Aoba Johsai - Blog Posts

Seijoh 4!!

To the two people who wanted to see Makki and Mattsun in my style (I genuinely didn't know what to draw for them) so I hope this is fine LMAO

I've been loving this format so here's more of it!

I was originally thinking of doing seijoh 4 for this but I didn't know what pose to give makki and mattsun 😭

Favourite Haikyuu!! Character From Each Team

Karasuno: Tadashi Yamaguchi

Aoba Johsai: Hajime Iwaizumi

Nekoma: Morisuke Yaku

Fukurodani: Keiji Akaashi

Shiratorizawa: Satori Tendou

Inarizaki: Rintaro Suna

Reblog with your favourites!

Hajime Iwazumi - Sims 4

full outfits

ask for cc and ill post!

Tooru Oikawa - Sims 4

full outfits

ask for cc and ill post!

hot weather outfit is based off of loony's art hehe

Ahh some uh Kyotani fanart since I barely ever see it and head canon

Sorry if this is inaccurate I’ve never worn trans tape before wanna but uh don’t wanna out myself haha

how the great oikawa-san's visit to tokyo to meet kuroo-chan and bokuto went

streets

pairing: hajime iwaizumi x reader

genre: smut

warnings: 18+ nsfw, mentions of alcohol consumption, oral (male receiving), choking, dirty talk, daddy kink, slight size kink, slight praise kink

summary: you give your boyfriend top at the red light

you sigh as you climb into the passenger seat of the car, your body feeling heavy because of how tired you were. as you settle into the seat you hear the door of the driver’s side opening. your head lolling to the side, you see your boyfriend. you catch iwaizumi’s eyes and with a small smile he leans forward pecking your lips.

after pulling back, he begins to put his seat belt on and breaks the comfortable silence, “i hope tonight wasn’t too much. i know you don’t really like parties.”

oikawa had thrown a little new year’s kickback as a celebration of not only the new year but him finally being back in japan. he had invited a majority of the seijoh boys and of course iwaizumi. being oikawa’s closest friend, iwaizumi knew he had to show up or else oikawa would whine about it for the months to come. truth be told, hajime was looking forward to spending his new year with you cuddled on the couch while some random countdown special played in the background. clearly that wasn’t the case. the both of you had went and hajime had made it known that he didn’t feel like drinking tonight but he had no issue if you wanted to. you had decided not to drink too much because you didn’t want your boyfriend to ring in the new year by holding your hair up while you threw your guts up in the toilet. although, you knew that if that were to happen he would have no problem with it. a couple beers and a shot or two later, you and hajime decided to take your leave early in hopes that you two could make it home before the clock hit 12:00.

leaning your head back against the headrest you close your eyes and smile, “no, it’s okay. i had a lot of fun. nothing beats seeing makki and mattsun doing drunk karaoke.”

hajime begins to reverse the car, placing his hand on the back of your headrest as he looks back. he shakes his head, “yeah but hearing that shit is awful, i almost went deaf.”

he looks at you briefly before directing his attention to the road in front of him, “are you okay though? you need me to pick up anything?”

you were always able to handle your liquor fairly well so you don’t feel anything more than a slight buzz. you open your eyes to look at your boyfriend, slight smile still on your face, “i’m okay, just wanna be home.”

Keep reading

sometimes a good friend group is just all the kids from a haikyuu team who are in the same year

something something Aoba Johsai's motto being "Rule the court" which is the ground and Karasuno's motto being "Fly" which is an action that's off the ground

YahabaxKawanishi

It's no secret that Yahaba and Shirabu don't like each other. Kawanischi, on the other hand, has nothing against the Seijo captain. He is rather amused that there is someone who can give his best friend such good counters. At some point he starts talking to Yahaba, they exchange numbers and write back and forth. They get on really well and Taichi realizes that he feels more for Yahaba. But he's worried because he doesn't always want to stand between his best friend and his (hopefully soon to be)  boyfriend. But the two surprise him. At first they have to really pull themselves together not to go for each other's throats, but as time goes by they realize that they have some similarities. At the next tournament, the two of them team up against Futakuchi and Taichi wonders what kind of demon due he has created.

YahabaxUshijima

I know it’s a stupid ship, but imagine Oikawa's face when he finds out about the two of them.  He immediately calls his Iwa-chan and says that they have to fly to Japan to save their son. Ushijima must have manipulated him somehow or maybe Yahaba is possessed by a ghost! Meanwhile, Iwaizumi is wondering whether this is the right moment to tell Oikawa that he is now friends with Ushijima.

Imagine: A test match between Shiratorizawa and Aoba Johsai and from second one the captains (Shirabu and Yahaba) are throwing insults back and forth, they are worse than Oikawa and Ushijima. End of the match and Shirabu goes to Yahaba. Kyoutani and Kawanishi are getting ready to tear the two apart but then...they suddenly start talking trash about some Aunt Hana and can't stop laughing. Goshiki thinks he's landed in a parallel universe! Shirabu laughs! It turns out that the two are cousins who have a very good relationship. But as soon as they're on the court, it doesn't matter - they trash-talking each other like nobody else

Managerial Duties: Aoba Johsai

Aoba Johsai’s volleyball team was many things—talented, competitive, and, above all, nosy. But when it came to you, their manager, they had collectively accepted one simple fact: you lived in oversized, comfortable clothing.

Baggy sweatpants, hoodies, loose athletic shirts—if it wasn’t designed for maximum comfort, you didn’t wear it. Even during official team meetings outside of school, you opted for relaxed attire: a sweatshirt over leggings, sneakers, and maybe a jacket if it was cold. It wasn’t that you disliked fashion, exactly. You just didn’t see the need to dress up for them.

So when you casually mentioned you had to leave practice early for a family event, no one thought much of it.

"Skipping out on us?" Oikawa teased, tossing a volleyball in the air as you packed up your clipboard. "And here I thought we were your favorite people in the world."

"You’re absolutely not," you deadpanned, adjusting the strap on your bag.

"What’s the occasion?" Iwaizumi asked, more genuinely curious.

"Wedding," you muttered. "Family thing. My parents are making me go."

Matsukawa, stretching lazily, smirked. "That why you’re sneaking off?"

"Something like that," you grumbled, crossing your arms. "They’re making me wear this stupid dress. It’s all tight and uncomfortable, and the shoes are even worse. Who the hell decided that formalwear should be painful?"

Hanamaki raised an eyebrow. "What’s it look like?"

You groaned, already dreading the memory of trying it on. "It’s one of those straight-jacket ones that make you feel like you can’t breathe. Apparently, looking ‘put together’ is more important than basic human comfort. I swear, my mom picked this just to torture me."

"Sounds fancy," Watari mused.

"Sounds awful," you corrected. "I’m gonna suffer through this thing and then burn it the second I get home."

"Bet you’ll look nice, though," Kindaichi added hesitantly, rubbing the back of his neck.

You gave him a deadpan look. "If you call suffering looking nice, sure. Anyway, I’ll see you guys at the next practice. Don’t destroy the gym while I’m gone."

"No promises!" Hanamaki called as you walked off.

That was the end of it.

Practice was still in full swing when you stepped back into the gym, freshly changed and already regretting every single life choice that had led you to this moment. You had only come back because you’d stupidly left your phone on the bench, a mistake that now seemed far worse than just being phoneless for a few hours. The team was scattered across the court, finishing up drills and cooldowns, their chatter filling the space as they moved around. You had hoped—prayed, even—that you could slip in, grab your phone, and leave unnoticed. But fate, as always, was cruel.

Then you stepped forward.

And the entire gym stopped dead in its tracks.

Oikawa, who had been mid-sentence, visibly choked. His water bottle slipped from his hand, clattering to the floor.

"Holy shit," Matsukawa whispered, not even trying to be subtle.

Iwaizumi, caught off guard, blinked hard, as if his brain needed an extra second to process what was happening. Yahaba, who had been chatting with Kunimi, turned so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash, mouth opening but no words coming out. Kunimi, usually too lazy to react to anything, actually paused, his usual indifferent stare slightly wider than normal.

Even Kyotani, who rarely paid attention to anything that wasn’t volleyball or fighting, furrowed his brows, looking between you and the rest of the team like he had just walked into some elaborate prank. After a long pause, he finally muttered, "Why do you look like that?"

You shifted uncomfortably, hating every second of this. "My God. Can you guys stop staring?"

"We can’t," Watari blurted, sounding just as shocked as the rest.

Because, for the first time since they had met you, you weren’t wearing your usual baggy, oversized clothing. You weren’t hidden under loose layers of fabric that swallowed your frame. No, today, you had been dressed by your mother, which meant you were in something far more… put together.

The dress was sleek and form-fitting, something you never would have picked for yourself. The fabric hugged your silhouette in a way that felt unfamiliar, and you had spent the entire night feeling like you were playing dress-up in someone else’s clothes. To make matters worse, your mother had insisted on makeup—subtle, but noticeable enough to make you feel even less like yourself. The heels were even worse—unsteady, impractical, and making you curse whoever thought fancy shoes should hurt.

"Why—how—what?!" Kindaichi, who had been stretching, nearly tipped over from shock.

"Is that you?" Hanamaki added, pointing unnecessarily.

"No," you deadpanned. "I’m an imposter. The real me is at the wedding, plotting my escape."

"Hah—seriously, though! You clean up nice," Matsukawa mused, looking you up and down with a smirk. "Didn’t know you had it in you."

"No one did," Yahaba muttered, still looking at you like you had just shapeshifted before his eyes. "What the hell."

"I don’t," you grumbled, adjusting the hem of the dress uncomfortably. "My parents picked this out. Not my choice."

"Your parents should pick your outfits more often," Oikawa said before immediately ducking as Iwaizumi chucked a towel at his head.

Kunimi let out a short exhale. "So that’s what was under all those sweatpants. Huh."

Kyotani just grunted, arms crossed. "Tch. Whatever. Doesn’t change anything." But the way he kept glancing at you said otherwise.

"And that’s why I dress the way I do," you huffed.

Sensing your growing discomfort, Iwaizumi sighed, running a hand down his face. "Alright, that’s enough. Stop freaking out."

"I am freaking out," Oikawa retorted. "This is earth-shattering news."

"You’re an idiot," Iwaizumi muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You love me," Oikawa shot back, undeterred.

"I don’t," Iwaizumi deadpanned.

You exhaled, already exhausted. "Okay, I’m leaving now. If anyone makes another comment, I swear I’m quitting this team."

"No, wait!" Oikawa called. "Just one picture—"

You shot him a withering glare that promised pain if he continued that sentence. He wisely shut up.

With that, you turned on your heel and left, still muttering under your breath about hating dresses, hating heels, and how you were never letting your mother pick your outfits again. Behind you, the team was still buzzing, voices overlapping as they tried to make sense of what had just happened.

Matsukawa let out a low whistle. "Damn. We’re never gonna see that again, are we?"

"Nope," Hanamaki sighed. "Should’ve taken that picture."

"So we had a hot manager this whole time?" Yahaba muttered, still looking at where you stood like he was processing a cosmic revelation.

Oikawa, arms crossed, hummed thoughtfully. "Iwa-chan, do you think we could convince her to dress up again?"

Iwaizumi didn’t even hesitate. "No."

Rivalry: Kyotani/Mad Dog (NSFW)

You had always been a hothead. It was something the team had come to accept, even appreciate, over time. Your sharp tongue and refusal to take anyone’s crap made you the perfect manager for Seijoh—especially when it came to keeping the chaos of Oikawa and the others in check.

Until Kyōtani arrived.

They called him Mad Dog for a reason, and from the moment he stepped onto the court, you knew he was going to be a problem. He was raw, aggressive, barely listening to anyone, and his sheer refusal to be controlled made him the biggest wildcard the team had ever seen. Even Oikawa—who had made a sport out of getting under people’s skin—had to take a step back and re-evaluate.

The coach, Oikawa, and Iwaizumi had even pulled you aside before his first official practice, practically begging you to not bite his head off.

“Look,” Iwaizumi had said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just… try not to engage with him too much. He’s got a short fuse.”

Oikawa sighed dramatically. “And you have a much shorter one, which makes this whole thing a recipe for disaster.”

You had rolled your eyes, arms crossed. “I’m not going to start anything. But I’m not going to stand by and let him run the show, either.”

And true to your word, you hadn’t gone looking for a fight. But Kyōtani made it impossible not to fight back.

The team tried to adjust to him, letting his rough playing style integrate into their system, but you could see it plain as day—Kyōtani wasn’t playing with them. He was playing through them, like they were just obstacles in his way instead of teammates.

So when he nearly took out Matsukawa during a reckless play, you didn’t hold back.

The tension in the gym shifted the second you opened your mouth.

“Kyōtani, if you’re going to keep playing like a brainless lunatic, at least do it outside of practice where you’re not dragging the rest of us down.”

The words sliced through the gym, sharp and unapologetic.

Silence.

The entire team froze. Even Oikawa, who usually thrived on chaos, hesitated mid-laugh, his expression shifting into something wary. Iwaizumi muttered a curse under his breath, already preparing for the fallout.

Kyōtani’s head snapped up so fast it was almost inhuman, his eyes burning with a fury that could’ve set the entire gym on fire. His entire body stiffened before he was already charging toward you, a force of pure, unrelenting anger.

“The hell did you just say to me?” His voice was gravel, rough and unrestrained, like he was barely holding himself back.

You didn’t flinch. Didn’t waver. Just folded your arms and stepped toward him, meeting his fire with your own. “I said you’re reckless. A liability. And if you keep playing like an idiot, you’re going to cost us more than just a few points.”

Kyōtani’s jaw locked. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“The one who has to clean up after your messes,” you shot back, eyes gleaming with defiance. “You think playing like a rabid dog makes you stronger? It just makes you sloppy.”

The muscle in his jaw ticked dangerously. He took another step forward, close enough that you could feel the heat of his fury radiating off him. His fists clenched so tightly at his sides that his knuckles went white. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“Oh? Then tell me,” you challenged, tilting your head mockingly. “Are you deliberately making the same dumbass mistakes, or is it just a bad habit?”

A few strangled sounds came from the team behind you. Hanamaki visibly recoiled, while Matsukawa mouthed, Holy shit. Oikawa, however, looked absolutely delighted.

Kyōtani’s breath hitched, nostrils flaring as his rage boiled over. “The hell’s your problem?!?”

You smirked, unbothered. “Right now? You.”

That was it.

Kyōtani lunged—actually lunged—shoulders tensing like he was about to tear through you.

“Oi! Enough!” Oikawa’s voice cut through the thick tension as he shoved himself between you, hands raised in an attempt to de-escalate. “Let’s not murder our manager, yeah? Not exactly great for team morale.”

Neither of you budged.

“Back off, Oikawa,” Kyōtani growled, eyes still locked onto yours like a predator locked onto prey.

“Yeah, no, I don’t think I will,” Oikawa shot back, still grinning but with thinly veiled nerves. “How about we all take a deep breath and—”

“Kyōtani,” Iwaizumi cut in, voice sharp, stepping in beside Oikawa. His hand slammed into Kyōtani’s chest, holding him back with unquestionable force. “That’s enough.”

Kyōtani was breathing hard, his shoulders rising and falling erratically, but he didn’t move. Iwaizumi’s hold was unyielding—and everyone in the gym knew that when Iwaizumi shut something down, it was over.

For now.

Kyōtani’s chest heaved, but after a long, tense beat, he jerked his arm away and stormed toward the other side of the gym, hands clenched at his sides.

Kyōtani didn’t bother with another word. His jaw was locked, his entire frame radiating barely-contained rage as he turned on his heel and stormed out of the gym altogether, the doors slamming behind him with enough force to make the walls tremble. The silence he left in his wake was deafening, the air still crackling with tension even after he was gone.

You watched him go, arms still folded, expression neutral. But inside?

You were already looking forward to the next round.

And you could tell—so was he.

By the time the rest of the team had filtered out of the gym, you were still lingering, scribbling down notes on the practice report. The tension from earlier was still humming beneath your skin, but at least Kyōtani was gone, having stormed out long before practice had officially ended.

Just as you were about to finish up, Iwaizumi’s shadow loomed over you.

"What the hell was that?" His voice was low, firm, and pissed—the kind of tone that immediately told you there was no wriggling out of this one.

You let out a light scoff. "What? He started—"

"No. Stop." His voice was sharp enough to cut through any excuse you were about to give. "You can't keep having explosive arguments like this. This isn't some damn street fight. You're the manager. You're supposed to be keeping things together—not provoking him into ripping the gym apart."

Your mouth snapped shut, irritation prickling under your skin. "I wasn’t provoking him, I was holding him accountable. Someone has to."

Iwaizumi pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling through gritted teeth. "Someone will. And that someone is not you."

Oikawa whistled low from a few feet away. "Yikes. Parent mode activated."

Iwaizumi shot him a glare so lethal that even Oikawa had the good sense to shut up.

"Here's what's going to happen," Iwaizumi continued, his gaze back on you. "You're going to apologize."

Your head snapped up. "Absolutely not—"

"You will apologize," he emphasized, his tone brooking no argument, "because he's been instructed to do the same. And for the next week, you’re both staying late every night to clean up the gym together. Since you apparently need time to warm up to each other.""

You gaped at him. "Iwaizumi, if we're left alone together, we will kill each other."

His lips pressed into a thin, unimpressed line. "Either or—it’s a win-win."

Oikawa lingered for a moment, tilting his head at you with an all-too-pleased smirk. "You know, this is probably the funniest thing that’s happened all week. You having to play nice with Mad Dog? I might just have to stick around and watch."

You shot him a glare, but before you could fire back, Iwaizumi grabbed him by the collar, dragging him toward the exit. "No, you won’t."

Oikawa laughed, waving over his shoulder. "Good luck! Try not to get mauled!"

And with that, Iwaizumi yanked him out of the gym, leaving you standing there, seething. __

The morning air was crisp, and players filtered into the gym one by one, stretching and murmuring in hushed conversations about the previous day’s events. In the back of the building, hidden away from curious eyes, you and Kyōtani stood rigid, staring each other down like caged animals, with Iwaizumi standing between you both, arms crossed and absolutely fuming.

“Now,” Iwaizumi started, his tone flat and deadly, “apologize. Both of you.”

You scoffed, arms crossing tightly over your chest. “I have nothing to apologize for—”

“Neither do I,” Kyōtani snapped immediately, jaw locked tight.

Iwaizumi’s glare was sharp enough to cut steel. “That wasn’t a request.”

The weight of his voice left no room for argument, but that didn’t stop you from trying. “Fine,” you muttered begrudgingly, narrowing your eyes. “Sorry for calling you a brainless lunatic. No matter how accurate that name is.”

Kyōtani gritted his teeth so hard you could hear it before muttering, "And I'm sorry for calling you a raging bitch behind your back."

A tense silence stretched between you both, the mutual death glare unwavering. Iwaizumi pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a slow, controlled exhale. "Not great, but whatever. I’m done babysitting you both. Just remember—you’re staying late tonight. Every night. Until you actually learn how to work together."

Your lips curled in frustration, and beside you, Kyōtani’s nostrils flared in irritation. But there was no use arguing with Iwaizumi when he was like this. You both knew it.

Instead, you stomped off toward morning practice, shoulders tense, eyes locked in a wordless standoff with Kyōtani. His glare was like a challenge, sharp and unyielding, but you refused to be the first to break. If anything, you held his gaze harder, your jaw clenching as if sheer force of will could make him combust.

It was infuriating how he just stood there, equally stubborn, like he could go on all day. The tension between you two felt suffocating, thick like the summer heat just before a storm. Every second that passed only made it worse, only made you more determined not to give him the satisfaction of winning something as stupid as this.

The moment you stepped into the gym, you grabbed the clipboard harder than necessary, scowling as you checked off drills. Every muscle in your body was wound tight, and no matter how much you tried to focus, you could still feel him. Every movement Kyōtani made was too loud, every breath too noticeable, like he was doing it on purpose just to annoy you.

When he slammed a ball into the floor a little harder than necessary, you snapped.

"Could you not act like you're trying to break the court? We actually need it to play."

Kyōtani whipped his head toward you, scowl deepening. "Maybe if you stopped staring at me, it wouldn’t bother you so much."

Your fingers twitched. "Oh, please. Your presence is just naturally irritating."

"Funny, I was about to say the same thing about you."

Iwaizumi, watching from the sideline, let out a deep sigh, already regretting his life choices.

Oikawa strolled up beside you, hands casually tucked into his pockets, and leaned in slightly. "Remember to take a deep breath."

You turned to him immediately, eyes still blazing. "You're not helping."

Oikawa straightened, backing away quickly. "Right. Sorry."

The day dragged on, and your irritation refused to fade. Every small thing set you off—Kyōtani’s heavy footsteps, his reckless spikes, even the way he existed just within your space. By evening practice, your patience was nonexistent. Your responses were sharper, your glares colder, and everyone in the gym could feel the storm brewing.

As the team filtered out for the night, Matsukawa cast a sideways glance at Iwaizumi. "Are you sure it’s a good idea to leave them alone together? I’m not confident I won’t wake up and find out there’s been a homicide."

Iwaizumi grunted, arms crossed stubbornly. "They’ll be fine."

Matsukawa didn’t look convinced, but with one last wary glance, he left with the others, leaving just you and Kyōtani standing on opposite sides of the now-empty gym, the tension still thick enough to choke on.

You exhaled sharply through your nose, rolling your shoulders and trying to shake off the irritation that had clung to you all day. "Let’s just get this over with," you muttered, moving toward the storage area. "We’ll split the work. You pick up the stray balls on the court, and I’ll handle the gear." You turned back toward him, narrowing your eyes. "Think you can handle that?"

Kyōtani’s scowl deepened instantly. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like." You turned on your heel before he could bark back another response, deciding it wasn’t worth the effort.

He muttered something under his breath, but you didn’t catch it. Instead, you focused on sorting through the practice gear, trying to ignore the obnoxious way Kyōtani stomped across the gym, each step somehow louder than the last. You could hear him roughly snatching up the scattered volleyballs like they had personally offended him, his movements jerky and aggressive. Then came the sound—

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The rhythmic slam of volleyballs hitting the ground as he hurled them over the net, one after another. It was like a slow, torturous metronome designed specifically to piss you off.

You gritted your teeth, trying to ignore it. Thud. Thud. Each impact echoed through the empty gym, grating on your nerves like nails on a chalkboard. Thud. Thud.

"Can you not?" you snapped finally, voice tight with irritation.

Kyōtani didn’t even look up. "What?"

"Quit throwing them like that. Just pick them up and put them in the cart like a normal person."

He scoffed, grabbing another ball and slamming it down even harder than before. "Get off my ass. It’s faster this way."

Your fingers curled into a fist, your nails pressing into your palm as you inhaled sharply through your nose. "I swear to god—"

"What? Gonna throw another tantrum? Go ahead, maybe Iwaizumi will pat you on the head and tell you what a good little manager you are," he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. Another ball crashed against the floor with an especially sharp, echoing thud, rattling against the empty gym walls.

You stiffened. Thud. Again. Thud. Your eye twitched. Thud.

"Honestly, it’s almost cute how obsessed you are with what I do. Maybe if you focused more on your actual job instead of breathing down my neck, you'd get through this week without crying," he drawled, lazily tossing another ball over the net.

That was it.

Before you could stop yourself, you snatched up one of the stray volleyballs and hurled it straight at his head. It hit dead-on, bouncing off with a sharp thunk that was deeply satisfying.

Kyōtani froze mid-motion, shoulders locking up.

Then, slowly, he turned to face you, expression dark and dangerous. His breath was heavy, nostrils flaring, and for a second, the silence was deafening. Then—

He lunged.

Before you could react, his hands gripped your wrists, shoving you back against the gym wall with enough force to send a sharp jolt up your spine. Your breath hitched, the impact knocking the air out of your lungs, but you barely had time to register it before you were pushing right back.

"What the hell is your problem?!" you snapped, struggling against his hold.

"You," he growled, his voice low and rough, pressing in closer until his breath fanned against your skin. His grip was tight, keeping you in place even as you tried to shove him off.

"Let me go, you psycho," you hissed, jerking your wrists, but he only leaned in harder.

"You throw a ball at my head and expect me to just let it slide?" His voice was a snarl, but there was something else underneath it—something sharp, hungry.

And, of course, you pushed back.

"Yeah, actually," you bit out, lips curling into something close to a smirk. "Considering you deserved it. You’re lucky I don’t throw another."

Something in him snapped.

His hands shifted, and before you knew it, his mouth was on yours.

It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t careful. It was a clash of teeth and frustration, of fury and heat, like neither of you could decide if you wanted to keep fighting or tear each other apart.

Your hands shot up to shove him away, but instead, they curled into his jersey, yanking him closer. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, a sharp bite that made you gasp, and he took full advantage, pressing in harder, deeper.

His hands dropped to your waist, gripping you tight, like he was staking a claim, and you met him head-on, pulling his hair, dragging your nails down his neck, taking just as much as he was giving.

Everything blurred into heat and rough touches, the way his body pressed against yours, the way your hips shifted instinctively, the way neither of you were thinking—just reacting.

Kyōtani pulled back, panting, his forehead pressing against yours, his grip still firm on your waist. His breath was hot against your skin, his eyes blown wide with something between rage and hunger.

"This is a bad idea," you muttered, voice breathless but defiant.

His fingers tightened on your hips.

"Yeah?" His voice was low, dangerous. "Then tell me to stop."

You didn’t.

"You always run your fucking mouth," he growled, voice sharp, jagged. His hands were rough, unforgiving as they gripped your thighs, spreading them apart with purpose. "Let’s see if you can still talk after this."

You huffed a laugh, fingers yanking down his shorts, not bothering to be gentle. "Bet you won’t last long enough to find out."

That was all it took.

Kyōtani didn't waste a second—he slammed inside you in one punishing thrust, forcing a sharp gasp from your lips. It was too much, too fast, too deep—but fuck, it was exactly what you wanted.

The first thrust knocked the air from your lungs. The second had you arching, dragging your nails down his back, marking him, spurring him on.

"Fucking tight," he gritted out, his buzzed hair scraping against your jaw as he bit at your neck, your shoulder—anywhere he could sink his teeth into. He was holding you like he owned you, like he needed to break you apart just to put you back together.

It was raw, messy, desperate. Each snap of his hips was brutal, slamming you harder into the wall, forcing pleasure and pain to blur together.

It should’ve been a fight for dominance, but neither of you were losing—you were meeting him with everything you had, clawing, grinding, biting.

Your fingers tangled into his hair, yanking hard. He snarled, gripping your hips so tight it would leave bruises, slamming into you harder, deeper.

"That all you got?" you taunted, voice breathless, challenging.

Kyōtani laughed—a dark, wrecked sound. "You really wanna test me, huh?"

His pace turned brutal, every thrust hitting deep, devastating. The sharp drag of his cock against your walls, the angle, the overwhelming pressure— it was too much. Too good.

You felt yourself unraveling, the heat coiling tight, pleasure pooling low in your stomach, ripping through you like fire.

"Fuck, I—"

He could feel it. The way your body tightened around him, trembling, desperate, right on the edge. And he wanted to push you over.

"Come on," he rasped, voice strained, his rhythm stuttering as he chased his own release. "You talk all that shit—let me hear you now."

That was all it took.

Pleasure slammed through you, violent and overwhelming, tearing a moan from your lips as you came, clenching around him, dragging him down with you.

Kyōtani cursed, low and guttural, hips jerking as he spilled inside you, his breath ragged, sharp teeth sinking into your shoulder like he needed to leave proof of what just happened.

For a long moment, the only sound was the ragged mix of your breathing. Your body was wrecked, trembling, weak—but so was his.

Kyōtani didn’t pull out. Didn’t move. Just gripped your jaw, tilting your face toward him, his forehead resting against yours as he panted through the aftershocks.

And then, voice rough, breathless, still full of that bite, he muttered—

"Still got something smart to say?"

You panted, barely able to catch your breath, a smirk tugging at your swollen lips. "Yeah—" you exhaled, voice rough, body still trembling. "I know what we're doing tomorrow."

Rivalry: Oikawa

Oikawa Tooru was used to attention.

From the moment he stepped onto the court, eyes followed. Girls sighed when he passed by in the hallways, classmates lit up when he so much as looked in their direction. He had charm, he had skill, and he had a smile that could make anyone—anyone—melt.

Except for the manager.

And it drove him insane.

When she became Seijoh’s team manager, Oikawa expected the usual routine. A few flustered glances, maybe a nervous stammer or two when he spoke to her. Instead? She barely gave him the time of day. Her eyes never lingered, her voice stayed firm, and when he flashed one of his award-winning smiles, she only responded with a flat, unimpressed stare.

At first, it was amusing. A fun little challenge. But as weeks passed, that amusement turned to frustration. Why wasn’t she falling for him like everyone else? Why did it feel like the harder he tried, the more indifferent she became? It was unnatural—Oikawa had spent years perfecting the art of attention, the delicate balance of charm and arrogance that made people gravitate toward him. And yet, she stood there, unmoved, like he was just another player on the team.

It gnawed at him. It wasn’t just that she ignored his flirtation—it was that she treated him exactly the same as she treated everyone else. It made him feel… ordinary.

Oikawa made it a point to test her patience.

“Manager-chan, be honest,” Oikawa mused lazily, twirling a volleyball between his fingers, his tone laced with smug amusement. "Do you ever get tired of pretending you’re immune to my charm?"

She didn’t even look up from her clipboard, her fingers flying across the page as she made notes. "Do you ever get tired of being a desperate attention-seeker?"

Iwaizumi choked on his water, while Hanamaki and Matsukawa outright cackled, exchanging wide-eyed looks of glee. Even Kyōtani, who usually ignored their antics, raised an eyebrow, glancing up from his shoe-lacing. Oikawa, however, was left standing there, momentarily stunned by the sheer disrespect.

“That was uncalled for,” he gasped, clutching his chest as if mortally wounded.

She finally spared him a glance, her gaze flat and unimpressed. "So is your existence, and yet, here we are."

The team erupted. Hanamaki practically slid to the floor from laughing too hard, Matsukawa was bent over the bench wheezing, and even Iwaizumi wiped a hand over his face, shaking his head. "She’s got a point, though."

Oikawa scowled, gripping the volleyball just a little too tight. "Unbelievable. I slave away on the court, leading this team, and this is the gratitude I get? A cruel, heartless manager who refuses to appreciate my many, many talents."

"Oh, I appreciate your talents," she responded coolly, flipping to another page in her notebook. "Just not the ones you want me to."

His mouth opened, then closed, irritation flickering behind his eyes. She had played him—so effortlessly, so ruthlessly, and in front of the whole team, no less. He hated how easily she dismissed him, like he was some annoying background noise. It wasn’t just about her brushing off his flirting anymore—he wanted to rattle her, to break through that ridiculous indifference she seemed to have toward him.

And for the first time in a long while, Oikawa didn’t know how to win.

And that was how it started.

Oikawa made it his personal mission to get a reaction out of her. He turned up the charm, exaggerating his requests, leaving his jersey in the most inconvenient places just to force her to interact with him. And through it all, she remained perfectly unbothered.

Which only made things worse.

During practice, Oikawa's patience had started to fray. What once had been playful teasing was now laced with something sharper, something almost mean. He leaned in too close, his voice lower, more clipped. "You work so hard, manager-chan. Doesn’t it ever get exhausting pretending I don’t bother you?"

She barely spared him a glance. "Not nearly as exhausting as listening to you grasp at straws for my attention."

His fingers twitched at his sides, irritation flaring. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to be the one getting under her skin—not the other way around.. Whenever she’d pass by with the clipboard, he’d throw an arm over her shoulder, lean in just a little too close, and sigh dramatically. "You work so hard, manager-chan. Doesn’t it ever get tiring, pretending you don’t like me?"

"Not as tiring as listening to you talk," she quipped back, shaking him off effortlessly.

That made the rest of the team howl with laughter, much to Oikawa’s dismay.

But the more she dismissed him, the more he found himself noticing her.

How she always had a spare towel ready for anyone who needed it, how her lips twitched when she held back a smile, how she somehow always knew exactly where to be, exactly what needed to be done. The way she’d mutter under her breath when the gym got too chaotic, how she pushed her sleeves up to her elbows when she was in full focus mode.

Even worse, he noticed that she laughed at other people’s jokes. Not his.

It was infuriating.

The way she treated him—like he was just another player, no more important than anyone else—made something coil tight in his chest. It was wrong. He should matter.

As the season went on, their dynamic became something of a spectacle. Matsukawa and Hanamaki kept a running tally on how many times Oikawa failed to get a reaction from her. Even Kyōtani, normally disinterested in team antics, had muttered once, "Why does he even care?"

Practice was no different.

One day, he strolled in late, expecting to slide by unnoticed. Instead, the manager barely glanced up from her clipboard before sighing dramatically.

"And the king has graced us with his presence," she drawled, flipping a page without looking up. "Should we all kneel? Maybe throw some rose petals while we're at it?"

Oikawa's expression twitched. His fingers flexed around the strap of his bag before he forced a scoff. "You wound me, manager-chan. I’d expect at least a little appreciation for my presence."

She finally looked at him, unimpressed. "I’d appreciate it more if you actually showed up on time."

The snickers from the team were immediate. Matsukawa nudged Hanamaki, both grinning like they had front-row seats to the best show in town. Iwaizumi just shook his head, barely hiding his smirk.

Oikawa exhaled through his nose, jaw clenching slightly before he tilted his head, voice dropping just a fraction. "Careful, manager-chan. One of these days, someone’s going to mistake that attitude of yours for something else."

She arched a brow. "Oh? And what’s that?"

"Repressed admiration." His smirk was sharp, eyes locked on hers like he was waiting—daring her to react.

She let a slow smirk creep onto her face. "That’s funny. I was thinking the same thing about you."

Oikawa stiffened for a half-second. It was barely noticeable, but she caught it. And it infuriated him.

Hanamaki snorted. Matsukawa muttered a quiet "brutal" under his breath, and Iwaizumi, ever the opportunist, smirked as he crossed his arms. "Yeah, Oikawa. You expecting a parade or something?"

Oikawa rolled his eyes, adjusting the strap of his bag. "I was—"

"Stretching starts now," she cut him off smoothly, pointing at the mats without even sparing him a second look. "If Iwaizumi yells at you for skipping, I’m certainly not covering for you."

Iwaizumi clapped a hand on Oikawa’s back, grinning. "Yeah, Shittykawa, stretching starts now."

Oikawa groaned, tossing his head back dramatically. "You just like bossing me around."

"Someone has to." She finally looked at him, gaze neutral, unimpressed. Then, before he could respond, she turned and walked off, already shifting her attention to something else, like he wasn’t even worth her time.

He scowled. Why did it feel like he lost that exchange?

The next few weeks were much of the same. The team noticed, amused by the ongoing battle. They weren’t even subtle about it anymore.

"Oikawa, just accept defeat," Matsukawa teased one afternoon, leaning against the gym wall as he watched her deep in conversation with Iwaizumi, clipboard in hand, discussing strategy. She was nodding at something Iwaizumi said, her brow furrowed in concentration, flipping a page in her notes. Oikawa barely heard the words being exchanged, too focused on the way she looked—completely absorbed in the discussion, giving Iwaizumi the full weight of her attention. It was so effortless for her, this back-and-forth, the way she actually cared about his vice-captain’s input, about the game.

His grip on the volleyball tightened. Why did it feel like she never talked to him like that? "She’s immune. It’s kind of inspiring."

Oikawa scoffed, crossing his arms. "I will win. Just wait."

But the truth was, it wasn’t about winning anymore. It wasn’t about charming her or getting a reaction—Oikawa realized, somewhere between watching her scribble notes on the clipboard and catching glimpses of her tying her hair back, that he wanted her attention. He wanted her to look at him the way she looked at the others, wanted to hear her laugh because of him.

And that was unacceptable.

The breaking point finally came after a game.

The team had secured another victory, but the entire time, Oikawa’s mind wasn’t on the match. It wasn’t on his perfectly placed serves, on the points he racked up, or even on the cheers from the crowd.

It was on her.

She had celebrated, high-fiving Kyōtani, clapping Iwaizumi on the back, beaming as she praised the team for their effort. The smile she wore was bright, uninhibited, the kind of happiness he had never seen from her before. She was laughing—actually laughing—carefree and glowing as if this win meant the world to her.

And she hadn’t looked at him once.

He hated it.

Hated how effortless it was for her to shower attention on everyone else, how easily she smiled at them, joked with them, treated them as if they were worth her time. But him? She barely acknowledged his existence, acting as if he was nothing more than a passing nuisance.

His grip on his jersey tightened. Something inside him burned, sharp and unsettled, curling hot in his chest like an ember waiting to catch fire. It wasn’t fair. He had worked harder than anyone for this win, pushed himself beyond exhaustion to make sure they came out on top. And yet, when she smiled, when she laughed—it wasn’t because of him.

And that was the moment Oikawa snapped.

So when he saw her alone in the hallway after the match, clipboard in hand, he didn’t think.

"Why do you act like that?" His voice was tight, laced with frustration that he couldn't contain anymore.

She glanced up, brow raised. "Act like what?"

Oikawa stepped closer, his jaw clenching, heat simmering beneath his skin. "Like I’m nothing. Like I don’t exist. You joke with them, you celebrate with them, but with me? It’s like I could disappear and you wouldn’t even notice."

Her smirk was slow, taunting. "Oh, is that what this is about? You need me to fawn over you like everyone else? Poor Oikawa. Is it finally sinking in that I don’t care about stroking your over-inflated ego?"

His eyes darkened. "That’s not—"

She cut him off, stepping forward so the space between them all but disappeared. "You think I didn't know about you before I joined the team? You think I didn't know you'd try with me? I will not swoon and kiss your feet, Tooru."

Oikawa opened his mouth, but the words tangled. He wanted to refute it, to tell her it wasn’t about that, but the way she was looking at him—bold, unshaken, challenging—knocked the thoughts from his head.

He groaned in frustration, fingers twitching at his sides before he finally gave up fighting it. Before she could say another word, his hands shot up, gripping her waist as he yanked her toward him, lips crashing into hers.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t careful. It was messy, desperate, filled with months—years—of unresolved tension. His fingers curled against her hips, pulling her closer, his kiss carrying the weight of everything he couldn’t say. It was a demand, a declaration, a fight in its own right.

And the worst part? She kissed him back.

Her fingers curled into his jersey, yanking him closer as if daring him to take it further. He could feel her heartbeat, hammering against his own, and suddenly, nothing else mattered—not the game, not the team, not the rivalry that had defined them for so long.

Just him.

Just her.

When he finally pulled away, both of them breathless, Oikawa rested his forehead against hers, his hands still gripping her waist. He exhaled sharply, lips curving into something between a smirk and disbelief.

"You looked at me just now," he murmured, voice rough.

She huffed a laugh, fingers still tangled in his jersey. "Shut up," she whispered, then pulled him down and kissed him again.

It was just as desperate as before, just as fevered, but this time, there was something else—acceptance. She wasn’t pushing him away, wasn’t stopping to argue. She was right there with him, matching his intensity, giving as much as she took. It was infuriating. It was exhilarating. It was everything.

And then—

Footsteps.

A sharp intake of breath.

Both of them froze just as Iwaizumi and Matsukawa turned the corner.

Iwaizumi stopped mid-step. Matsukawa, wide-eyed, blinked once, then twice. The hallway fell into a suffocating silence.

Then, slowly, in perfect synchronization, both of them took a single step backward.

Another.

Without a word, they turned around and walked the other way, as if they had just stumbled into something forbidden.

Matsukawa exhaled as they rounded the corner. "Damn. He really did get her."

Iwaizumi nodded. "Yeah."

A beat of silence.

"I hate him," Iwaizumi muttered.

Matsukawa sighed. "Me too."

Unrequited Love: Oikawa (Bonus)

The team was loud, as always.

Oikawa, now freshly showered and looking somewhat like himself again, was in the middle of being teased by Hanamaki and Matsukawa.

“So, Captain, let’s talk about your tragic love life,” Matsukawa said, slinging an arm around Oikawa’s shoulders.

Hanamaki took a dramatic sip of his drink. “Yeah, we all knew she was gonna break up with you before you did. What does that say about you, huh?”

“Shut up,” Oikawa groaned, smacking Matsukawa’s arm off him, though there was no real heat behind it. You could see his mood rising with every passing moment.

“Hey, at least you still have volleyball,” Matsukawa said, raising his glass like he was making a toast.

“Right, the one true love of your life,” Hanamaki added with a smirk.

Oikawa sighed dramatically. “You guys are the worst.”

You watched from the side, letting their banter wash over you. The ache from earlier was still there, a dull weight in your chest, but at least Oikawa wasn’t sulking anymore. That was the important thing.

A presence appeared beside you, and you didn’t even have to look to know it was Hajime.

“I’m impressed,” he admitted, crossing his arms as he watched Oikawa shove Hanamaki. “I tried to get him out of bed earlier, but he wouldn’t budge.”

You smirked, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “That’s because you don’t know how to sweet-talk him, Hajime.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. If I tried sweet-talking Oikawa, I’d never hear the end of it.”

You snickered. “Yeah, he’d probably take that as an invitation to propose.”

Hajime shook his head, amused, before glancing at you, his expression shifting into something more knowing. “So,” he said casually, “are you going to make a move, or are we just going to keep going in circles?”

You exhaled sharply, running a hand through your hair. “Please, you should’ve seen what he told me earlier.”

Hajime raised an eyebrow.

You turned to him, pressing a hand to your chest mockingly, and sighed dramatically. “He looked me in the eye, Hajime. And do you know what he said?”

Hajime waited.

“You’re a good friend,” you deadpanned, voice dripping with bitterness.

Hajime winced. “Ouch.”

“Yeah.” You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. “So, no, I’m not making a move. Not when he clearly doesn’t see me that way.”

Hajime was quiet for a moment before shrugging. “You never know. He’s an idiot. You might have to spell it out for him.”

You huffed, watching as Oikawa dramatically whined about something to the others. “Yeah, well… I think I’ve done enough for one night.” Then you hear a whine of your name. You look over to Oikawa's pleading face along with Matsun's and Makki's devious ones.

“You promised me they would give me a break!” Oikawa suddenly called out, his voice carrying over the chatter of the team. His eyes locked onto yours, pleading dramatically, though the glint of betrayal was exaggerated.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a smirk. “C’mon, guys, give him some slack,” you called, raising your hands in surrender.

Hanamaki gasped in mock offense. “Oh, so now you’re defending him?”

“She’s going soft,” Matsukawa said, shaking his head.

“I am not going soft,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes.

Hajime, beside you, smirked before stepping forward. “Actually, now that I think about it… didn’t Oikawa almost cry in first-year when he lost his favorite knee pads?”

Oikawa whipped around. “Iwa-chan.”

“Oh, right!” Hanamaki’s eyes lit up. “The ones with the little stars on them?”

“You guys swore to take that to the grave!” Oikawa cried, scandalized.

“I don’t know, man,” Matsukawa said, leaning back with a grin. “Kind of sounds like a moment that deserves to be remembered.”

As the teasing escalated, Oikawa slumped in his seat, arms crossed, pouting like a child. “I hate all of you.”

You laughed at the whole exchange, and when you glanced back at Oikawa, expecting him to still be sulking, you caught something different—something small, almost imperceptible.

He was smiling.

It was barely there, just a slight tug at the corners of his lips, but it was real. And for a brief moment, as his gaze lifted, he met your eyes.

The world around you blurred, and warmth spread through your chest. You swore you felt your heart stutter, just for a second.

And then, as quickly as the moment had happened, you cursed yourself for it.

Get a grip, you scolded yourself, tearing your gaze away.

Oikawa was still laughing with the others, completely unaware of the effect he had on you.

You exhaled, shaking your head, willing the butterflies away.

Hajime, still standing beside you, didn’t say anything, but when you glanced at him, he was looking at you with a knowing expression.

“Not a word,” you muttered.

He smirked. “Didn’t say anything.”

You groaned, shoving his shoulder, but he only chuckled in response.

Unrequited Love: Oikawa

You’d known Oikawa for as long as you could remember. From messy sandbox battles to after-school practices that went late into the evening, he’d always been there—your first friend, your longest friend. The three of you—Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and you—had always been a unit, bound by years of shared childhood, inside jokes, and more than a few arguments.

But right now? Right now, Oikawa was testing every ounce of your patience.

“Hajime said you’ve been holed up in here for hours,” you said as you shoved open his bedroom door without knocking. “What’s your excuse this time?”

Oikawa groaned from the depths of his bed, a mess of blankets and pillows hiding all but the top of his ruffled hair. His room was a disaster zone: clothes scattered everywhere, an abandoned volleyball rolling lazily near the desk, and the faint smell of coffee from the cup Hajime must’ve left here earlier.

“Go away,” Oikawa muttered, voice muffled by his pillow.

“No,” you said firmly, kicking the door shut behind you. “I’m not letting you sulk forever. What happened?”

He rolled onto his back, his face pale and his eyes a little red. “She broke up with me,” he muttered, his voice cracking just enough to make you wince. “She said I was too focused on volleyball. That I didn’t care enough about her.”

Your heart squeezed. You’d seen the writing on the wall. Oikawa was intense about volleyball—obsessed, really. It was one of the things you admired about him, even when it frustrated you. But it was hard to hear him like this, even harder to know that he’d never think about you the way he thought about her.

You crossed your arms, steeling yourself. “Well, she’s not wrong,” you said, your tone blunt. “You’ve got a one-track mind, Tooru. Volleyball this, volleyball that. What did you think would happen?”

His face scrunched up in annoyance, and he reached out to grab a pillow, lobbing it weakly in your direction. “Gee, thanks for the support.”

You dodged it easily, smiling despite yourself. “I’m serious, Tooru. You’ve got to figure this out, or you’re going to keep pushing people away.”

He groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes. “You sound like Iwa-chan.”

“Maybe that’s because Hajime and I are the only ones stubborn enough to stick around while you throw yourself headfirst into everything,” you shot back, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Do you even realize how much we’ve put up with over the years?”

He peeked at you from under his arm, a reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You guys are too stubborn to leave me.”

“Damn right we are,” you said, reaching out to flick his forehead. “But don’t push your luck.”

Silence fell between you, the tension lifting slightly. You leaned back, resting on your hands as you studied him. His hair was a mess, his shirt wrinkled, and he looked younger somehow, like the kid you used to climb trees with instead of the volleyball star he was now.

“Come on,” you said eventually, standing up and brushing imaginary dust off your pants. “The team’s going out. You can’t stay in here forever.”

“I don’t feel like it,” he muttered, sitting up slowly.

“Tough.” You grabbed his wrist and tugged, ignoring his protests. “Go shower, change, and join us. I’ll wait in the living room to make sure you don’t crawl back into bed.”

He sighed, dragging his feet as he shuffled toward his dresser. “You’re so bossy.”

“And you’re so whiny,” you shot back, grinning. “Go!”

Just as you turned to leave, his voice stopped you.

“Hey.”

You glanced back, raising an eyebrow. He stood there, clothes in hand, his expression softer than usual.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice quieter now. “You’re a good friend.”

The words hit harder than they should have, settling like a stone in your chest. But you forced a smile, pushing the ache down where it belonged.

“Of course,” you replied, your voice steady.

You closed the door behind you, leaning against it for just a moment.

Being his friend was enough, you told yourself.

It had to be.

Aoba Johsai VBC with a manager series.

Story: The team finding out that someone has given you a love letter.

GN reader

Not Requested.

Request Rules.

Masterlist.

(I’m sorry if this is a bit sloppy, my mind has not been on the right track lately, and it’s mostly the four 3rd years that get’s a lot of mention in here)

[L.Name] [Name] is Aoba Johsai manager, the team didn't have any manager prior before so the team was really ecstatic to have a manager this year.

And besides, the coach felt like he could only trust them with the position since ever since Oikawa joined the team with the same year as them.

But anyway, it was the usual. The team were having 5 - 5 and such while the coach and assistant coach observe them and them were taking notes of their performance. But [Name] mind kept coming back to the letter that they had found underneath their desk before they went to the gym.

They shook their though and looked back at the team but was only met with a ball growing towards them and hitting them in the face.

The others mouth were wide open as what just happened, they held their head as the team went up to check up on them.

"Oh god! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it!"

Iwaizumi said panicking walking in front of you.

"Are you alright [L.Name]-senpai?" Yahaba asked as you looked at them with a smile as you shake your hand. "Don't worry, I'm alright. Don-"

"AAAHHHH! [L.Name]-san! Your nose is bleeding!"

The others went to panic mode as everyone was scrambling around at the fact that their precious manager nose was bleeding and Iwaizumi was just apologizing profusely even more.

"Go grab a tissue and instead of running around! You idiots!"

"Yes sir!"

Kindaichi ran towards where they always kept the tissue ran up to the manager with the box and handed it to them, [Name] took some tissue and put it inside their nose to stop the bleeding.

"I'm alright you guys, it's just a bleeding don't worry. And Iwaizumi, please stop bowing." [Name] said as they put their hand on his shoulder.

"All right, all right. You guys go back to practicing now. And [Name], you should go to the infirmary." He said as [Name] nodded and stood up putting the notebook and walked out of the gym to get checked by the nurse.

"Is [L.Name] going to be okay?" Kindaichi said watching the manager walked out of the gym holding their nose. "Don't worry Kindaichi~ it's just a nosebleed. [Name] dealt much more worse than that." Oikawa said patting his shoulder.

"Yeah, like dealing with OIkawa."

"You two!"

"Get back to practice!!"

"Don't worry the bleeding will eventually stop, just sit down at the bed and I will check in a few minutes later if the bleeding stopped." The nurse said as [Name] nodded their head as the nurse walked out of the bed that was covered by a curtain.

They will need a few minutes before they could go back to the gym, they sighed and took out another tissue from the box and took out the tissue from their nose and put it in the new one inside.

While in the gym, practice was already over and everyone was taking a break and the team was talking to each other while drinking water, sitting on the ground and wiping off their sweat. But then Kunimi eyes saw something on the ground, he looked at it and it seems like a paper, or an envelope,

It probably flew inside the gym, he sighed. It was probably from Oikawa fangirls. He went towards the envelope and took it and walked back to the group. “Hey, I found a letter from the ground.” Kunimi said waving the letter around as the others looked at it and then looked at each other.

“It’s probably for Oikawa.”

“Yeah.”

“Aye.”

“All right, just give it to OIkawa. Kunimi.” Iwaizumi said as Kunimi nodded and handed the envelope to the male, Oikawa opened the letter and it seems like it wasn’t really sticking to the paper well. He shrugged it off and took the paper out of it.

He read through the letter but his face contorted when he read the first few words making the others worry. “What is it Oikawa?” Hanamaki said standing.

“Why does your face look so shock?” Iwaizumi said as OIkawa looked at the group. “This is not for me...”

.....

“HUH?!”

‘What do you mean it’s not for you! Every goddamn love letter is always for you!”

“I mean, I don’t wanna brag bu-”

“Shut the fuck up Hanamaki.”

“Ouch.”

Iwaizumi walked up to the male. “So who is it addressed to?” He asked as Oikawa had a horrified look on his face. “It’s addressed... to our precious manager. [L.Name]-chan.” Oikawa said as he crumpled the paper in his hand and started shaking Iwaizumi.

“We can’t let out precious manager be taken by some weird guy!! What if their creepy and dangerous as hell!”

“Calm down Oikawa!”

“What do you mean “calm down”! Our manager is going to be taken!” 

“This is not the time to be calm Iwaizmu!”

“We should protect our precious manager!”

“You two are seriously agreeing with Trashykawa right now?!”

“How about let’s all calm-”

“Watari!! How can we be calm whe-” Oikawa was cut off when he was hit in the back of the head by the male. “Calm down! We don’t even know if [Name] returns the feelings!” Iwaizumi said as the others went quiet.

“Ah, you’re right about that.”

Mattsukawa said nodding his head as well as Hanamaki, then they all sat down on the floor as the letter laid down in the middle of the group. They were all staring at it deeply then Iwaizumi spoke. “Oikawa, read the letter.”

“Yes.” Oikawa said crawling and took the letter and went back to his spot adn read the letter out loud for the team to hear. 

“Dear [L.Name] [Name],

                   I am writing this letter to you as I currently have feelings for you, and I have feelings for you ever since our 2nd year. I always watched you from afar and I always want to talk to you but I’m too shy to do it so, and I feel like I don’t deserve to be even near you. I really don’t like at how clingy Oikawa is to you, what is he? A child- AAAH THIS BASTARD!!” Oikawa stop reading the letter as he crumpled the paper even more.

“Yah! Don’t crumble the paper even more!!”

“You’re going to rip it half!”

“But their kinda right to be honest.”

Iwaizumi smacked Oikawa to stop from complaining even further than he is right now. “Continue.” He said as the brown haired male nodded his head and continued reading the letter.

“And I’m also the person who has been sending you those little gifts that you find in your shoe locker, I really hope you appreciated it. I was hoping you would come by in Friday behind the school when school is ended.

Sinceriously, your secret admirer.”

The others were quiet for awhile before chaos ensued in the gym as everyone was panicking especially since the admirer was going to confess this Friday, so creaming could be hear inside the gym making the people outside wondering on was happening inside the gym.

“What are we going to do?!”

“We have to kill them of course!”

“Oh! Nice idea Matsukawa!”

“CALM DOWN! NO ONE IS KILLING ANYONE!!”

They calm down as everyone except for Iwaizumi got on their knees, Iwaizumi sighed and shook his head. “Look, let’s just put the letter back on where it belong and act like nothing happened, all right?” Iwaizumi said as everyone nodded but Hanamaki spoke up.

“But what about [L.Name] secret admirer? They could be dangerous?”

“Yeah!”

“How can we know that?”

Iwaizumi sighed. “No, let’s just investigate and see who it is. And Kunimi put the on [Name] notebook before they get here.” Iwaizumi said as the 1st year nodded and put the letter back on the notebook so that it won’t fly off.

And right in time, [Name] came back and saw everyone practicing and such. The team saw them and walked towards the manager. Asking if they were okay which they replied it they were and Iwaizumi apologized once again before [Name] said it was okay.

“You guys, I'm alright but you should go back to practice now.” [Name] said as they nodded and went back to practicing and [Name] went back to the bench and took the note book and opened it as the letter flied into their lap.

They picked it up and saw how wrinkled it was more than before but they shook thought off but then thought. ’Did the team read the letter?’ They thought but shook it off once again.

A few days later

[L.Name] was starting to think that maybe everyone did read the letter since ever since that day, the team has been way more protective of them lately. Someone would always be there beside them and whenever someone goes to talk to them, they would be glaring hard at them. 

And they have to force them to go away since they wouldn’t leave them alone, so she had asked Kindaichi since they know the male will tell them truth and can’t lie to them because he can’t in general. Well, to them not to others.

They saw Kindaichi standing around presumably waiting for Kunimi.

“Kindaichi.” [Name] called out for him, the said male turned around and saw the third year. “A-Ah! [L.Name]-senpai, what are you doing here?” Kindaichi asked. “Oh, I was planning to ask you something actually.” They said.

“All right! You can ask me anything [Name]-senpai!”

“Did you guys somehow read the letter that was given to me?” [Name] asked with a smile on their face, Kindaichi flinched and froze as he was sweating hard under [Name] gaze on him, what was he supposed to do? Tell the truth? Well, that’s the right thing to do but also at the same time. He was trembling heavily on their gaze making it a dead give away to [Name] that they did read the letters.

But of course since three certain third years were noisy little shits, they were following their manager and saw the interaction and were running towards the two and took Kindaichi, since the male was being completely obvious right now.

“Sorry [L.Name]! We need Kindaichi to do something for us!!” 

They ran away far from the manager who stood there watching them disappear into the distance. 

‘I fucking knew it.’

At Practice

“Kindaichi, you were being obvious back there!!” Hanamaki whispered to the 1st year. “I’m sorry!” He apologized as Iwaizumi walked up to the two. “What are you two whispering about?” He asked as the two looked at him. “[L.Name] had asked him if we had read a letter that was given to them.” Hanamaki said.

“And he was being really obvious about it actually.” Matsukawa said walking towards the three.

“And they probably knows about it right now..”

“Yup.”

The three except for Iwaizumi shrieked and saw [Name] looked at them with a “gentle” smile, they knew they done goofed up since they were basically reading they were not supposed to know especially without [Name] permission. The others were trembling as [Name] let of the gentle smile on their face as they let out a huge sigh.

“Look... I really don’t like it when you guys read through my stuff right?” [Name] said as they all nodded. “And I don’t like it even more when you guys try do something stupid to find out about something, you guys should have confronted to me about it.” [Name] said while shaking their head.

While the others were dumbfounded as they realized on how easy it could’ve been but then again, they didn’t want to face [Name] wrath when they found out that they have been snooping through their stuff. They certainly don’t want that especially the 2nd and 3rd years, the 1st years haven’t experienced it... yet.

“Wait... so we should’ve have asked you about it?” OIkawa said as [Name] nodded. “Of course, I know you guys would be snooping around once you found about the love letter that I had received. You think I would be dumb enough to not know this would happen one day?” [Name] said while raising an eyebrow and their arms crossed.

“We’re sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

[Name] said as they took out the letter. “Also, tomorrow is the day that I’ll be meeting the secret admirer and for your information. I don’t have feelings for this person.” They said as the team let out an relief, but then Kunimi spoke up.

“But [L.Name]-san, do you know the person who wrote the letter to you?” He asked as [Name] nodded their head. “Yeah, I accidently found out while I was walking back to my locker to gets something but enough of that. You guys should go back to practice now before the coach kicks your asses again.”

“Yes!”

That Friday.

“I like you [L.Name]! Please go out with me!”

They bowed in front of them as [Name] looked at them. “I’m sorry but I can’t return the feelings [R.Name].” They said as the bowed while the said person stood up straight.

“O-Oh... is that so...” They awkwardly said since they don’t know what tp say about the rejection that they had received. “I’m really sorry especially since you bought those gifts for me, but I haven’t opened them and I want it to return them to you.” [Name] said as they handed them the bag that was filled with unopened gifts.

“You should give them to another person that returns the feelings for you.” [Name] said as they bowed once again and walked off, [R.Name] looked at the bag as they tried to stop the incoming tears and walked off.

The team was watching the confession behind the wall, they let out a sigh of relief but also at the same time felt bad for the person. Especially since [Name] didn’t open the gift that they had spend money on but they know [Name] can’t accept gifts but specifically the ones romantically for them.

Even though to others, it kinda seem like a jerk move but [Name] just doesn’t open the gifts because they think that they should only open the one if the sender is who they have feelings for. So, they just give the gifts back to them.

[Name] does feel guilty about it since they had spend money on it but it’s basically useless since they don’t have feelings for the person and it would be weird to keep the gifts in general.

The manager saw the team looking behind the wall and approached them. “What are you guys doing here?” They asked as the team stiffened and look to the side. “Uhhh... we were... just watching..” Oikawa said as [Name] sighed and shook their head as the team got away from the wall and stood in front of them.

“Let’s go.”

“Yes.”

The five 3rd years walked together to the gym, it was quiet between the them when Matsukawa spoke. “You guys wanna grab ramen after practice?”

“Yeah.”

‘Sure.”

“Yeah.”

“Yes.”

“It’s Oikawa’s turn to treat us this time.” [Name] said as Oikawa flinched as he knew they would order the most expensive shit on the menu. 

“All right...”

Feathers, Crow, Fire, Stars - crown the sky above. Stand here and reach, between the realms of men. Crown the land below - Jewel, Sword, Fruit, Blossom.

The "Ten Prayers" spans the border between Karasuno and Aoba Johsai. Little is known about the way that it was built by the first settlers of Miyagi, only that travelers used to hold a ritual following each of the pillars on their way across. But their exact words have long joined the myths.

(Concept, Fic "All the King's Blades" & Art © me) -> AU Masterpost

Rule the Court Windowsill

Aka the Seijoh as plants AU that nobody asked for ~

[left to right: Rose Oikawa, Cactus Iwaizumi, Hemlock Yahaba, Onion Kindaichi, Thistle Kyoutani, Edelweis Watari, Ikea(TM) Palm Matsun, Dandelion Hanamaki, Venus Fly Trap Kunimi]

Art made by me, brought to you with the brainstorming power and moral support of the IwaOi BigBang server <3

'sup, suckers!? *lights blowtorch* The Volleyball Club sends its regards ~

(Forgive me for my sins >.< Anyway I needed to practice drawing humans a bit & get starting on my TropeFest Bingo, so have some genderbend MatsuHana ~ Can you tell that I haven’t done proper art in over 2 months and was too lazy to do anything but the bare minimum >.>? Baby steps... baby steps)

Never Change A Running System

Fandom: Haikyuu (My contribution to the @ngczine) Type: Short-Story (5.1k words) / Canon-Compliant Focus: Next Generation Seijoh Ships: no explicit mentions (but feel free to imagine the classics) Rating: General/Teen Up (for occasional swearing)

Summary:  Watari is starting to think something went wrong when all the new first years are coming to him instead of Yahaba - but maybe, considering that his best friend is busy taming a certain Mad Dog, the underclassmen's fear is justified.

Or: A story about how Yahaba, and with him all of Seijoh, struggles to fill out some big footprints 

Read on Ao3 -> Never Change A Running System

Download the zine for free -> Devoted

Preview:

“Watari-Senpai!?”

He looks up at the five first-years, presenting him with an assortment of items. The suction cup for uncovering the holes in the gym floor that harbour the net poles. The hand-full of pins used to secure the net. A whistle. An empty drink caddy. And a clipboard with nothing clipped to it.

“Yeah?”

“Where should we put this?”

Watari opens his mouth, then he stops, furrowing his brows, and looks around the gym.

Sure, he is a third-year now and technically a senpai, but still—there are other people better suited to ask such things. The captain for example. Or the vice-captain.

In retrospect, Watari should have been able to deduce the cause of their absence by simply listening.

After all, Yahaba is yelling at near peak volume, which is not nothing, but to Watari, yelling in the Aoba Johsai volleyball gym has become just another form of white noise after spending two years under the care of Iwaizumi Hajime.

His best friend has Kyotani in a headlock, shaking him viciously. The Mad Dog looks relatively unimpressed, face turned away, arms crossed over his chest, lips pursed in a silent ‘tsk’, giving short, snappy comments in response to the dressing down, which do nothing other than sprinkle oil into the fire.

Watari sighs—oh not again!

If he were a first-year, he’d not go anywhere near that either.

Then his fellow kings and him enter the room Hajime has dreaded for months. He doesn’t really know what he expected. Maybe a torture chamber with a thousand eyes painted onto the walls and the constant, hellish echo of people laughing at him, but the council chamber is just another, circular room, decorated with noble curtains and golden trinkets. ~ All the King‘s Blades, Chapter 2 - Challenge

-> AU Masterpost

Art and design made by me!!! Do not trace, copy, steal or heavily infringe!

Okay so I had this version almost finished, before trying to find the text passage in my draft for Chapter 2 where I described the room and noticed the fu*king “noble curtains” and because I am weak spirited, I just made 2 versions (please punch me). Anyways I swear I am working on actually writing the damn thing but AKJSDBCNALVNCF have I mentioned that I am WEAK!?

I got super lucky and was able to contribute a next-gen Seijoh fic to this awesome zine, so please go check it out (it’s free to download) and give lots of love to all the other amazing contributors!

Devoted_PDF.pdf

Hey all! You can view/download the zine from this link! Additionally, you can also get the merch from here: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1zz_RlyggF-K-n2P9p6iccpWKIPO6horq?usp=sharing

Thank you to everyone involved in this project!

Connections (SpikerSetter Week 2020)

Hello ladies and gents and welcome to my dumb brain struggling to actually  step out of my comfort zone here and write characters I usually don’t write so forgive the possible cringe u.u’’

Furthermore I am a moron who is unable to use a calendar and I confused the dates of DaiSuga Week with the ones for this event, so these come a bit late and will be continued irregularly, but here is a masterpost for my contributions to the @spikersetterweek!

-> Read on Ao3

More info on each day below the cut - the stories are generally rated Gen, though some might drift a bit in the direction of Teen And Up - no Mature or Explicit content though! // PLEASE NOTE: As of posting this blog, I have not yet written all the chapters, so the contents are still subject to change!

Day 1 - Struggle - Daichi/Suga They practise for weeks and yet their new synchronized attack just won't work. Sugawara is starting to doubt and works himself to the bone in order to figure out what he is missing.

Day 2 - Swap - Watari & Aoba Johsai Shinji Watari is not a bad setter, but he is no Oikawa Tooru either and in the shadow of a great name and a new friendship the Aoba Johsai first-year has to reflect on his pupose in a new team.

Day 3 - Separation - Hanamaki & Oikawa Hanamaki isn't sure if he believes in fated pairs, but what he definitely believes in is proofing people wrong and rubbing it in their faces afterwards - coincidently so does Oikawa and when they are accused of being useless when separated from Iwaizumi and Matsukawa, they set out to have the most epic day ever... all on their own!

Day 4 - Space - Bokuto/Akaashi (+ Kuro/Kenma) The year is 2168 and humanity has colonized the solar system. Space travel is available for the broad population and a new sport is gaining in popularity: Saturn Surfing. Akaashi Keiji isn’t really into any of this, but a job is a job and so he has to set out in order to sell a new and promising surfer some sponsorship deals - if only he knew that ‘rising star with wild boyish charm’ translates to ‘Bokuto Koutaru’, he would have taken more Ibuprofen on the trip!

Day 5 - Sacrifice - Shirabu & Ushijima (+ Semi & Tendou) Shirabu chose Shiratorizawa for a reason - even the simplest set will lead to victory! And while he was definitly right with that, he still has to discover that relying on an invicible ace does not mean he has to sacrifice his pride as a skilled setter.

Day 6 - Surprise - Koganegawa & Futakuchi (+ Dateko) All Koganegawa wants is for someone to be proud of him. Especially his captain! If only he could figure out how to earn Futakuchi's friendship.

Day 7 - Free Day - Honestly, I have no idea yet

*sleep deprived & drops more design stuff* *proceeds to bang head against wall* Yeah so as you can see I had a hard throwback to sweet, sweet childhood days when I loved to design maps for fantasy worlds (or create my own Pokemon regions, like seriously, I have an entire binder full of them)

-> AU Masterpost

More Info below the cut:

Miyagi: - The Miyagi continent is rather small and connected by land to the larger continents of Oita and Tokyo - It is dominated by three countries: Shiratorizawa, Aoba Johsai and Dateko - Lately, Karasuno and Wakunan have been widening their influence while Johzenji is withdrawing from continental politics under their new leadership - Miyagi has been a stable continent for centuries, due to Shiratorizawa's dominance and has therefore accumulated considerable wealth - Magic and the arcane have long left this continent, and except for myths and legends, have been mainly forgotten - The continent consists of kingdoms and smaller, independent dukedoms and principalities that do not have kings but are also not under the direct influence of one (typically lead by nobles of other status or councils of merchants as in Senseki and Kakugawa) 

More specific headcanons here (1 // 2 // 3 // 4) Tokyo: - The Tokyo continent is not very large on a global scale but has an enormous density of kingdoms - That and many wars over territory as well as constant clashes with its supernatural inhabitants have lead to the forming of a hand full of Alliances and Political Unions, the most influential being the Fukurodani Alliance and the Kingdom of Itachiyama with its subsidiaries - Ever since the establishments of these Unions, the continent has settled and the dispute has shifted from physical wars to diplomatic clashes - While handled differently from kingdom to kingdom, there are overall two coexisting governments - the human and the fae - living in cooperation More specific headcanons here

Better Quality and download -> Black/White, Color

Yes, I know, I know, I hate myself too EVEN MORE designs for my Haikyuu Royalty AU based of of @findingschmomo's fanfiction And All the Prince's Men on Ao3

-> Design Page 1: DaiSuga & Crow Steel -> Design Page 3: KageHina -> Check better quality version

More info and head canons below the cut:

Bit of background Info on Seijoh: - For centuries Aoba Johsai has been the cultural centre of Miyagi, attracting many travelers, scholars and artists - Hence they do not have a state religion and are considered a rather scientific country - this however does not mean that the population, especially in rural areas, are not supersticious, they just don't worship any deities or something of the similar - The Seijoh typically burry their dead and mark graves with more or less elaboratly carved stones - it is believed that the dead are happier burried under the open sky, hence constructions such as mausoleums, temples or crypts are very uncommon - Traitors, criminals or otherwise convicted people are typically executed and entombed in massgraves not worthy of individual markers - The complexity of the stone monuments errected depends heavily on the status of the deceased - commoners usually have a plaine slate, sometimes with little hand-crafted engravings, traders or wealthier people usually comission more elaborate gravestones and royals and nobles are typically remembered with larger sculptures, sometimes depicting the person themselves, sometimes in the form of stone trees or large flowers - Every child born into the royal family is automatically considered a royal with a claim for the throne - Princes and Princesses wear smaller jewlery such as tiaras or diadems to express their status - Kings and queens wear heavier crowns, usually rich in gemstones - Unless a King or Queen specifically requests to be entombed with their crown, it is usually up to their heir to decide whether they want to carry it on or have their own made - hence AobaJohsai too, has no official crown, but it can happen that one crown is worn over several generations - The "official" gems are the blue diamond and the grandiderite (exclusivly worn by royalty) often acompanied by saphires and white diamonds (symbol of status and nobility) and other blue stones (representing varying social statuses) - Crowns have more of a ceremonial purpose, typically worn at special events - Wealth and status are more commonly expressed through fashion - especially through accessories and gemstones as some kinds are only alowed to be worn by a certain rank of people Details on Iwaizumi's Stuff: - his crown is made from iron and white gold, the iron representing his service as a night and is adorned by a grandiderite - his blade is made from crow steel (more info here) - it was a gift from Karasuno, the engraving in the blade reads Seijoh ("Blue Castle") - with the lenghts of 110cm (aprox. 43.3 inch) it is only little shorter than average, but regarding the proportions, the blade is very broad and flat - the hilt is forged like an oak tree with the crown at the base of the blade and the roots forming the handle, capturing a grandiderite at the knob - the sheath is made from hardened leather and has another gemstone worked into it at the front Details on Oikawa's Stuff: - his crown is made from silver and white gold and is made, heavily resembling his mothers - it is very rich in gems, the two center pieces being a grandiderite and a blue diamond, surrounded by littler gems and additional saphires referring to his noble heritage - it is not a full crown, but open at the back of the head so that it can be slipped around his horns and doesn't get stuck on them - while also known to be an excelent swordsman, he is famous for his archery skills and therefore is mostly envisioned with a bow - his favourite bow is made from willow wood, wich is very flexible and able to withstand his demon strenght - with 120 cm (aprox. 47.2 inch) it is a longbow, complimenting his tall stature and allowing wide shots - it has metal ornaments on it, most prodominantly the oak leaves adorning the ends of the bow - the quiver is made from leather, altough he owns another, more elaborate and show worthy made from steel

A while back I read the truly amazing Haikyuu fan fiction And All the Prince’s Men by @findingschmomo.

And ever since, I had the inane desire to continue and expand the universe they created. So recently I asked and they gave me permission to do so and while I am currently trying to focus on my own works I really really want to put my ideas into writing some time. 

But to let off some creative steam in the mean time (and because my obligatory English classes are really freaking boring) I decided to sketch out my ideas for the kingdom banners/coats of arms and outline some head canons.

-> Batch 2: Dateko & Shiratorizawa -> Batch 3: Nekoma & Fukurodani

-> AU Masterpost

More Info below the cut:

Aoba Johsai:  - “Rule a Court of Thorns” - Willow Tree, Sword and Gemstones on turquoise and white ground - Main export: Jewelry, Flowers, Agricultural Products - Strong country with a lot of influence in Miyagi - Famous for their military strength - Aoba Johsai is the cultural center of the Miyagi continent and has been for centuries - due to the strong influence from travelers and scholars they are a rather scientific country without a common or state religion and rather many little scattered churches and temples

Karasuno: - “Rise, Fly High & Fight” - Three crows, crossed torches on black and orange ground - Main export: Quills, Meat Buns, Crow Steel (one of the rarest metals in Miyagi, said to have arcane qualities) - One of the smallest kingdoms on the Miyagi continent, lately rising rapidly in strength - Has a long and deep reaching relation to the arcane and religion, wich mainly focuses around the figure of death (thus the crossed torches, a common symbol for a gateway to the realm of the dead)

So I already apologize for the crappy lineart and my horrible handwriting but as I said I made those during courses and well yeah ^-^'’ Hope you like them, maybe I will make some more for the other “Important” players (being Shiratorizawa, Dateko, Fukurodani and Nekoma) - tell me if you’re interested.

You can look at better quality and download here:  Aoba Johsai and Karasuno