Moomin Valley Park, Saitama Prefecture
📷 Kyoko Ueda
The view across to Holy Island from Bamburgh Lighthouse. Located in Northumberland, England.
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Give time to life, not give life to time.
Taking a detour from their northern direction, Claude shows Turs the coast for the first time in the youngster's life.
Process and commentary on Patreon.
you are so fed up with the increasing demand and workload at your job as the head of public relations at a well-known and established media company. a secluded cabin surrounded by nature in a faraway town is just what you need to get your mind away from work, not knowing what you might encounter there…
pairing: lumberjack!hajime iwaizumi x f!reader (main), iwaoi (past)
series warnings: lumberjack!au, bisexual!iwa, virgin!reader, ex-boyfriend playboy!oikawa, fluff, angst, mutual pining, smut (in later chapters—nsfw 18+ mdni), aged-up characters, spoiler alert for some characters with the same post-timeskip jobs
notes: this work is written in collaboration with my amazing and wonderful fellow sinner, sister tina @kurinoot <3 odd chapters will be posted by me on this blog, while even chapters will be posted on her blog!
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masterpost ✿ chapter one ✿ chapter two ✿ chapter three ✿ chapter four ✿ chapter five ✿ chapter six ✿ chapter seven ✿ chapter eight ✿ chapter nine ✿ chapter ten ✿ chapter eleven ✿ chapter twelve (fin)
The restaurant he brings you to is nice, but if you’re pressed about details, you know you won’t be able to give any. You’re too busy being entranced with everything about Iwaizumi.
He had given you about an hour to get ready and it was the most stressful hour of your life. You had flung clothes everywhere, trying to find the perfect outfit to accentuate your figure but also to not make it seem like you were trying too hard. You settled on a light blue and white-striped summer dress that goes to your mid-thigh and dips low enough to show off your cleavage. By the time you had decided, you barely had time to fix your hair into a half-ponytail and put on light make-up before he knocked on the door again.
You don’t remember breathing when you swung the door open with the prettiest smile you could muster. You obviously must have because you’re still alive, but it’s no exaggeration to say Iwaizumi took your breath away for a moment. You had only ever seen him in his outdoorsy clothing—boots, plaid shirt, baggy jeans. But tonight he is wearing a tight black t-shirt underneath an open blue jacket, his hair gelled up to show off his Adonis-like features.
It’s not fair how fucking good-looking he is.
You were too busy ogling him to notice he was doing the exact same thing to you. Iwaizumi had to force his eyes away from the exposed skin around your chest and thighs when he first saw you. He can still practically feel your skin beneath his hands from when he’d helped you with your skirt the other day, his palms itching with the need to touch you again. The feeling of your soft body against his, the warmth of your back against his chest—he hasn’t been able to forget it. The car ride over was pure torture. He’d gripped his steering wheel much tighter than usual because he knew that if he didn’t, he would reach out and set a hand on your thigh.
He thought he might be okay at dinner, but under the dim lighting of Fukunaga’s restaurant, it’s even worse. You’re gorgeous underneath the little flower-shaped lamp lights, your eyes shining whenever he talks about himself and your smile brightening with every laugh at one of his stupid jokes. Iwaizumi can’t remember the last time someone was so interested in his stories—not his friends, not his family, and certainly not some dumbass named Tooru Oikawa. His ex-boyfriend had texted him again early that morning but he ignored it again, just like every other time. Oikawa didn’t deserve a spot in his mind, not when you sit before him looking like that.
He pours you another glass of wine which you accept graciously, taking a sip before you lean forward on your elbow
“So you’ve lived your entire life in this town then?”
“I grew up here, but I left for a few years to go to trade school. I came back after I graduated.”
“That sounds amazing,” you sigh wistfully, twirling the wine around in your glass. “I’ve always been in the city but being here… I can understand why people love this place.”
“Maybe you should think about staying,” he jokes, but there’s a weight to his words.
He wants you to stay. It’s only been a week and a few days but he’s comfortable with you; he loves talking to you and being with you, even if you’re not doing the same thing. He’s gotten used to having you around. Just the few days without hearing your flute or seeing your smile felt… empty and incomplete. It’s why he trudged along the familiar path through the woods that led to your rented cabin, hands stuffed in his pockets as he thought about what to say. It all ended with you, here, in front of him with a smile that could light up the galaxy, and he wouldn’t want it any other way.
“Does that mean you’re offering free use of your cabin?” you grin, setting your chin on your palm. “If so, I might take you up on your offer. I don’t think anybody would miss me too much back home anyway.”
Iwaizumi furrows his eyebrows as he stares at your slightly troubled expression. He doesn’t see what you mean—you’ve been nothing but wonderful to him so far and he will assuredly miss your company when you go (though he will never say that out loud. Ever.)
“But you’re great,” comes sputtering out of his mouth before he can catch it. When your eyes widen at his compliment, he scratches his cheeks to ward off the heat that turns his face pink.
Your face is even darker, cheeks flushed bright red. Does he know what he’s doing to you? He must not because he keeps making your heart go crazy and your stomach flip without even trying. It’s so nice to hear that someone cares about you. Between your crappy coworkers, your pushy boss, and a few ex-boyfriends who dumped you for working too much and “not caring about them,” you hadn’t realized just how lonely your life had become. You’re always surrounded by people when you work and yet you’ve never felt more alone in your life.
Until you came here and met the caretaker, who has treated you better in less than two weeks than your exes have for years.
“T-thank you,” you stutter, tucking some of your loose hair behind your ear. “I think you’re great too.”
You’re glad when someone calls Iwaizumi’s name so you can turn your head and try to calm yourself down. If he keeps looking at you with those piercing brown eyes and soft smile, you think you might actually lose your mind (or your panties, whatever comes first.) Sure, you’ve never slept with anybody, but that doesn’t mean you don’t know what arousal is—and Iwaizumi gives it to you in spades.
“Hey, how is everything?”
A apron-wearing man with short black hair and a suspicious lack of eyebrows stands before you, clapping a hand down on Iwaizumi’s shoulder.
“Hey Fukunaga,” Iwaizumi greets back. “Everything’s great as usual.”
“I’m glad to see you back here. I don’t think you’ve been since… you know.”
You know? You turn your head back to see Iwaizumi’s annoyed expression on his face. You want to ask about it but everything on his face currently screams I don’t want to talk about it. So you keep the question to yourself, chewing on your bottom lip to combat the awkwardness that’s bubbling in your stomach.
“Yeah, I’m showing her around,” Iwaizumi grumbles at his friend. “We’re about to head back though.”
Is Fukunaga an idiot? Iwaizumi tries to hide his scowl but he’s sure it’s useless. Why would he bring up Shittykawa while he’s literally on a date? There’s a twitch in his jaw from how hard he clenches to keep from snapping at his friend. While he appreciates their concern, he’s growing tired of everyone acting like Oikawa completely ruined him. He still has his job, his friends, and his dignity. He’s spent too much time putting his life back together to be reminded of his ex at every goddamn turn.
He chances a glance at you and, seeing your eyes awkwardly bouncing back and forth between the two of them, decides it’s definitely time to go. He stands and pats a hand on Fukunaga’s shoulder, thanking him one last time for the food before he turns to you and stretches out his hand. Your pretty eyes widen at the gesture, but you slip your hand into his, and he holds it the entire time he pays for the meal and slips outside. Your hands are small and cold compared to his big and warm ones, so he squeezes a little tighter, hoping that his warmth can transfer to you. He doesn’t dare look down at you—he doesn’t want you to see his pink-speckled cheeks or the grin he has to fight from rising to his face.
When you both step outside the restaurant and head over to his truck, you’re surprised to see someone leaning against the hood, his blue uniform signaling his policeman status. You falter in your step for a second because why is a policeman leaning on Iwaizumi’s car, but the caretaker only looks down at you with a small shake of his head.
“It’s only Sawamura-san, don’t worry.”
“Iwaizumi-san,” the handsome policeman says as he pushes off the car with a dazzling smile. Iwaizumi lets go of your hand to give Daichi a handshake and then a quick man hug. When the both of them turn to you, your cheeks heat up and you offer a little wave in return. “Who’s this?”
“My dinner date. L/N Y/N.”
The word ‘date’ makes you bite your lip to stop the growing smile on your lips. You introduce yourself and he does the same, before Daichi turns to Iwaizumi and pats a hand on his shoulder.
“You have a busted tail light. Someone must have bumped it and run.”
“Just my luck,” Iwaizumi grumbles before he raises an eyebrow. “Were you waiting around to tell me that?”
“Haven’t seen you in a while. I thought I’d say hi.”
There’s a look on Daichi’s face that makes Iwaizumi want to punch it off. His friend doesn’t name Oikawa but the implication is loud and clear.
Haven’t seen you in a while, not since Oikawa cheated on you.
Is this going to happen every time he comes out now? This is why he sticks to his logs and woodworking deep in the forest, where no one can bug him about shitty ex-boyfriends who can’t keep their dick dry.
“Thanks. I’ll head over to Bokuto’s.”
“It was nice to meet you, L/N-san,” Daichi offers with a tip of his policeman’s hat. “Hopefully I’ll be seeing you around.”
“Yes, you too! Thank you!”
As soon as Daichi is back in his police car, Iwaizumi turns to you with an awkward scratch to the back of his head. “Sorry about this. The garage shouldn’t take too long.”
“I don’t mind!” you chirp happily before clearing your throat. “Really, take all the time you need.”
How are you supposed to tell him that you don’t mind because you want to spend more time with him? Dinner was great but the thought of going back to the cabin alone makes you want to pout. Iwaizumi is handsome, attentive, caring, a good talker and a good listener. He checks off nearly every box you have on your checklist for a perfect partner—the only thing missing is sexual compatibility.
The thought makes you shift in your seat, rubbing your thighs together. You might still be a virgin but you’re no stranger to pleasure, and Iwaizumi looks like he could highly satisfy you.
I shouldn’t be thinking about him like this, you chastise yourself but it’s no use. Your mind wanders to all the possibilities. What would it be like if he pulled you into his chest and kissed you until you couldn’t breathe? What would his warm, calloused hands feel like on your bare skin as he ran his hands up and down your body? What would his thick fingers feel like inside your wet cunt, pumping with precision as he stared at you with those piercing eyes, demanding that you cum for him?
“Oi, we’re here.”
Oh Lord, what am I thinking?
The lights are still on in the garage, and as soon as Iwaizumi pulls up to the building, three heads poke their heads out of the open front gate. As soon as they recognize the car and see Iwaizumi pop out, they come outside, loudly hollering their greetings.
“Hey, hey, hey, Iwaizumi!” Bokuto greets with a big wave.
Hinata follows behind him with his usual happy grin. “What are you doing here, Iwaizumi-san?”
“Tail light’s busted. Can you fix it?”
“Easily. Hinata, grab the stuff!”
The two of them disappear to fix the car, which leaves the third and most dangerous man—Tetsurou Kuroo. He’s grinning down at you with his cat-like eyes and grin. Iwaizumi feels a streak of something dark run through his body when Kuroo asks, “Who’s this pretty lady?”
You introduce yourself and as soon as you do, Iwaizumi thinks, Kuroo better back off.
That’s when he realizes exactly what the something dark was.
He’s jealous that Kuroo thinks he can flirt with you. But she’s not even yours yet, he yells at himself in his mind but his stupid heart doesn’t listen.
“Can we sit inside while Bokuto fixes the car?” Iwaizumi asks, and Kuroo’s knowing eyes flick between him and you before he gestures inside.
“Sure, sure. Couch on the right is free as usual.”
The room smells like oil, grease, and the heavy masculine odor of sweat as you take a seat on the couch. It’s small enough that when Iwaizumi sits down next to you, his leg brushes against yours and makes you shiver. He sets one of his arms on the back of the couch, turning to you with a small smile.
“Sorry. I bet you’re feeling overwhelmed.”
“Oh no!” You placate him, shaking your head. “Your friends all seem really nice.”
Since you already met Kuroo, Iwaizumi tells you about Bokuto and Hinata before he adds, “These aren’t even my best friends. You’ll meet them tomorrow.”
Your stomach flutters at the thought of being together tomorrow too. It’s not like you have plans, after all, but having him state so openly that he wants to meet you tomorrow as well sends your heart into a frenzy.
“Well, uh, only if you want.”
“I’d love to,” you shyly smile, setting your hand on Iwaizumi’s thigh. You don’t know why you do it—it just seems so natural to touch him—and he freezes for a moment before covering your hand with his.
He holds it on his thigh as you both talk about his workload this week, how he met his friends, and what you can do tomorrow, until Bokuto hollers that they’re done and you can get on your way.
When Iwaizumi drops you off at the cabin, he parks the car and even walks you to the door like a true gentleman, waiting until you unlock it before he says goodbye.
“I’ll pick you up at 11. Bring your flute, if that’s okay?”
“Oh, sure!” You agree, and with a strange sense of confidence, you lean up and press a chaste kiss to Iwaizumi’s cheek. “Thank you. Um, for dinner and introducing me. Have a good night!”
Iwaizumi is glad your back is turned to him because he knows for a fact his cheeks are the color of roses, too stunned to move for a solid thirty seconds.
Iwaizumi’s old high school buddies love your flute playing just as much as he does. You shuffled through the sheet music you brought with you and played a short, 15 minute medley for them. In exchange, the coffee shop owner Kindaichi gave free sandwiches to you, Iwaizumi, and his two other friends, namely Hanamaki and Matsukawa.
Lunch is a lively affair, full of old stories from high school and beyond. You’re content to listen to them joke with each other about old memories, but halfway through your sandwich, Kindaichi turns to you with a smile.
“So who else have you met here?”
“Oh, um,” you tap your finger to your lips as you think about it. “Bokuto-san, Kuroo-san, Hinata-san, Sawamura-san, Fukunaga-san? I hope those are their names. There were so many people.”
“Then you noticed how Shorty follows Bokuto around like a lost puppy?” Hanamaki leans forward on an elbow with a mischievous grin. “That’s because they’re fucking.”
“That’s news to me,” Iwaizumi snorts behind his smoothie.
“How do you know that?” Kindaichi questions.
“My job is to know everyone’s drama.”
“That job doesn’t pay my rent, Makki,” Matsukawa deadpans, pulling his box of cigarettes out of the front pocket of his shirt.
“Shut up, man,” Makki grumbles.
You giggle along with the other boys’ laughs and Matsukawa, or Mattsun as he is called, excuses himself for a smoke. The conversation switches to what you’re going to do the remaining few days you have left and honestly you aren’t sure. You're torn between wanting to spend it with Iwaizumi and his friends because they’re so welcoming and kind, but another part of you feels bad for taking up so much of his free time for your own selfish desires.
“I’ll probably hang around town, if it’s okay with everyone else. I forgot what it’s like to have friends.”
“You don’t have friends?” Hanamaki raises an eyebrow. “I don’t believe that for a minute.”
“I mean, I have friends!” Your cheeks go slightly pink at your slip-up. “But I work a lot so it’s difficult to meet them.” Then, looking down at your drink, you add: “It’s also not good for my love life.”
“Maybe you need someone who knows what it means to work hard,” Kindaichi offers.
Iwaizumi doesn’t miss the way his friend’s eyes flick over to him with a smirk. At least with his old high school crew, they know better than to bring Oikawa up in front of the new person he likes. He watches you interact with his friends with the ghost of a smile on his face. It’s like you have been their friend for a long time already, the way you bounce back jokes and listen to their stories. It’s nice to have someone care—Shittykawa would smile to their face then spend the car ride home telling him he could find a better circle of friends than a mortician, a coffee shop owner, and someone who’s always in between jobs.
Matsukawa’s voice catches his attention and he turns toward the front door. His friend has a serious look on his face and he clenches his phone between his fingers.
“Oikawa just called me.”
Iwaizumi curses under his breath and stands, mumbling that he’ll be right back before he follows Matsukawa out the front door. You blink at the empty chair he once sat in before tilting your head at Hanamaki and Kindaichi.
“Uh…” Hanamaki scratches at his cheek but doesn’t elaborate.
“You should ask Iwaizumi-san about that one,” Kindaichi smiles, but you notice it’s extremely awkward and doesn’t reach his eyes.
The name Oikawa repeats in your head all afternoon, even after Iwaizumi and Matsukawa come back inside and you finish your lunches. Iwaizumi takes you around town for a little while before you end up at a small park that overlooks a lake. Even as you walk around together, hands brushing much too many times for it to be a coincidence, Oikawa floats around in your head, plaguing your thoughts.
Who is he? Why did Iwaizumi look so annoyed when his name was mentioned? Does Oikawa have anything to do with why all of Iwaizumi’s friends keep saying awkward things like Fukunaga did?
Halfway along the path that wraps around the lake, Iwaizumi’s phone rings and interrupts the story he was telling. He fishes it out of his pocket with an apology but as soon as he checks the name, his face darkens and his jaw sets. The shift in his previously happy demeanor is impossible to ignore.
“Can you give me a minute?” he requests, and as soon as you nod, he walks a few steps back and answers.
You watch the birds play in the lake water for a minute or two before Iwaizumi’s angry voice makes you look over.
“Would you knock it off? Don’t even fucking think about coming up here. I’m done with you and nothing will change that.” There’s a pause before he continues even louder. “I’m fucking serious, Oikawa. I want nothing to do with you. Stop bugging my friends and leave me the fuck alone.” Another pause, this time longer. Iwaizumi’s voice drops but you can still hear it over the stillness of nature around you. “No, I don’t think about you anymore. Don’t call me again.”
Oikawa? There's that name again.
When he hangs up the phone and looks your way, you pretend you weren’t eavesdropping on his conversation and turn your body back to the lake to watch the birds again. You hear him sigh, and only when he is next to you again do you turn and try to give him your best smile.
“Is everything alright?”
“Yeah everything is fine. Just someone who shouldn’t be calling me anymore.” Iwaizumi scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, his face pinched like he’d sucked down a lemon. “Can I take you back?”
“Oh, of course,” you readily agree, following him back to his truck. Your hands don’t brush against each other the entire way back and you notice that he grips the steering wheel much more tightly than he normally does.
Obviously, Oikawa and Iwaizumi have a history. You want to ask, just like Kindaichi told you to, but the look on Iwaizumi’s face screams ask me if you want to die. It’s the same look he had yesterday at the restaurant, the same one that made you go quiet when he and Fukunaga were talking. Even though the name Oikawa rings in your head like an alarm, the words are lost on your lips, and you both don’t speak a word until Iwaizumi pulls into the driveway of your rented cabin.
“Tomorrow I have to sand the table I built this morning,” he finally speaks before you can get out of the car. “I’ll be in our usual spot if you want to come.”
Our usual spot. Before the phone call, those words alone would have made you nearly leap out of your skin with happiness. Now the bitter question lingers: was it his and Oikawa’s usual spot, too? As soon as you think it, your body goes cold like you fell into the lake at the park. Why does it matter anyways? In three days’ time, you’ll be back home and away from Iwaizumi anyway, won’t you? Two weeks is almost nothing in the long run, and although you can’t deny the feelings you harbor for the caretaker, he’s realistically still a virtual stranger to you. There’s so much you don’t know about him—so much that’s closed off to the people around him. It makes your heart hurt.
“Sure,” you respond with a smile and a quiet, “thank you for the day. I had a lot of fun.”
Iwaizumi watches you enter his cabin and shut the door behind you before he lays his head down on the steering wheel and curses. Shitty-fucking-kawa always ruining everything for him, even after their breakup a few months ago. He just doesn’t know when to fucking quit.
No, this time will be different. Iwaizumi swears it.
He won’t let Oikawa win this time, not if he can help it.
Byron Bay, Australia 🇦🇺
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Dramatic sky on Ben Lomond Peak! Wasatch Mountains, Northern Weber County, UT, USA 16 April 2021. 😎