The Usual Oikawa Slander

take it easy baby, make it last all night - iwaizumi hajime/f!reader (1.5k) tags: cali!iwa, college!iwa, tit worship, dry humping, mentioned cumming in pants, no actual sex (sorry fellas), bi iwa is canon and if you disagree you're a coward xo!

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT - 18+

iwaizumi's biggest culture shock when he moves from japan to california for school isn't the different language, the heat, or even the party culture at UCI. 

it's the SKIN.

hajime has never stopped to consider the conservative conventions of his home country at any great length, since it's all he's ever known. but suddenly he's in sunny SoCal, and everywhere he looks he's met with glimpses of exposed skin—of parts of strangers' bodies he never thought he'd see. 

it flusters him at first; never quite sure where to look when he's speaking to a girl in a low-cut crop top, or a guy he meets out on a jog who'd forgone a shirt. but he acclimatizes to it eventually. comes to appreciate it in many ways, too.

take the humble tube top, for instance.

sure he likes bikinis, and mini skirts, and those skimpy skin-tight dresses girls wear on nights out. he likes those tiny running shorts that ride up on the track teams thighs when they go out for runs on campus near the athletics building, muscle tees cut low under the arms that the guys at the gym wear, or those grey-sweatpants whose infamy hajime has come to understand.

but there's something about tube tops that he just adores.

or, at least, something about you wearing one.

he's been watching you quietly for most of the night, flitting around the party like you normally do, nursing your drink in small sips to make it last. your tube top clings snugly to your chest, and fuck he's pretty sure you're not even wearing a bra underneath it. he watches the way your body moves, the way the top moves with it. the way your tits lift and settle again, pretty and soft, each time you subtly adjust the top with a little tug. 

you gravitate towards him in intervals throughout the night, like a moth to a flame.

that's another thing hajime's come to like about america: no one bats an eye at PDA.

you sit comfortably in his lap on the sofa at the house party, playing with his fingers where his hand rests on your thigh. your body is warm. his body is warm. the party's crowded, the little house off campus jammed with students and driving the temperature up, but still he keeps you exactly where you are with his arm looped around your waist.

"hey," you say, peeking back at him over your shoulder after a while of idly tracing your fingertips along his knuckles. "you having fun?"

he is, but probably not for the reasons you think. he couldn't care less about the merriment around him: the happiest he's been all night are the moments where you've drifted back within arm's reach. he nods anyway.

you pout a little, and it surprises him.

"you wanna get outta here?" he asks curiously, picking up on your unvoiced disappointment. your eyes watch his lips as they shape the question, and then flicker back up to his.

"yeah."

the first year hajime spent in california, he lived in a tiny UCI dorm. the second, he moved into a small apartment off campus with some friends he'd met at school. the apartment isn't luxurious by any stretch of the imagination. it's austere; spartanly decorated; and with four college-age boys living in it, it isn't always the tidiest place. but one thing he appreciates about his living arrangement is that on a friday night, the place is usually empty.

not to mention it has a double bed.

hajime has you sprawled across it almost as soon as the two of you stumble through his bedroom door. you laugh a little at his eagerness as you tip back onto the mattress, bouncing lightly atop the padded springs, and then he's crawling in overtop of you, pressing his mouth against yours.

he's greedy as he kisses you, like he's making up for all the times he thought about it while he watched you that night from afar. his hands are just as intrepid, drifting along your body in careful but keen grazes and gropes. everything about you is so soft—it makes his head spin how delicate every part of you he touches feels. the soft swells of your curves, the silkiness of your skin, the little sounds he pulls from you when the presses against the places you like most.

he leans back on his knees, poised between your parted thighs as you lay flat on your back underneath him, and finally—after hours of praising its very existence—hajime tugs down the neckline of your tube top.

your chest spills out as the thin material is drawn away by a single finger looped under the edge as leverage. as your skin, all of your skin, is bared to him, hajime finds himself once again so so pleased with his decision to study abroad. 

god bless america has never rung so true.

"fuck, you're so pretty," hajime groans, cupping a hand around each of your tits and pressing them together. you laugh but it's a breathy sound, more air than anything. his thumbs skim gently against the edges of your nipples, working them into stiff little peaks. after a moment, he dips down and catches one in his mouth, closing his lips around it so his tongue can take up the task.

he continues like this for a while, alternating between each breast, switching from his hands to his mouth as he lavishes your skin with attention and sates the thirst that had built throughout the evening. when he opts to use his hands, his mouth quickly finds its way to somewhere else, keeping itself occupied—your collarbones, your throat, your jaw, your lips. he kisses every inch of you that he can reach, but pays special attention to any little freckle or mark he finds along his way, dragging the tip of his tongue against them like he's savouring the taste of them most.

the two of you have been grinding lazily against each other while he devours you. iwa’s straddling one of your trembling thighs, his knee pressed firmly against the seam of your tiny denim shorts, and his painfully hard cock is pinned against your hip as he holds himself up over you. your tube top is still rucked down around your ribs, and iwa’s own t-shirt had been hastily tugged off over his head at some point during the excitement.

"hajime," you pant, tugging against the short hair at his nape as he suckles a bruise into the top of your left breast. he draws back only enough to meet your eyes, though his are unfocused and heavy-lidded, and his warm breath catches on the wet mark of spit left where his lips had just been attached. you look similarly wrecked: lips swollen and kiss-bruised, your stare glassy, your skin dewy with the flush of perspiration. your lips are still parted after having uttered his name so desperately.

that’s another thing iwa likes about it here. he likes being called by his name.

especially like this.

hajime rocks his hips against your own again, pressing his knee against you a little harder, groaning and he dips down and nips at your skin once more.

“i think i’m gonna cum,” he admits through gritted teeth, half-embarrassed and half-recklessly chasing the high he feels cresting in the pit of his stomach. he’s barely even touched you yet—at least not in any way that counts—but seeing you like this in his bed, tasting you in the way he has been, feeling your body react underneath his own, it’s all just a bit too much.

you could chide him for his clumsy eagerness and he wouldn’t even blame you for it, he feels like a pent-up teenager when he gets like this. but you don’t tease him, or reprimand him. instead, you take his cheeks in your hands and guide his lips back up to yours, letting his tongue slide—hot and wet and indecently noisy—against your own.

“cum then,” you whisper into his mouth, canting your hips up to meet the next roll of his. “wanna feel it, haji.”

and fuck if it’s not the hottest thing he’s ever heard.

iwaizumi moans brokenly, his hips picking up a steadier rhythm as he ruts against you. he’s being greedy, he knows that, but how could he deny you your request when you posed it so sweetly?

but he’ll make you feel good afterwards, just like he always does. unclasping the button at the waist of those tiny shorts, peeling them down with the same reverence he’d paid to your top and turning his rapt attention to what he bares there in just the same way too.

it’s friday night in sunny southern california, after all. and hajime intends to make the most of every minute.

Osamu leaves his phone number on napkins as a way to flirt with you.

You find them everywhere. Anywhere. It’s almost always the same thing- a chicken scratched version of your name, a crudely drawn winky face, and his phone number. If it wasn’t his phone number, it was another silly flirt, cheesy as can be and making your cheeks heat up each and every time you catch it.

who needs the galaxy when the only stars i want are in your eyes?

if i could rearrange the alphabet, id put U and I together

your hand looks heavy… want me to hold it for you?

call me ;}

And you’d be completely smitten with these originally, rolling your eyes and telling him how inappropriate it was leaving little napkins scattered around the back of Onigiri Miya for you.

But you don’t have to. Because you’ve been engaged for seven months by now.

“You don’t have to waste the napkins like this,” you snip playfully, tossing a wad onto the desk he’s occupied at. “You could very easily just text me your silly ass flirts.”

He chuckles and shakes his head, standing up and strutting confidently towards you. “You wound me baby,” he says, pulling you in for an embrace. “Is it a crime to leave little love letters for my little love?” You fake a gag and he rolls his eyes before pulling you in for a hug, “besides, how will everyone know you’re mine if I don’t?”

“I wear a fat rock on my finger every day, we come in together, and I know you’ve given me marks that I’ve been unable to cover- trust me, I think they get it.”

He lets his eyes glaze up and down before settling on your lips again, “well what if I just want you to know I love you? Huh?”

“I come back here, and you tell me,” you offer with another kiss, which he takes happily. “You always tell me.” Your arms snake around his thick neck, fingers playing with the short hairs of his undercut just to hear him shiver. He settles his hands on your waist and gives you a small, playful pout.

“You really don’t like my napkin-flirts?”

“I don’t like you wasting napkins,” you snort. “Gotta leave some for the customers and staff, angel boy.”

He sighs dramatically, “fine. No more flirt napkins.”

“Good,” you say, smiling. In truth, it does seem weird that you’ll start walking into work without crude little napkins flirting with you, but it’s for the best. And it is weird for a few days, even to the point some of your staff asks about the lack of affectionate little notes.

But the strange feeling doesn’t last.

Instead, it upgrades to bright pink sticky notes, littered around the shop in a familiar fashion to the napkins, only now, stuck in place for you to find throughout the restaurant.

And every now and again, all over the house. All over.

But who would’ve known, he was right.

Because you’d be lying if you say you do hate the unprofessional little reminders.

Confessing Through Kabedon But It's a Failure (HCs)

A/N: High school setting. This is all crack. I think I’m funny sometimes. Tagging @sempiternal-amour and @miki-snake, who helped me with this idea.

Miya Atsumu

Was too overexcited to kabedon you, he ran straight for you. In your fear of being barrelled over, you dodge and Atsumu ends up running straight into the wall. His face was red as fuck when he hit the wall with a loud “THWACK” and he falls on his back. Suna has it on video. Osamu looks satisfied. Omimi is dying from laughter. Kita is confused. You are also confused what the fuck just happened.

Miya Osamu

Slapped the wall so hard, the sound made everyone around you two look. You look up at him staring silently wondering what the fuck is going on; but then there’s a tinkling sound and Osamu’s off running after the ice cream truck. You just stood there going, “What the fuck?!” Suna and Akagi walks up to you with a muttered, “Condolences.” Atsumu felt so bad, he gave you his pudding. Aran is facepalming.

Kuroo Tetsurou

Kabedon-ed you but leaned in so closely that you had to crane your neck up to look at him. You got annoyed and tug on his tie to lower his face to your level. Which short-circuited his brain and now he forgot what he was going to say as he gapes at you like a fish. You thought he was messing with you so you just left. He stayed there staring at the wall, face red and brain still fried. Yaku saw and told the entire team.

Kenma Kozume

Did it because Kuroo pestered him enough about it. He sighed as he kabedon-ed you and he looked so done you thought he was leaning on the wall because he was about to faint. You didn’t listen to his claims of being fine so he ends up dragged to the clinic. Kuroo was passing by the clinic and you ran up to him telling him how Kenma is sick. When you left, Kuroo is cackling, unaware that he’s about to be murdered.

Hinata Shoyo

Too excited, jumped at you, ended up doing the two arms and two legs kabedon. He screamed in embarrassment. “GWAAHH!” You screamed in fear. “HWAAAAH?!” Tsukishima’s busy wheezing on the floor. Kageyama, supposedly to the rescue, run straight to you guys to pry Hinata off but only succeeded in scaring you even further. You bolted, now traumatized of the volleyball gym.

Kageyama Tobio

Unwisely followed his team’s advice so now he has you trapped against the wall as you wonder if this will be your last moments before you die in the hands of an intimidating, stuttering volleyball team player. Hinata tried to pull him out of it (seeing you’re also about to bail) by serving a ball to the back to his head. Kageyama bolts off after Hinata. You wonder what happened.

Nishinoya Yuu

Did it confidently, but was too awestruck by your face to speak. Realizes how close he is to your face…and your breasts. Definitely flicked his eyes down before staring determinedly in your eyes. His hand, sweaty from nerves, slips and he’s about to fall into the valley of your breast (his brain doing the slow motion, frame by frame) but your hand is quicker and you slap him. Wore the handprint on his face as a badge of honor.

Tsukishima Kei

Did it in his typical tsundere fashion (with a matching “Tch”) that it scared you. Before he can even speak, you were bowing apologetically offering his class notes back with a matching “I promise never to borrow your notes ever again.” Took the notebook to play it cool even if he was dying inside. Yamaguchi had to eat his fist to not laugh out loud. “Shut it, Yamaguchi!” “Sorry, Tsukki!”

Oikawa Tooru

Did it so suavely and smooth, you were actually impressed. Matched it by leaning on his elbow as he runs his fingers through his hair. Your eyes locked on the mosquito landing on his cheek. A loud slap. Cue Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki’s laughter and wheezing heard from around the corner. You stand there frozen about to apologize. But the four just pats you on the back, “Great slap!” “Good one!” Oikawa whines.

Iwaizumu Hajime

Did it because…shoujo manga tropes work, right? (No, Hajime.) You stare at him, feeling slightly intimidated but you stand your ground. He stares back. …He didn’t think he’d make it this far, he didn’t actually think or rehearse what he wanted to say. After an awkward five full minutes of just staring at each other, he puts his arm down. You nod at each other and both walk away. Was there a bond formed? No one knows.

Kyoutani Kentarou

Did it for the same misguided reasons as Iwaizumi. He was definitely growling when he did it. You were super intimidated but kept a brave face on. Remembering his “Mad Dog” reputation, you shouted in alarm, “Heel!” It worked. Kyoutani immediately drops his arm and stopped growling. Oikawa’s now asking you for tips. Iwaizumi nods approvingly. Yahaba is amazed. Kyoutani facepalms when he remembers what happened.

Terushima Yuuji

So used to the art of kabedon, that he can do it effortlessly and smoothly. Unfortunately for him, you’re also used to his antics and playboy reputation. Before he can even lean in, your palm was already on its way to uppercut his face away from you. You walk away and he just sighs longingly, looking at your form. Damn, you look good when you walk away.

The Winner: Ushijima Wakatoshi

Huge, hulking man towering over you as he traps you against the wall. You stutter out asking what he wants. He replies, “I wanted to confess my interest in you and have been informed this is the proper way to do it. Would you like to go out with me?” Of course you say yes. Of course you should tell him that’s not the proper way to do it. Tendou is 2000 Yen richer after that day.

Bonus Winner: Kita Shinsuke

Asks you to meet him in an isolated location after school. Confesses to you like a proper guy, politely asking if you’d be interested in trying out dates with him. Of course you say yes. Of course you schedule your first date and he promised to walk you home that day. Aran, being the supportive wingman, was watching around the corner and told the twins afterwards. The two idiots went, “Ooooohhhh.”

Bonus Winner: Bokuto Koutarou

Forgot he was supposed to kabedon you. Came running at you in full speed, you fucking bolted off your seat in fear. Ended up in a chase around the school building, but you can’t match his stamina. When you stop and wheeze, he stopped right in front of you.“I LIKE YOU. PLEASE GO OUT WITH ME!” You stared at him for a full minute, you’re brain trying to process as you gasp for air. You say yes when your lungs agree with you again.

sunarin + hiding their face in the other's neck 🙇‍♀️

you told him you didn't want to watch this movie. "but it'll be fine," he said. "you know it's fake blood, don't you?"

fake blood or not, the movie's 'killer' hopping out of the shadows was enough for you to hug rintaro against your chest, torso fully turned toward him instead of the tv. you clenched your jaw, heart racing, as you curled into his chest which, suspiciously...

"were you waiting for me to get scared?" you gasp.

you earned yourself a side-eye from your boyfriend. the very same boyfriend whose arm wrapped around you the second you shuffled closer, who rolled his shoulders until you leaned your head against him.

guilty is what that looks like to you, and his unwillingness to admit it convinces you.

"you were," you pressed, jabbing him in the side with your elbow. "you're so mean; scaring me just so i'd cuddle you."

"you're missing the movie," he complains half-heartedly, but he's already turning toward you to poke your nose. "and you're not that scared."

"i'm plenty scared."

"yeah? prove it then."

as if on queue, a character in the movie screams and you gasp again; this time, it's not to tease rintaro, but because your stomach jumps into your throat and you jump into your boyfriend's lap.

breathlessly, you swat at him. he dodges, because of course he does. "you planned this."

with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, now, rintaro buries his face in your neck, and you feel a smile against your skin. "yes i did."

send an ask with a number from this list + a hq character and i’ll write a snippet!

WAIT I KNOW WE ALL LOVE GIRL DAD SUNA…… but imagine suna with a little boy 😞😞😞 little suna that shares everything with his dad….. from the same eyes to personality 😞😞 you come home from work one day and the two are just sprawled on the couch watching recordings of volleyball games with the same deadpan expression while suki runs around in her little tutu and tiara offering them tea LOL 😞😞 THEY HAVE THE SAME POUTY EXPRESSION WHEN THEY FIGHT FOR CUDDLES FROM YOU !!!

please suna with a little boy who looks and acts exactly like him. who was probably the quietest baby ever and is probably the opposite of his sister. who people often see napping on your shoulder during late night, post-game interviews. who, like his father, you'll come home to find watching paw patrol while wearing a spare tutu and sipping apple juice out of a teacup bcs he can't say no to his big sister's shenanigans.

and if suki is a daddy's girl, then this one is a mama's boy for sure. the one who crawls into your bed and squishes himself between the both of you in the middle of the night, stepping on rin's face in the process. who rin has definitely given the side eye for taking up all the cuddle time while suki is at school (and gets the side eye right back)

so I got into grad school today with my shitty 2.8 gpa and the moral of the story is reblog those good luck posts for the love of god

heart eyes.

Ramen

sending so much love to everyone who feels like they’re never chosen as the best friend, as the partner, as the favorite. sending love to all of you who have been treated and felt like second best. sending love to all of you who have felt rejected and unwanted. to all of you who have had to try really hard to fit in because you felt like you never will. 

you are so loved. you will be seen and heard by the right people. you can trust that you are valuable and not defined by other people’s perceptions of you. if someone doesn’t see your worth, it doesn’t mean it isn’t there.

hi!! for the scenarios, kuroo+baby’s first word? <33

the second kuroo bursts into your bedroom with your one-year-old son in his arms, you know you've won.

"you cheated!" he accuses with a pointed finger.

you place the last of your laundry into your shared closet and close the door. picking up the empty basket, you give him a pointed look as you walk past him. "i don't know what you're talking about."

"cheater!" he cries, following you to the laundry area.

"still no clue," you say, setting down the basket and turning.

kuroo trails you all this while, all 189 cm irately bobbing around your house. "you taught him to say mama."

you try not to laugh, and attempt to school your expression as you sit down on your couch, looking up at him. "i did not."

tetsurō peers at your face with squinting eyes, and you can’t help the way the corner of your mouth twitches. he explodes. "you're smiling! i knew it!"

your son blinks, looking from his father to you, and he smiles. extending his arms, he reaches for you. "mama!"

"see?!" your husband wails, and you stand up briefly to take your son before sitting back down. "that's against the rules!"

"what rules?" you say with a roll of your eyes, unable to help your smile any longer, allowing your son to play with your hair. "english wasn't off the table when we had our bet about what word he'd say first."

"it was either okaa-san or otō-san and you know it!" kuroo snaps, cutely stomping to the armchair and sitting down, crossing his arms and pouting. 

you supress a laugh at his touchiness, but nudge your son. “baby, where’s papa?”

his eyes blink up at you, then he points at your husband. tetsurō kuroo glares at the chubby little hand of his traitorous son.

“go give papa a hug,” you say, setting him down. he takes wide steps before giving up and speed crawling to his father. 

despite kuroo’s pout, he bends over to pick up his son. 

“you can always try again with baby number two,” you remind him.

“yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, leaning back so your son can settle on his chest. “you’re lucky i love you."

you chuckle. “hey, baby,” you call to your son, and the boy looks back at you, his hands on the collar of your husband’s shirt. you see the affection that opens up on tetsurō’s face when he looks at his child, and it makes your heart twinge. “say papa.”

your son doesn’t falter, offering you a smile. “mama!”