Iwa Pretends Not To Care About Valentine's Day, Telling Shittykawa That NO HES NOT JEALOUS OF THE MOUNTAIN

SECRET LANGUAGE!

synopsis: you and katsuki have a.. special way of communicating.

a/n: i genuinely do the whole 'not say anything js whine and groan until someone gets it' thing and sometimes ppl are confused but i feel like childhood friends + unofficial bf katsuki would just get it

"man, that was so tiring!" kirishima said, collapsing on a common area couch.

"all might sure worked us hard.." ochako added, exhaustion evident in her voice.

the rest of the class all nodded their heads in agreement, too exhausted to talk properly as they all slumped on the couches.

the room fell into a brief silence as everyone took a moment to relax and unwind after the grueling training. after a few minutes, the chatter started up again. they discussed the latest training exercises and something about all might and pro heroes and the possibility of starting a hero agency but honestly, you weren’t really listening. you were exhausted, too worn out to focus or engage properly with the conversation. you sat there silently, sort of just spacing out.

you were snapped out of your trance by a nudge to your shoulder. glancing up, it was katsuki looking down at you, a smidge of concern in his eyes.

"you ok?" he asked in a rare moment of quietness, his voice low and gravelly. "you've been out of it for a while now."

you took a second before you groaned, pushing your head into his shoulder, too tired for words. he made a ghost of a snicker at your antics, smiling down at you gently. (he denies denies denies tho)

"nnnnnghhh. mmmmmm!" you whined.

"i know, i know." he muttered.

"uuuurghhhhh, euuuuhm!"

"you wanna go back to your dorm and take a nap if it's that bad?"

"m. mmmmmmm! ...mmm?"

"hell no! i'm tired, too, and i'm not walkin' all the way to the damn convenience store."

you looked up at him, exhaustion and pleading in your eyes.

he looked back at you.

you kept on looking at him.

he kept on looking at you.

you shoved your head into his neck and nuzzled a bit, silently pleading with him.

finally, he sighed, getting up and rolling his eyes. you squealed in excitement, clapping your hands excitedly. he used one arm to swoop you up and trudged out of the common area with you, muttering about how were "such a damn pain" and "so fuckin' lazy." of course, he would never have it any other way, though. not that he'd ever admit that.

bonus:

unbeknownst to the two of you, as you were in your own little world, but mina had gotten a clip of the confusing but cute interaction, and sent it to the whole 1a groupchat.

kirishima: NO WAY

kaminari: BAKUGO?!?!?!?!?! BEFORE ME?!?!?! 🥲🥲🥲😫😫😫😫😫💔💔💔💔💔

todoroki: I'm confused. What is she saying? What just happened?

...

jirou: idk

momo: it's certainly a mystery

midoriya: kacchan and y/n have always talked like that! it's like a secret language!

sero: i think 'talking' requires back and forth conversation..

mina: WHO CARES? it's cute!

masterlist

Pregnancy: Iwaizumi

The second the double doors of the weight room open, it’s like you’ve stepped into a different universe—a world of metal clanks, low grunts, chalk-dusted air, and the constant thud of iron plates hitting the floor. And now, slicing clean through that rhythmic storm of testosterone and hyper-focus, is you: very pregnant, slightly annoyed, and holding the wallet your husband managed to leave behind on the kitchen counter this morning. You didn’t think twice about walking the ten minutes over from your place. It’s not like you hiked a mountain—you waddled across pavement in sneakers. But by the way the entire Olympic volleyball team turns toward you in unison, you might as well be carrying a live grenade instead of a baby.

“WOAHHH—LOOK OUT! Civilian on the floor!” Bokuto’s voice booms across the room, sweaty hair sticking up, arms mid-air like you’d broken the rules of gravity just by showing up.

Atsumu, flat on a bench press with Kageyama spotting him, twists his head far too dramatically toward you and lets out a long, low whistle. “Ain’t no civilian, Bo. That’s Iwaizumi’s wife. And she’s lookin’ like she’s about to drop that baby right here in front of the dumbbells.”

You don’t even get the chance to sigh before you spot him—Hajime, towel around his neck, clipboard tucked under one arm, halfway through barking cues at someone doing squats. His head snaps toward you the second he hears Bokuto’s yell, and his entire body goes rigid. The clipboard hits the bench with a clatter. The towel is forgotten. His mouth moves, but there’s no time for words—he’s already weaving through machines and teammates, practically charging toward you like the floor itself might crumble under your feet.

“You walked here? Alone?” he demands as soon as he’s within a few feet, eyes scanning you from head to toe like he’s checking for bruises.

“I’m not made of paper, Hajime. I walked from the apartment. Not across a battlefield.” You hold the wallet up between two fingers, giving him a pointed look. “You left this on the counter, by the way.”

He takes it, but barely spares it a glance. His attention is completely on you—his wife, his very-pregnant-wife, standing in the middle of the Olympic team’s weight room surrounded by free weights, kettlebells, unstable mats, and volleyball players who think balance training on BOSU balls is a personality trait.

“This place isn’t safe for you,” he mutters under his breath, eyes narrowing at a barbell someone just let crash onto the floor nearby. “You shouldn’t be around this equipment. There’s too many ways you could trip, or get knocked, or—hell—slip on a chalk patch.”

You raise your eyebrows and gesture around you. “I am standing still, Hajime. On flat ground. Wearing shoes. Holding a wallet. This is not a life-threatening activity.”

His lips flatten into a tight line. “You’re thirty-eight weeks. You should be sitting, preferably somewhere padded, with a bottle of water and a snack within reach.”

You blink. “Are you reading off a checklist right now?”

He doesn’t answer.

At that moment, Komori jogs up with his usual bounce, sweat still gleaming on his forehead and a towel slung haphazardly over his shoulder. “Wait—this is your wife? The one we keep hearing about?”

“He doesn’t talk about her,” Kiryu calls from the dumbbell rack, not even bothering to look up. “He says stuff like ‘my wife made soup’ and ‘my wife needs pickles.’ That’s it. That’s all we get.”

You offer a small, amused smile and rest both hands on your stomach. “Hi. Yes. I’m Soup-and-Pickles. Thirty-eight weeks along. Full of baby. And apparently one bad step away from being put in a medically induced nap.”

There’s a chorus of laughter, though it’s mixed with soft whistles of awe as more of the team gravitates toward you. Aran strolls over with a light smile, while Hinata’s practically vibrating behind him.

“You really came all the way here?” Aran asks.

“It’s ten minutes from home,” you reply, shooting a glance up at your husband who still looks like he’s trying to map the safest escape route out of the gym for you. “I’m pregnant, not cursed.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Iwaizumi mutters. “You’re standing next to iron weights in Converse. That’s a hostile environment.”

You roll your eyes, adjusting the strap on your bag. “They’re high-tops. Extra support.”

Before he can scold you further, Hinata suddenly leans forward with stars in his eyes. “Is the baby kicking?”

“Oh yeah,” you nod, hand moving instinctively to the right side of your belly. “She’s training for nationals, I think. My ribs are her new personal practice net.”

“Can I feel?” Komori blurts out, his expression open and hopeful.

You’re about to say yes, but Hajime moves before you can answer, shifting his stance ever so slightly to put his body between you and Komori with the quiet intensity of a dad who’s already protective before the baby’s even born.

“She’s not a mascot,” he says flatly.

You place your palm on his chest. “Hajime. It’s fine.”

His eyes flicker to yours. He relents with a small sigh, stepping aside like it physically pains him to do so.

Komori gently places his hand on your stomach, and when the baby kicks, his face lights up like someone handed him a puppy. “Oh my god. That’s incredible.”

Kageyama peers over curiously. “Does it feel weird?”

“Like an alien living under your skin,” you say cheerfully. “And sometimes the alien cries when you don’t feed it grilled cheese at exactly 3 a.m.”

“Sounds terrifying,” Sakusa mumbles nearby, adjusting a band on his wrist.

“Iwaizumi,” Yaku calls from where he’s doing banded lunges, “you better give that kid rock-solid calves. I don’t care how. It’s your duty.”

“Oh, we’re starting this already?” you laugh. “Pressure before she’s even out of the womb?”

“Oh, we’ve been taking bets,” Suna says, finally looking up from his phone with the laziest smile. “Due date, hair color, position they’ll play.”

“Definitely not libero,” Bokuto adds, puffing his chest. “That baby’s got outside hitter energy.”

“I swear to god,” Iwaizumi mutters, dragging a hand down his face.

You press a soft kiss to his jaw and whisper just loud enough for him to hear, “You love it.”

He doesn’t answer. Just wraps one arm around your shoulders, pulling you gently into his side, hand resting low and protective on the curve of your stomach. He kisses the top of your head. Quiet. Steady.

You nudge him lightly and lift a brow. “Still mad I walked into the weight room?”

He looks down at you, expression flat. “I am always mad when you walk into a room with flying metal plates and men with the coordination of blindfolded rhinos.”

“I brought you your wallet.”

“And almost gave me a stroke in the process.”

You grin, dig into his pocket, and pull out one of his protein bars. “And I’m stealing your snack.”

“…Unbelievable.”

I have just realized that...

So yeah, if I were him..

..it would be exciting for me as well.

"It's just a TV show" maybe to you. I absorbed it into my soul though.

Navigation : midnight records! the starlight EP! haikyuu EP!

── .✦ "IWAIZUMI HAJIME VS. WEDDING" — iwaizumi hajime

a/n : sorry for being inactive!! finally found motivation to write for haikyuu content : post timeskip. iwa crashing out. pre wedding. he’s so in love. seijoh 4. fluff. crack.

Iwaizumi Hajime doesn’t spiral.

He doesn’t pace. Doesn’t panic. Doesn’t start talking just to fill space. He’s the one people lean on. The level-headed one during a crisis.

Which is exactly why the Seijoh 4 are now watching him like he’s a science experiment gone wrong. The groom’s waiting room is too quiet. Tense. The kind of quiet that happens before someone snaps.

Oikawa, back from Argentina just for the wedding, sips sparkling water with the smugness of someone who saw this coming. Matsukawa is filming. Hanamaki looks both entertained and slightly afraid.

And our dear Iwaizumi paces. Mutters something to himself. Then—without warning—drops to the floor and starts doing push-ups in his suit.

Everyone stares.

"Everybody stay calm, he’s spiraling,” Matsukawa says.

“He doesn’t spiral,” Hanamaki replies, blinking. “I’ve never seen him spiral. This feels illegal.”

“I once saw Iwa-chan roll his ankle and tell me to breathe,” Oikawa says, horrified. “This is terrifying.”

“I’m not spiraling,” Iwaizumi mutters, chest nearly kissing the floor. “I’m keeping my heart rate in check.”

Push-up. Push-up. Push-up

“I’m grounding myself. This is tactical. I am not emotionally compromised.”

Push-up.

“She’s gonna look like a goddess and I’m gonna forget how to breathe.”

“What was that?” Oikawa asks.

“I said I’m fine, Shittykawa.” Oikawa blinks. “You haven’t called me that since we were 18. Oh god, he’s malfunctioning.”

Iwaizumi keeps going. “She’s gonna smile. At me. In front of everyone. And I’m gonna cry. I know I’m gonna cry. I can already feel it. It’s sitting right here—” he gestures to his throat, “like a threat.”

He stops and lays flat on the floor. The silence is deafening. “I’ve never seen him like this,” Hanamaki whispers.

“He cried when she said yes, didn’t he?” Matsukawa murmurs. “This is stage two.”

“I didn’t cry,” Iwaizumi says flatly. “I teared up. Briefly.”

“You FaceTimed me,” Oikawa adds. “There were tissues involved.”

“I was sick.”

”You were sniffling,” Oikawa corrects.

“It was February.”

Iwaizumi sits up slowly. “She’s gonna be in a dress. With her hair done. And makeup. She’s gonna walk toward me like she means it and I’m gonna stand there looking like I forgot how knees work. And then I’ll cry. And then she’ll cry. And I’ll ruin everything.”

Oikawa kneels and hands him a water bottle like it’s an offering to a storm god. “You’re in love. That’s not ruining anything.”

“I’m so in love,” Iwaizumi whispers, like a confession. “It’s making me physically ill.”

Hanamaki just nods. “That tracks. We’ve been waiting years for your emotional constipation to catch up.”

“Push-ups aren’t fixing it,” Matsukawa adds. “Try burpees.”

“I will throw up on your shoes.”

There was a knock on the door: “Five minutes.”

Iwaizumi stands. Adjusts his suit. Rolls his shoulders like he’s heading into combat. “I’m marrying my girl. My terrifying, gorgeous, brilliant girl.”

He turns to them, solemn.

“If I cry—don’t say anything.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Hanamaki says.

“If I pass out—don’t catch me.”

“You’re gonna cry in, like, thirty seconds,” Matsukawa grins. “But you’re gonna look shredded in the photos.”

“I better.”

2025 © NANASRKIVES. / do not copy, repost, edit, plagiarize, or translate any of my works on any platforms, including ai.

TAGLIST (OPEN). / @ayatakanosstuff @angelkiyo @honeycrispappletree @itsmeaudrieee

katsuki bakugo and the double standard

you, mina, and kyoko were talking in your bedroom before the two of you invited denki and eijiro over. you and the girls made matching bracelets together, incorporating each other's eye colors into them, with your first initial in the middle. as all of you laughed together and talked about drama, then a show that was creating a new season, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of emptiness.

the only one that was missing was your boyfriend, katsuki.

you sighed as you stared at the red beads, rolling one in between your fingers, reminding you of the color of his crimson eyes. you spaced out, mind focused on your boyfriend, and you didn’t even realize what the topic of the conversation shifted to until denki tapped your shoulder.

“hey, are you okay? i think you zoned out.”

mina smirked, “i know. she’s thinking of bakugo! you love him so much, don’t you?” she bumped your shoulder with hers and smiled at you with her eyes squinted.

you rolled your eyes and shyly smiled, averting your eyes. eijiro then brought up with a grin, “hey, you know how bakugo always seems so angry around us but not around you?” he stared at you, but you grinned, unaware of what was to happen, “we were thinking of testing that theory out. i’ll ask him if he can get me something from the record shop near campus, we’ll see how he reacts, then you can ask him to get you something from that cafe nearby!”

sounded good to you! maybe it would be funny to see his reaction change from eijiro’s request to yours.

you nodded, and the whole group cheered. the redhead then took out his phone and you all huddled around him, curious as to what was to happen. he called katsuki four times before the blonde finally picked up.

katsuki sighed, “what.” eijiro frowned with his eyes widened, and looked around at all of you. you tried to stifle your giggles at his reaction by covering your mouth.

eijiro asked, “hey man, do you mind getting me some stuff from the record shop nearby? i already ordered everything, you’d just need to pick it up—“

“no! get off your ass and get it yourself!” he yelled, causing his best friend to nearly drop the device in shock. katsuki then hung up.

all of the group was silent for a couple of seconds before you all burst into laughter. denki was tearing up and mina could hardly breathe even as she held onto her stomach for dear life.

about half an hour later, you decided to call katsuki, and he picked up within a few seconds. eijiro’s jaw dropped. he was astonished by how much he had to wait for a response, but how quickly his best friend answered you, his girl.

“hey,” katsuki greeted. he sounded not displeased nor pleased, so you were confused. little did you know, he paused everything just to lay on his bed and listen to your voice.

“hey kats! could you get me some sweets from the cafe i like? please?”

he paused, “fine. do you want the usual?” he tried to sound irritated but failed miserably.

you giggled and nodded, forgetting he couldn’t hear you. you replied, “yes, please, kats! thank you!”

he mumbled, “shut up,” and blushed. ruffling sounds were audible from his side of the call, and you could tell he was standing up from his bed to walk out of his dorm.

you exclaimed, “when you have all the sweets, come to my dorm! love you, blondie!”

he softly mumbled it back to the point where it was nearly inaudible, and you were the only one who could hear it. after half an hour passed, a knock was heard on your door, and the chatter stopped. you hurriedly rushed to open the door with a smile on your face.

the blonde carried a large bag with multiple containers of sweets, even some that you didn’t recognize. he bought you extras? god, he was all you could ever ask for. the perfect man.

“oh, yay! you’re the best, kats!” you propped your hands on his wide shoulders and kissed his cheek, earning a smile from him.

when you invited your boyfriend in and he saw the group you were hanging out with, denki gasped, “hey! why did you get her stuff but not—”

“shut up!” katsuki immediately retorted, not letting him finish.

he took your favorite cake out of the bag and handed it to you, along with a fork and a napkin. you squealed, jumped, and spun around in a circle. you pulled him down to sit with you on the ground, in the circle with your friends.

as you ate the cake, you scooted closer to your boyfriend. suddenly, you heard stifled, deep chuckles from someone next to you. you tilted your head at katsuki, whose eyes were finally squinted due to giving you a real smile.

he brought his finger up to your cheek and wiped something off your cheek, supposedly frosting.

kyoko quickly reacted, “never would’ve expected you to be the sap, bakugo.”

katsuki grumbled again and rolled his eyes, “shut up—“

“you’ve said that like, four times already.” eijiro replied, wanting to frustrate his best friend more.

katsuki continued to mutter curses under his breath, and the conversation continued without the both of you two. you smiled at his rather hard expression, then suddenly rubbed his bicep with your hand. his eyes turned towards yours, and as soon as they did, you were about to kiss his cheek, when he turned his head at the right time so you would finally kiss him on the lips.

you giggled. since when was katsuki so proud of being so flirty in public? you knew he didn’t care much for physical touch in front of others, so you were fairly confused. however, you weren’t complaining.

“aww, you just love your girl so much, don’t you?” eijiro ruined the moment.

“yeah, i do, so shut the hell up!”

not proofread, hope u guys like this one!

𐙚 ⋮ᴀᴄᴛ ɪ ꒱ ‧₊˚

⋮ ♯; ⤷ KATSUKI BAKUGO headcanons .ᐟ

⋆˚࿔ what would he be like as your boyfriend?

⊱ ────── {⋆❉⋆} ────── ⊰

⌗ he won’t admit it, but he always keeps an eye on you. if he thinks someone is bothering you, his first instinct is to throw hands, but he reins it in (most of the time) ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ this man is ride or die for you. the second he’s in a relationship, you’re his and he’s yours—no one else exists in his mind ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ he’s not the biggest fan of PDA, but in private? he’s all over you. loves holding you in a way that makes you feel his warmth, whether it’s spooning you from behind or resting a hand on your waist absentmindedly ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ he’s a doer. if you’re feeling down, he’ll yell at you to take care of yourself, but when you’re genuinely sick and he can’t just fix it? he gets frustrated and sulky, pacing around the room while forcing you to drink water like it’s a life-or-death situation. he’ll even let you rest your head on his lap while pretending he totally doesn’t enjoy it ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ before dating, he never thought much about sleep. but after? if you’re not in bed with him, he tosses and turns all night. if he’s away on missions, he hates it because no matter how exhausted he is, sleep just doesn’t hit the same. if you ever find out, he will deny it to his grave ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ he doesn’t go for the usual “words of affirmation” or “acts of service.” instead, his love language is teaching you things. whether it’s self-defense, cooking, or fixing something, if he’s taking the time to teach you his skills, it means he trusts you enough to know what he knows ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ you could be doing the most mundane thing—reading, scrolling on your phone, folding laundry—and he’ll just watch you without realizing it. if you catch him, he’ll grumble and look away, but he was totally zoning out admiring you ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ you wouldn’t expect it, but one day, you’re struggling with a messy ponytail, and he just sighs and fixes it perfectly. turns out, he used to help his mom tie up her hair when he was a kid. he still acts like it’s no big deal, but if you ask him to do it again, he secretly loves it ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ his hands are constantly moving—tapping on the table, against his leg, drumming on random surfaces. but if he’s thinking about you specifically, his fingers will start mimicking the rhythm of your heartbeat (which he totally memorized without realizing) ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ he notices the tiny things. the way you always stretch before standing up, how you hum before you fall asleep, the specific way you take your coffee. if you ever forget something in your routine, he’ll absentmindedly remind you before realizing damn, I really memorized that, huh? ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ that dumb doodle you left on his notes? tucked in his wallet. the random trinket you gave him from a vending machine? sitting on his nightstand. he acts like he doesn’t care, but he never throws away anything that reminds him of you ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ it doesn’t matter if you can lift a building, he is carrying the groceries, the luggage, and anything remotely heavy. you could be a pro hero, and he’d still be like, “shut up and let me do it.” ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ mitsuki loves you, but she also loves embarrassing her son. she’ll tease him about how whipped he is, telling you embarrassing childhood stories while bakugo fumes in the background. secretly, he’s glad she likes you, but he’ll never say it out loud ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ everyone knows bakugo laughs in that aggressive, cocky way. but when he’s with you? sometimes, he lets out a real, genuine, soft laugh that no one else gets to hear. if you ever mention it, he’ll turn bright red and tell you to shut up ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ who can fold laundry faster? who can chop vegetables better? who can get into bed first? he turns everything into a competition, and if you beat him? he’ll sulk for five minutes before demanding a rematch ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⌗ he won’t gush about you outright, but if you do something impressive? his friends will hear about it. “yeah, so what if they did that? they’re badass. of course they pulled it off.” he plays it cool, but everyone knows he’s beyond proud of you. if anyone even slightly doubts your abilities, he’ll shut them down instantly ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

— katsuki bakugou ⋮ 03 / 16 / 25. ❝ 𝓗𝑨𝑷𝑷𝒀 𝓑𝑰𝑹𝑻𝑯𝑫𝑨𝒀 ❞

content warnings ⨾ soft!pro-hero!katsuki bakugou. happy (early) birthday katsuki !! profanity. bad days. kirishima mentioned. gn!reader - no pronouns, but reader is wearing a dress. not proof-read. word count ⨾ .6K ❪ 619 ❫

“you look pretty. gettin’ all dressed up for something?”

you meet katsuki’s eyes in the mirror. he stands in the doorway, leaned against the door frame with a smile on his face. your eyes drift and you realize he’s still wearing his costume. with furrowed brows, you turn to him and tilt your head. “katsuki,” you whine, throwing your hands into your lap. “you’re still in your gross hero stuff. we’re supposed to leave in twenty minutes! how are you meant to shower and do your hair and find an outfit and-“

he makes it to where you’re sitting in two and a half strides, his boots leaving mud tracks as he walks through the bedroom. he cuts you off with a chaste kiss, his gloves rough against your otherwise soft face. he leans back and smiles softly. “i’ll be quick, don’t worry. we’ll make it on time, baby.” when you pout, he laughs. “just wanted to see you for a sec. had a shitty day.”

your brows unfurl and you frown. “poor baby,” you coo, cupping his cheek, disregarding the ash smudged on his face. “do you want to talk about it? i can reschedule the dinner for a later reservation.”

“nah.” he shakes his head, but sighs and sits down on the edge of the bed. you bite your tongue, reminding yourself that you can just wash the sheets later rather than berate him about it now. “just a lot of running around. shittyhair got thrown into a fucking building.” he laughs and drags a hand down his face. “so much for a happy birthday right?”

“i told you you should’ve taken the day off,” you sigh out, raising your brows and turning back to the mirror.

“criminals don’t take days off.” it’s quiet, a stark contrast to his usual intensity. you look at him through the mirror and bite the inside of your cheek. he looks so . . . defeated.

“katsuki,” you mumble, turning back around with another frown. you stand and walk over to him, standing in between his legs. “we don’t have to go tonight. we can stay in and watch a movie. it’s your birthday, y’know. we can go out some other time.”

he looks up at you and sighs. you take this time to look at him—really look at him. his boyish features from high school are long gone; chubby cheeks replaced by a sharp jawline, eyebags replaced by crows feet, the same freckles scattered across his cheeks.

he wraps his arms around you in a hug and presses his face into your stomach. you don’t mention how he bought you this dress and how the ash is most definitely going to stain it.

“you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he mumbles into the fabric, pressing into you harder. you feel your expression soften and you put your arms around his shoulders, squeezing three times—a special way to say i love you. “i don’t know what i would be without you.”

“you’d still be an amazing pro,” you say softly. “maybe a little lost—a little skinny, too.” he laughs and you smile. “but still an amazing, hardworking, kind, determined, helpful, loving pro-hero.”

he hums and for a long moment—maybe five minutes—you two stay like that, silent. the only noise is the AC running through the vents, and the washing machine. eventually, he leans back, keeping his hands on your hips.

“i love you.” he doesn’t say it often, choosing to express it in other ways, but when he does, it’s the best part of your day.

you lean down to press your lips against his, soft and full of meaning. “i love you too, kats. more than you will ever know.”

papa?

picking up your husband iwaizumi hajime after his days work at the gym is over with your baby wrapped up on your chest. something had gone wrong with his car, resulting in it currently at the repair shop being fixed. this left you and your one year old son in charge of pick up duty. you slide open the door and step into the vast gymnasium of japan’s national men’s volleyball team, greeted with the sound of shoes squeaking on freshly polished hardwood floor and the smack of volleyballs being spiked over the net. sitting on a bench off to the side of the court is hajime, writing some type of report in a notebook with a focused expression. you walk along the sidelines to him, holding your baby’s head to shield him from any unsuspected volleyballs that may fly your way.

hajime only looks up from his work as you seat yourself next to him, typical. he’s always so focused and invested in his job. only during his work hours is he like this, though—he always makes time for his two favorite people.

hajime smiles at you and places a kiss to your temple in greeting, putting his notebook and pen off to the side before shifting in his seat to face you more directly. “hey. didn’t realize you were here.”

“must’ve lost track of time again, right?”

“as usual,” he admits a bit sheepishly, “i really need to finish filling out this sheet of supply orders for next month.”

“hmph. you have that nice smart watch but you hardly ever pay attention to when you need to clock out of work,” you gesture to the sleek black band on his wrist as you speak.

“sorry, love i—” his words are cut off by the babbling of your son, who’s stubby arms are reaching for his papa. he looks up at his dad with wide and admiring eyes, dawning the same tan skin as his father and the same deep brown color in his wispy head of hair and irises. there’s not a doubt in sight that he’s hajime’s child; he’s practically the spitting image of him.

you two can’t help but chuckle at his efforts to cling to his dad, his movements restricted by the wrap holding him close against your chest. “you wanna give papa a hug?” you coo.

the restraint doesn’t give in, and your son looks up at you with an adorably frustrated face of confusion and surprise at the spectacle. “you can’t get anywhere in this wrap, huh?” you say as you gently pull him out of the restraint, handing him off to hajime.

once your son is in hajime’s arms, it’s within an instant that he wraps his small and chubby arms around his neck. hajime holds him securely against his chest, an affectionate laugh escaping his lips at the way his baby boy looks up at him with such adoring eyes. “looks like you really missed your papa,” hajime says fondly before placing a peck to the top of his delicate head. at this, your baby giggles loudly and begins to blabber incoherent sentences, ones that hajime pretends to understand nonetheless.

“you know, once we got here, he kept asking me ‘papa?’ the whole walk from the parking lot to the entrance. i guess he recognizes this place pretty well now.”

“oh, really?” at your words he peppers kisses all along your son’s chubby cheeks, “papa missed you too. so, so much.”

and it’s not without your son first being showered with praise and love from the team that the three of you leave to go home, praise that your baby accepts with innocent giggles and lots of squirming—all from the comfort of his papa’s warm embrace. undoubtedly his favorite place to be.

masterlist | taglist | tags: @scoupsworld @amaliaaliena @mires765

a/n: iwaizumi is such a good boy dad. a little self indulgent bcs i have big baby fever.

© evamame 2025. all rights reserved. please do not repost, modify, steal, plagiarize, or translate my work.

katsuki is the type of boyfriend to have his hand on you in some sort of way. it doesn’t matter where you are or what you’re doing— you’ll feel his warm and calloused hand on your lower back standing beside each other or on your knee absentmindedly tracing shapes as he uses his phone. sometimes you’ll feel him lightly massaging your upper back since he knows how tense you can get. (“shit— why didn’t you tell me?” he’d mutter mutter pressing his fingers.)

katsuki is the type of boyfriend who notices and knows everything about you. yes he did take note that you didn’t kiss him to greet him. yes he knows your comfort meal and cooks it for you without asking. yes he knows you only know how to tie your shoes the bunny ear method.

katsuki is the type of boyfriend to simultaneously be your best friend. he gives you that sassy look when he knows you both are thinking the same thing and judging someone’s annoying behavior. the type to have stupid inside jokes with you and fail to hide the dimples on his face whenever he is reminded of so. he will take your side in an argument.

katsuki is the type of boyfriend to have zero shame when it comes to you and being in a relationship with you. he only retorts (albeit poorly. because he is hopeless) back whenever someone like denki or mina comment about his lockscreen being a picture of you or his bag has a beaded charm dangling from it that you made for him. he’d probably just mention how they’re the one still single. “at least I have a relationship dumbass”

katsuki is the type of boyfriend who subtly flexes when he notices you watching him when he’s training or exercising. he takes full pride and advantage of it. he’ll shoot you a dumb grin when you’re looking and be like “what’re you being all weird for…”. also, you know that meme where it’s like “when he’s copying your snap so I pull this” and they send a picture of a flexed bicep? that’s what I think of with him. hehehe.

katsuki is the type of boyfriend to be the “let me do it” kind of guy. except it comes off painfully judgmental... in an endearing way. when you’re cozy in bed but complain because you forgot to grab your water— he’ll put an arm over you before you can get up and he’ll do it himself. he practically glares at you if you try bringing your card out to pay. he makes sure to open doors for you and always walk on the side of the sidewalk closest to traffic.