore him
so invested in it you don’t realize he’s getting closer to you
he scratches the back of his neck and try to hold back a smirk. "so you enjoyed the match?" he tries to ask you casually, but you can see in his flustered expression he totally caught your words
tendou
you were at his birthday party
now in the kitchen with your friends to grab some sodas
they ask you how things are going with him, and you start saying the sweetest things about him
he was looking for you, when he stops in his tracks on the doorstep
his cup mid-air, and his lips slightly parted
he’s taken aback by your words, his body is froze but he’s exploding of joy inside. when you turn to see him he's smiling like an idiot and a little blush is on his cheeks
yamaguchi
you are in the classroom chatting with your friends while Yamaguchi was outside for lunch with Tsukishima
one of them asks you about him with a little teasing grin
you blush and start to list all the things you like about him
he entered the room while you were specifically telling how great he is at volleyball
and especially how well he does his serves
he catches your words and his eyes widen, his cheeks burning red. he brings his hands up to cover his face. "y-you really think so!?"
thanks for reading!! feel free to ask me for other characters
one volleyball loss, four cups of convenience store pudding, mario kart violence, and a man clinging like emotional duct tape.
wc: 1.2k, request
the gym still smelled like dust and disappointment when you found him.
it wasn’t poetic or cinematic—no rain, no dramatic lighting, no swelling soundtrack. just the quiet aftermath of a loss that felt too big for the building, too heavy for his shoulders. the miyagi spring qualifier semi-finals were over, karasuno had won, and the echo of the final whistle was still ringing somewhere behind your eyes.
iwaizumi sat on the bench like gravity had personally singled him out.
his towel was draped over his head, damp hair sticking to his forehead, elbows on his knees, hands clenched together so tightly his knuckles looked pale. he hadn’t cried. that was almost worse. you knew him well enough to know the silence meant the storm was brewing somewhere deep, gnawing, chewing through him slowly like a very rude emotional termite.
you didn’t say his name right away.
you just sat next to him.
the bench creaked in protest, the sound obnoxiously loud in the empty gym. he didn’t flinch. didn’t look up. just breathed in, out, in, out—like if he stopped, the whole thing might spill out of him all at once.
your knee bumped his. on purpose.
“hey, iwa.”
his shoulders tensed. then sagged.
“…hey.”
it came out hoarse, like he’d swallowed gravel and pride in equal measure.
you leaned forward, elbows on your thighs, mimicking his posture like a quiet mirror. “you wanna stay here until they kick us out, or do you wanna go somewhere with heating and snacks?”
a beat.
“…snacks.”
“excellent choice,” you said solemnly. “your decision-making skills remain unmatched.”
that got a tiny huff out of him. not a laugh. but close. like the ghost of one.
you stood first, holding out your hand without looking at him. it hung there between you, patient. steady.
after a second, he took it.
his grip was warm. tight. like he was afraid if he let go, you’d evaporate on the spot. you didn’t comment on it. just squeezed back.
iwaizumi’s apartment was quiet in that lived-in, safe way. shoes kicked off by the door. his jacket tossed carelessly over a chair. the lights were dim, curtains half-drawn, city glow sneaking in like it was trying not to interrupt.
you handed him a pudding cup and a spoon.
he stared at it for a moment. “you remembered the flavor.”
“obviously,” you said. “chocolate first, vanilla if things get dire.”
his mouth twitched. “they got dire.”
“they did,” you agreed gently, settling onto the couch beside him. “extremely dire. historic levels of dire.”
he snorted despite himself, then sighed, long and heavy. “we should’ve had that set. if i’d just—”
“iwa,” you said softly.
he stopped.
you turned to face him fully. “you played your heart out. all of you did. one game doesn’t rewrite that.”
he swallowed, jaw tight. “it feels like it does.”
you didn’t argue. you just leaned in, resting your head against his shoulder. the contact was small but intentional, like placing a bookmark in the moment.
his body went rigid for half a second.
then he melted.
he slumped sideways until his temple rested against the top of your head, spoon forgotten, pudding untouched. his arm hovered awkwardly behind you, unsure.
you nudged him with your foot. “iwa. you can put your arm around me. i’m not made of glass.”
“…i know,” he muttered.
then his arm came down, slow and careful, settling around your shoulders like he was afraid to startle you. his hand flexed once, twice, then stilled.
you stayed like that for a while. the city hummed outside. somewhere down the street, someone laughed too loudly. life, rude as ever, kept going.
“…thanks for coming,” he said quietly.
“where else would i be?”
he didn’t answer. just tightened his arm around you a fraction, like the thought itself was something precious he needed to protect.
mario kart started as a joke.
it always did.
“winner picks dinner,” you said, grabbing a controller.
iwaizumi eyed you. “you cheated last time.”
“i absolutely did not.”
“you threw a blue shell on the last lap.”
“strategic excellence,” you corrected. “skill issue.”
his competitive spirit flickered back to life like a pilot light. “pick your character.”
you grinned. “baby peach.”
he groaned. “you’re evil.”
“and you love me,” you sang.
“…i tolerate you,” he said, but his ears were red.
the first race was chaos. you screamed. he yelled. someone got hit by a banana peel and accused the other of sabotage. at some point, he leaned forward so hard he nearly fell off the couch, shouting threats at a digital bowser like the turtle could hear him.
you laughed until your stomach hurt.
for a little while, the loss loosened its grip on him. his smile came easier. his eyes lit up. he bumped your shoulder when he passed you on the track, victorious and smug.
“don’t get cocky,” you warned. “i’m emotionally fragile and capable of crimes.”
he laughed—really laughed this time, head tipped back, eyes squeezed shut. the sound did something funny to your chest.
by the third race, you were both sprawled sideways, legs tangled, your head resting against his arm. neither of you bothered to move.
somewhere between rainbow road and coconut mall, your eyelids started to droop.
iwaizumi noticed immediately.
he always did.
“hey,” he murmured. “you good?”
“mhm,” you hummed. “just… comfy.”
his thumb brushed absently against your shoulder. once. twice. like he was testing the feeling, committing it to memory.
“you can sleep,” he said. “i’ll keep playing.”
“you’re gonna win without me,” you protested weakly.
he smiled down at you, soft and fond. “i already won.”
you didn’t have the energy to ask what he meant.
sleep took you gently.
iwaizumi didn’t move when your breathing evened out.
not a muscle.
you were warm against him, tucked into his side like you’d always belonged there. your hair brushed his jaw every time you shifted, and he had to clench his teeth to keep from reacting too obviously.
he looked down at you like you were something holy.
precious. irreplaceable. terrifyingly important.
“…thank you,” he whispered, barely louder than the hum of the console.
you didn’t stir.
his fingers curled slightly into the fabric of your hoodie, subtle, possessive in a way that scared him if he thought about it too hard. he leaned his head against the back of the couch, eyes never leaving your face.
“you always know when to show up,” he murmured. “like you’re wired into me or something.”
he swallowed.
“i don’t know what i’d do without you.”
his thumb brushed your cheek, feather-light. he pressed a kiss to your forehead, lingering just a second longer than necessary.
“i swear,” he whispered, voice rough with emotion, “i’ll do better. i’ll be better. for you.”
another kiss. softer.
“thank you for staying.”
you smiled.
just a little.
he froze.
“…are you awake?”
you didn’t answer. just shifted closer, nose pressing into his chest, fingers curling into his shirt like it was the most natural thing in the world.
his heart nearly exploded.
he laughed quietly, breathless and awed, arm tightening around you like he’d never let go as long as he lived.
“yeah,” he murmured, resting his chin atop your head. “sleep. i’ve got you.”
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wc: 0.8k
content warning: smut, trainer iwaizumi x reader, basically a bj, not proofread
note: holy shit has this been at the back of my mind...... likeee anything with the words iwaizumi hajime (27) atheletic trainer: SIGN ME TF UP NOW.
𝜗ৎ◌˚⠀｡
fuck, your new fitness trainer was so hot.
peeking in glances at iwaizumi's well-built figure, you can't help but feel all nervous that you're gonna slip up under his gaze. his sharp eyes tail you, making sure your form is impeccable and hits the right points, even though his broad and tender arms are always there for you if you struggle. at some point, you thought about playing the struggling, unfit student just to see iwaizumi catch you and feel his muscles beneath you. course, you needed to stand up and make sure you're getting all the benefits from every single penny you pay him.... butttt that's also technically part of the session, right?
after a quick break for some refreshing water, eyes still locked onto iwaizumi in the corner of the room. he's taking off his fitted jacket, showing off his toned biceps that flexed in the light covered in a thin sheen of sweat. shit.... this guy might just be the real deal. who needed the old trainer anyway now that you've got iwaizumi.
meeting his eyes with yours, immediately you can't help but look away to which he does as well. though, your eyes just happened to land on the tent emerging in the middle of his crotch, to which he tries to hide when he realizes you may have seen something that wasn't part of the training plan.
continuing with your paid session, you can't help but feel the intimate tension rise when you're put into these more constricting poses that make you feel closer to him than you were before. well.. especially after that little moment. though it does seem like you're not the only one who acknowledged the incident since his tent keeps growing beneath you.
the position you were in didn't help much either. overall, this "stretch" seemed more sexual than to improve your flexibility, but you didn't really mind since the view was much to your standards with that face and body of his. the intensity is driving him crazy, the sentences he spoke turned into quiet stutters while you lay underneath his big body that was engulfed in the heat.
"let me help you.. you're feeling this more than i am," getting on your knees, you looking up at him with the more innocent but seductive look in your eyes.
shit, did that turn iwaizumi a bright red.
putting a fist to his pressed lips, he cleared his throat.
"if you insist."
gently, you pushed him back to where he sat on the bench. unzipping his shorts, his cock sprang up from its compressed little tent. iwaizumi's cock was huge, you didn't even know if it'll all fit in your mouth, much rather your pussy that has been gushing with juices the moment you saw him walk in.
palm at the base of his cock that twitched with your gentle touch, precum already on the tip of his cock, you stroked. his intense eyes bored into your scalped while watching you pump his cock to the max. iwaizumi's beyond red at this point trying to resist the urge to already reach his climax. fuck he was so glad you asked to help him, if not he probably wouldn't exploded in his shorts by now seeing you under him in that pose, "stretch" his ass. he just wanted to see you with your legs behind your head.
the continuous pumping's getting him so riled up he just can't watch this anymore. it's like a fantasy come true fucking on the job. iwaizumi wanted to watch you take all of him in your small little mouth as your plump lips wrap around him.
"can you suck already.. our time for our session is almost up" iwazumi's voice is husky and breathy as he tries his best to hold back.
following his request, you slowly teased him by licking the precum that overflowed from his tip as he gazed. before you could even go down on his whole cock, mouth wide about to go down, his large hand pushed you to the base of his cock. your nose basically at his trimmed hairs. iwaizumi's grunting in satisfaction of your soft and hot plush mouth surrounds his cock in pure euphoria.
fuck... you couldn't even breathe but damn was this all you ever wanted.
tears started to swell at the corner of your eyes from the sudden and sharp movement. the pain of his tip hitting the back of your throat in one big move hissed at you, but you couldn't care less. you're spending every penny worth for every session you pay iwaizumi for, and he knows what you want every time now.
iwa pretends not to care about valentine's day, telling shittykawa that NO HES NOT JEALOUS OF THE MOUNTAIN OF PRESENTS THE CAPTAIN GETS, but deep down he waits all day for you to give him chocolate (peeking at you in the hallways to make sure you're not giving it to another boy). but you don't give him any and he sulks and mattsun and makki make fun of him for frowning like an old man during practice, but when he comes out of the clubroom and you're THERE, ALL CUTE WITH YOUR RED CHEEKS AND A SHY SMILE, offering him chocolate, he can't help but grin and blush and yeah, he puts the box on a shelf in his room, next to his medals, and stares at it for who knows how long—and he's convinced he could die happy.
