#Oikawa Tōru x reader

[chimielie]

oh my god, they were roommates

part 2 to and they were roommates. no cws, just silliness.

you're not talking to tooru.

he's not sure how you manage it so effectively. you eat all your meals in your room while he's home, except for when you manage to sneak from there to the door while he's in the bathroom. his only clue that you've gone out is that you leave your bedroom door open when you do, really hammering home how empty his life suddenly is.

"even when we're in the same room," he sighs, resting his cheek on his fist. "it's like trying to grab a fish out of the water. i turn around or blink and poof! gone!"

"your sleeve is dipping into your drink," says his date. "and i really think you need to discuss this with your roommate. at home. alone."

tooru waves goodbye forlornly as they stand up and walks out of the restaurant, leaving behind a half-eaten ball of rice and a broken man.

"you are like a sad, sad," akaashi says, pausing to really linger on the word sad, "wet cat. please stop bringing your dates here to mope about—to them. you are forming bad associations between our business and your terrible romantic etiquette."

akaashi keiji is a mangaka now, or an editor for one, anyway; he works at onigiri miya (tokyo location) on the side because it's the only way he routinely leaves the house; tooru brings his dating drama here to brighten up what must surely be a terribly boring life.

"what would you do without me, akaashi-kun," tooru stretches his arms high with a languid sigh that makes akaashi worry that he has comprehended none of his words. "wouldn't you be so miserable if you didn't have me to bring romance and excitement to your life?"

"i have a boyfriend of several years," akaashi says, which is rude to remind tooru of while he's in such a vulnerable state. "i have plenty of excitement with him in my life."

"inconsiderate!" tooru snorts. "please break up with him to show me solidarity."

"i will not be doing that." akaashi picks up the nameless and now-vanished date's plate and takes a bite out of the leftover food.

"understandable," tooru nods, "that's very reasonable. i just don't know what to do, or how to fix it, or what i did wrong."

"you come in here every other night to whine about what you did wrong."

"do not."

"do too," akaashi sticks out his tongue at him. there's a grain of rice stuck to his lip. "you spent several months going out on dates trying to make your friend-turned roommate jealous—during which, I'll note, you basically exclusively talked about the person you were and continue to be obsessed with—then initiated... romantic physical contact, then ran away. because you have the attachment style of a stray cat."

"ah, akaashi-kun," tooru says. "are you saying i get around?"

"i am saying you are lurking outside the window and begging for attention and then biting the hand that feeds you when you get it.”

“oh.” tooru is quiet for a moment. “can i get the check?”

“it’s on the house if you’ll just go home and talk to your roommate and never come back here with another date.” akaashi says, finishing off the onigiri.

“deal.”

your room is empty, your bedroom door ajar when he comes home. mournfully, tooru sits on the bed, reminiscing over the hours he'd spent gossiping with you here.

he'll just wait for you to get back. when he used to take you dancing—with your other friends, but you'd wind your arms around his neck and he'd run light hands over your waist, your hips, and you would look at him like no one else even existed—you always wanted to leave before midnight. it's ten-forty-nine now, according to his watch, so he's sure you'll be back before long.

you get home at two-oh-four. you had never seen the point in staying out longer when going home and chatting over a bowl of cheesy noodles with tooru was so much more appealing—you didn't want to dance with anyone else anyway. now, though, you don't want to be home, and you have something to prove. to who, you're not sure, but you find yourself staying out later and later.

even though you always return home alone. you'd thought about really upping the ante, about moving on as abruptly as possible, but you couldn't. it felt like going too far in this petty revenge game. after all, you still—

you stop short, dropping your shoes on the floor. the devil is in your bed, lying on his side, knees tucked to his chest to fit his absurdly long frame. his breaths are even and deep, his face peaceful.

"oh, tooru," you sigh, and climb over him to tuck yourself against his warm side.

you blink your eyes open slowly, sleep still gleaming in the corners of your vision. there's a weight on your hip and something that smells really, really good surrounding you, nearly lulling you back to sleep.

"oh, please don't," says a voice you haven't heard in days. "my arm's circulation has been completely cut off. i may never serve again."

you jolt away from the soft source of warmth, which you realize belatedly is oikawa's chest.

"what happened?" you say, swiping at your face with the back of your hand.

he looks frustratingly perfect as always, brown hair rumpled, eyes soft like you aren't in the biggest spat of your friendship.

"i was waiting for you," he admits, leaning on his side and casting his eyes down, his lashes shadowing his high cheekbones. "because i wanted to apologize, to be clear. i must have fallen asleep, and then i woke up, and it was like—"

"yes," you cough. "i see. um."

"i'm sorry," he says. "hey, look at me. i'm really sorry."

"for what, oikawa?" you laugh nervously.

"for being stupid," he rolls one shoulder in a shrugging motion. "for trying to make you jealous and instead just being, like, a complete fucking clown during all of it."

"make me jealous?" you say, blinking at him.

"please don't look at me like that," he says, scrubbing over his face with the hand that's not propping up his head. "it-you make me nervous."

"we've been friends for years," you say, still apparently lost. "how can i make you nervous?"

"you always will," he laughs, but it's strained. "look—i like you. probably more, but i'm trying not to scare you—any more than i already have, i mean. i'm not sorry for kissing you, is what i mean. i should just—i should probably go."

"wait," you say firmly before he can untangle himself from your sheets. putting a hand on his shoulder and pushing yourself up to meet his lips, which are soft and dry and parted slightly with surprise.

the kiss is warm and lingers, even after you pull away. tooru stares at you with dazed eyes that make you shy, dropping your own. his voice is quiet but hopeful, contrasting his words in tone when he speaks.

"what the fuck?"

[19calicos]

street style – oikawa tooru ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

tell me, lately, do i drive you crazy?

he's out in shibuya in his best clothes every night hoping to spot them, just so he can prove that he's more than a bad outfit turned into a viral meme.

status: in development, coming soon

content: streetwear photographer! yn x influencer! oikawa, gn reader with theythem pronouns, both yn and oikawa are internet famous, slowburn, strangers to one-sided enemies to lovers, university au, oikawa chasing yn, sassy but down bad oikawa

warnings: language, kms/kys/die jokes, usage of weed + alc + cigs, stan twitter and the damn internet lmfaooo, some miscommunication, fears of perception + social anxiety themes, feelings will be played with

tags are added as story progresses, please check cw on individual chapters!

( ✶ ) denotes written portions.

say hello! – cuntology degree havers & tofu not tooru

table of contents:

1 ₊⁺ an ultimatum

2 ₊⁺ tba

taglist: open! (27/50)

send an ask/reply to join & pls check your visibility settings!

divider by @/plutism :-)

[admiringlove]

promise. woah. i never thought i'd be putting out works so quickly again, but here we are. back to back, for @angstober. anyway. here is the third angsty fic in this little thing i'm doing. hope you all like it! event masterlist can be found here.

“what do you want to wish for?”

oikawa tōru asked, his voice a soft whisper against the night sky as the two of you sprawled out on the rooftop of your home. it felt like a scene pulled from a dream, the kind of adventure only found in childhood fantasies. giggles bubbled from your lips as you had climbed out of your window, heart racing with the thrill of rebellion, helping him scale the side of your house like an agile cat burglar.

the world below was muted, but up here, the stars seemed to dance, twinkling brightly as if they were in on your secret. you both lay there, side by side, under the vast expanse of night, the air filled with the sweet scent of freedom. though the sky was an infinite canvas of beauty, your gaze was drawn to oikawa’s moonlit features—his hair shimmering like stardust, his smile a beacon of warmth that wrapped around you like a comforting blanket.

“i don’t know. maybe… being friends with you forever?” you replied, the words tumbling out in a rush, your voice bubbling with innocent delight. “this is kinda fun! i want to do things like this all the time for my whole life.”

you giggled, feeling like a child again, wide-eyed and wonderstruck at twelve years old. oikawa grinned at you, that infectious smile that had the power to light up the darkest of nights. he had promised you then, with all the certainty of youth, that he would always be by your side. that nothing would ever change between the two of you, that your bond would remain untouched by the swirling chaos of the world.

in that moment, nestled under the cosmos, everything felt perfect. like the stars had conspired to grant your wish, sealing it in the universe's embrace as you both lay there, suspended in time.

but as the seasons turned, so did everything else. you grew older, and with that maturity came the inevitability of change. oikawa tōru, your childhood companion, blossomed under the weight of ambition, his dreams stretching far beyond the horizons you once shared. alongside his aspirations, his ego swelled, filling every space between you with a shadow of what once was.

he broke his promise a total of five times—each one a quiet dagger to your heart. five moments that etched themselves into your memory, forever lingering like echoes of laughter on a summer breeze.

the first promise shattered like glass was the one where he vowed to always stick by your side. you never imagined that the flickering flame of fame would ignite a fire so fierce it would consume him whole. oikawa was yours; he was your tōru, the boy who knew his limits and cherished the bond you shared. but the allure of the spotlight was intoxicating, and soon it became clear that he loved the limelight more than he loved the friendship you had built.

you had always envisioned him as a star, but this was a different kind of brightness—a dazzling glow that captivated all, leaving you standing in the shadows. the ooh's and aah's of admirers surrounded him like a halo, and while it stung at first, you learned to tolerate it, just as iwaizumi had. after all, the two of you loved oikawa in your own ways, even if those affections took different forms.

you loved him with a quiet intensity, a flame that flickered softly in the background, while iwaizumi’s was a roaring fire of loyalty and friendship. yet, it still hurt to watch the setter receive countless confessions, to see him chase fleeting romances with girls whose names you struggled to remember. each time he embraced someone new, you felt a pang of loss, but you buried that pain deep within, telling yourself that his life was his own. you had no rights over him, no claim on the heart that seemed to drift further away with each passing day.

in those moments, you stood on the sidelines, a spectator to a performance that was supposed to include you but had become a solo act. it was a bittersweet reality, one that twisted your insides with every laugh he shared with someone else, every moment that felt just out of reach.

“you know he’s a little slow on the uptake, right? he’s not the brightest when it comes to feelings. you’ll be fine, don’t worry,” iwaizumi often reassured you, trying to soften the blow. but deep down, both of you knew the truth: the great oikawa tōru would never see you the way you saw him.

the second promise he broke was to always remember you. once high school began, oikawa seemed to forget you, as if you had become invisible. even though you’d carved out a place in his life, it felt like you were no longer a priority. being the manager of his volleyball club wasn’t enough; you needed him to be as present in your life as he was in your thoughts.

he forgot you time and again. plans to meet at the local diner vanished as he canceled for a date with someone else. those fleeting encounters always ended in disappointment for him, as the demands of volleyball crushed any chance of a real relationship. even simple invitations to hang out with friends were brushed aside in favor of practice.

it was like this with him. distance that you loathed and his presence that you loved. someone who had become unreachable so slowly, it felt like poison flooding your veins and oxygen healing your mind at the same time.

"you love oikawa, don’t you?" mattsun’s voice broke through the chatter one day as the three of you walked behind the rest of the group. your heart raced, eyes widening as you grabbed his tricep tightly, whispering urgently, “don’t say it out loud! what if someone hears?”

“dude, everybody knows,” hanamaki chimed in with a laugh, “it’s just oikawa who’s clueless.”

the revelation lingered in your mind for days. was your affection for tōru really that transparent, so obvious that the whole world could see it—except him? the thought weighed heavily on you. did he purposely ignore the signs, or was he genuinely too dense to notice? it was a confusing puzzle you couldn’t seem to solve, even after turning it over in your mind countless times.

the third promise he broke to you was the one that stung the most: that he would always make time for you. as the weeks turned into months, you noticed how his busy schedule seemed to consume him, leaving little room for your friendship. he used to carve out moments for you, laughing and sharing secrets, but those moments had dwindled to almost nothing. still, you clung to the hope that he would realize how much you meant to him and return to your side.

the relentless teasing from makki and mattsun didn’t help either. their playful jabs seemed to dig deeper, amplifying the distance between you and oikawa. it was clear that their antics only annoyed him more, and each laugh felt like a fresh reminder of how things used to be.

you found yourself questioning where everything had gone wrong. you replayed every interaction in your mind, convinced that you had done everything right. you had been the dutiful friend, standing by him during his insecurities, especially when he struggled with that junior a few years back. you had supported him through thick and thin, cheering him on during his victories and comforting him during his defeats. so why was this bitterness directed solely at you? the confusion and hurt gnawed at you, leaving you feeling like a ghost in a friendship that once felt so vibrant and alive.

the fourth was that you would be important to him, always.

you felt as if you had faded into the background, no longer even a side character in the unfolding story of his life. gone were the moments when he would light up at the sight of you; now, he barely spared you a glance. sometimes, during practice, he might meet your eyes for a fleeting second when you called out corrections or offered advice to the team. other times, when you passed out water bottles, his hand would brush against yours for a split second before he flinched away, as if your touch were something toxic.

the realization hit hard: you must have done something wrong, but the weight of that unknown burden only deepened your confusion. what had changed? what had driven a wedge between you?

when you confided in mattsun about oikawa's reaction, he refused to believe you. makki simply laughed, teasing you for being "delusional," as if your feelings were unfounded. but you knew what you saw—how oikawa's face had briefly twisted in disgust before he pulled his hand away. it felt like a betrayal, like a silent confirmation of everything you feared.

that’s when makki devised a plan to lock you in the broom closet with oikawa, insisting it would clear the air between you two. you warned them against it, certain that oikawa would be furious, but their laughter drowned out your concerns.

the next day, as you were putting away cleaning supplies, tōru's voice suddenly broke through the mundane silence behind you. “makki said you wanted to speak to me about something- hey! open the goddamn door!” his voice boomed, frustration evident in every syllable as he pounded his fist against the wood.

your heart raced as you stood there, wide-eyed, mouth opening and closing in a mix of panic and disbelief. finally, you managed to reply, “they did this on purpose. just let it be. mattsun will open the door in a bit.” your voice was barely a whisper, uncertainty coursing through you as the reality of the situation settled in.

“but why? this is just stupid and annoying, and i really don’t want to be here. i have to be somewhere right now,” he complained, groaning as he slid down the wall and settled onto the floor. the weight of his irritation hung heavily in the air, making it hard to breathe.

you stood there for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest. biting your lip, you mustered the courage to ask, “do you hate me?”

“what?” oikawa blinked in surprise, his expression a mix of confusion and disbelief. “the heck does that mean?”

“it’s a simple question,” you pressed, determination lacing your words. “do you hate me?”

“no?” he replied, shrugging as if it were the most casual thing in the world. “i don’t think of you enough to feel anything.”

the bluntness of his words hit you like a physical blow. it stung more than you’d anticipated, a sharp pang of hurt that settled deep in your chest. in that moment, you realized the days when he would boast about being your best friend—someone who understood every nook and cranny of your life—were truly over.

here you were, still gazing at him with the belief that he held the strings that commanded the universe, while he seemed to regard you as an afterthought. you felt invisible, like a ghost haunting the periphery of his life, and the realization that he didn’t spare you a single thought throughout his day crushed your spirit.

“right,” you whispered, the words barely escaping your lips. “sorry I asked.”

he shrugged, nonchalant, and you called out, “mattsun? open the door, please?”

the door swung open immediately, and you heard the thudding footsteps of your friends dashing away, eager to avoid oikawa’s wrath. stepping out of the broom closet, you felt a heavy weight settle on your chest, and you walked away before he could say anything, needing space to breathe.

maybe makki was right. maybe you were delusional.

the fifth and final promise—or perhaps lie—was that he would always be by your side and never hurt you, no matter what.

now, here you were, standing behind him in the gym after they had lost to karasuno. oikawa kept serving the ball over and over, pretending to receive it again and again until he could finally get it right. he couldn’t understand what he did wrong, and the tension hung thick in the air. iwaizumi was there with you, attempting to coax the setter into stopping, but nothing worked. all you could do was watch as he spiraled into frustration, destroying himself with each failed attempt, wracked with the belief that he wasn’t trying hard enough—that he wasn’t good enough.

“oikawa, that’s enough!” you called, stepping toward him and grabbing his arm gently. “come on, let’s go home. it’s dark out-”

“let go of me!” he shouted, jerking his arm away. in his sudden movement, he lost his balance and fell hard onto the gym floor. a yelp escaped his lips, and without a second thought, you crouched down to his level, instinctively reaching out to help him.

“are you okay? come on, let’s get to the nurse’s office. they probably still have some medicine or sprays-”

“i don’t need you parading over me like a fucking basket case!” he yelled, the frustration spilling over in his voice. “i’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. i’m not a loser!”

“oi, watch it,” iwaizumi’s voice cut through the tension, firm yet concerned. “be glad someone’s still trying to help you.”

“well, i hate them! i hate them for pitying me, and i hate them for sticking around in my life like a fucking housefly!” he snapped, gritting his teeth as he struggled to stand. you knew he had likely sprained his knee in the fall, and you reached out, grabbing his shoulder to steady him as he wobbled. your lips pressed into a thin line, resolute but unreadable.

“let’s go to the nurse’s office,” you said, your voice devoid of any emotion. iwaizumi stepped closer, ready to take your place, but you shook your head.

“i got this. don’t worry. you pack up; I’ll get his knee wrapped and go home.”

the resolve in your voice echoed in the gym, a quiet determination amid the chaos surrounding you. oikawa stared at you, uncertainty flickering across his features, but you knew you couldn’t let him fall apart. not now.

you walked alongside him, your grip tightening around his arm whenever he faltered, fighting to maintain his balance. as you reached the nurse's office, you pushed the door open, the quiet space greeting you with a sense of foreboding. you knew the room would be empty at this hour, so you guided oikawa to sit on one of the beds, his weight leaning heavily against you.

you stepped toward the cabinet, your heart pounding in your chest as you reached up to retrieve the relief sprays and bandages. when you turned back, you found oikawa staring at you, disbelief etched across his features as you approached. slowly, you knelt before him, examining his knee, which was already starting to bruise ominously.

“why are you doing this? i just said i hate you,” he muttered, his voice wavering. you didn’t reply, keeping your lips pressed together in a straight line as you focused on the ugly discoloration forming on his skin. gently, you sprayed the cooling relief over the bruise, and he flinched at the sensation, a wince crossing his face.

the silence in the room felt unbearable, an agonizing pause hanging between you like a chasm. finally, you whispered, “i’ll bandage you up, and then iwa-san will take you home.”

“say something!” he snapped, his voice piercing through the stillness and making you clench your jaw. you finally met his gaze, frustration bubbling to the surface. “what the hell do you even want me to say? you don’t have enough time in your day to think of me while i was in love with you all along! and now i’ve just found out you hate me when i don’t even know what the fuck i’ve done. so pray tell, what exactly do you want me to say to you? what do you think is left?”

he blinked, mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air, before mumbling something unintelligible under his breath. irritation flared within you, and you raised an eyebrow. “hello? i don’t have superhuman hearing. you’re going to have to speak up if you want me to hear what you have to say.”

“i thought you were different!” he shouted, his voice echoing in the small room. the force of his words caught you off guard, and you blinked in surprise. before you could respond, he continued. “i thought our relationship would stay the same, but you started liking me like everyone else. i thought you weren’t any different.”

“you’re a dumb fucking idiot,” you retorted, stepping back from him, your heart racing. incredulous laughter bubbled up from your chest, a mix of disbelief and anger. “are you serious? you made me think you hated me just because i fell in love with you? oikawa, what is wrong with you?”

“i don’t know, i just—”

“did you ever stop and think about the fact that i never did anything about my feelings because i respected your goals in life?” you challenged, your eyes narrowing. your frustration turned into sharp words. “did you ever use your brain? or do you only pretend to have one in front of other people?”

he blinked at you, the realization dawning on his face as he struggled to formulate an apology. but you shook your head, cutting him off. “save it. i’m done with you. and i’m done with this stupid club. i quit.”

you walk toward the door, each step feeling heavier than the last, as if the weight of your emotions is anchoring you down. for a fleeting moment, a part of you wishes he would call out to you, that the twelve-year-old boy who once convinced you to climb onto your roof to stargaze would surface again, pleading for you to stay. but that part of him is gone, replaced by the distance that has grown between you.

you pause briefly at the entrance, your hand lingering on the doorknob. a sigh escapes your lips, a mix of relief and sorrow, before you finally push the door open and step into the hallway. the quiet thud of the door closing behind you resonates in the stillness, a finality that feels like an unspoken farewell.

as you walk away, the realization sinks in: oikawa tōru was never yours to begin with. he was a comet streaking across the sky, brilliant and untouchable, while you were left on the ground, staring up at him in awe, wishing for a connection that was never meant to be.

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[wordsofelie]

🌌The stars he left in the sky

Oikawa x f!reader

Summary: The stars he left in the sky are nothing compared to the footprints he etched on the earth.

or when you fall in love with Oikawa Tooru, only to have your heart collapse into his orbit.

Sequel:🎋The footprints he etched on the earth

Content warnings: angst, high school & time skip setting, manga spoilers, swearing

Words count: 4.5k

You shouldn’t have been impressed by stars. After all, they were just distant objects burning quietly in the void, destined to explode in silence. Yet, every time you looked at them, a feeling of greatness gripped you.

But they were out of reach. You knew that. You would never touch them; they were bound to the laws of science. You had known this since childhood.

And it made sense, really. Stars exist on a scale far beyond your own. So why did you ever think you could change that? Why did you let yourself believe you could stand beside one? Naivety had swept you up, convincing you that proximity was possible. But no matter how far you stretched your arm in their direction, they remained a universe away. And so did he.

You met Oikawa Tooru during your second year of high school, a time when everything seemed to fall into place for you. You were diligent, sharp, and unassuming—the perfect daughter, the good student, the nice friend. Life was predictable and neatly organised. You weren’t really popular in school, didn’t really care about romance and boyfriends. You just had a normal life, and you were fine with it. But that’s precisely why you found it strange when he, the infamous volleyball captain and your senpai, started taking an interest in you.

Your eyes met his for the first time when you went to the third years floor to discuss a club matter with someone from his class. He got up from his chair the second you called for your clubmate’s name.

“She’s not here. Should I deliver a message for you, chibi-chan?” He spoke.

You found the nickname weird but tried not to look flustered by it.

“I…yes. Thanks, I guess.” And you handed him a paper, he looked at it with attention.

“You’re in the baking club, huh?” He read on the paper, “would you bake me milk bread someday?”

You tried to ignore the pressure coming from his classmates glaring at you, “Sure, if you want, Oikawa-senpai.”

Before you could leave the classroom, he asked for your name because “it’s only fair since you already know me.” And his charming smile made your ears warm.

After that, he often came across you. He always made sure to linger on you when you walked past by in the corridors, fasten his pace to reach you on your way to school (leaving Iwaizumi on his own, not that it disturbed the outside hitter).

And you found yourself looking for him more. You wanted to see him everyday. And little by little, it made your heart beat loud in your chest.

“Hello there, chibi-chan. Mind if I join?” he sat next to you one afternoon in the library and leaned over your shoulder. “What’s that book?” he asked.

“I’m preparing for the university exams,” you replied.

“Even though you’re in your second year? You’re so cool,” he said, his lips turning into a smile.

“What about you senpai. Are you planning to go to university?”

You bet he would. Oikawa Tooru wasn’t only pretty and athletic, he was smart and studious. He could get accepted in the best schools; get the highest scores in everything he would do.

“Me? Nah, I’m going to be the best setter in the world.”

In the world. Those words should have been your first warning, but the glow of his confidence made you blind to how far his dreams really stretched. He was bright, made of light. You were attracted by him the way meteorites are pulled into an orbit. There was nothing you could do about it anymore, you couldn’t look away from him. So when he asked you to be his girlfriend a few weeks later as he walked you home—“Even though it’s my last year and volleyball’s my priority, I promise I’ll take care of you. If you’ll have me, of course”—you didn’t hesitate and said yes, under the starry night.

Oikawa Tooru was the kind of boyfriend who made you believe in true love.

Every morning, he was there waiting for you in front of your house, his scarf loose around his neck, cheeks pink from the cold. On bitter winter days, he let you slip your frozen fingers into his coat pockets, teasing you about how small they were. For your birthday, he somehow convinced—or maybe, forced—Iwaizumi into helping him bake chocolates for you.

The taste wasn’t too bad, but you told him that next time you would teach him how to bake proper chocolate biscuits. You liked to hear him talk about his passion, and in return, you talked about yours.

When you sat together in his room for what you insisted were “homework sessions and nothing else,” his hands inevitably found their way to your hair. He would twirl strands around his fingers, brushing it with the same precision he used to set a ball. It would always end up in heated kisses sessions.

You gave back in your own way. You never missed a game—not even practice matches—always in the stands. Your cheers were never as loud as his fangirls, but it was always your voice he heard first. At lunch, you peeled fruits for him, offering slices in a delicate handkerchief. He didn’t even like apples, but when you held one out with that quiet smile of yours, he couldn’t refuse.

He liked your baking, though it was never enough sweet for his taste. The first time he tried your chocolate mousse, he stuck out his tongue and wrinkled his nose.

“Heh… Too bitter,” he told you.

“Oi! Trashykawa,” Iwaizumi growled. “Say thank you, it probably took hours to make.”

“Oops, thank you chibi-chan.”

Matsukawa looked at you with a detached look, “don’t mind the guy, he always puts two spoons of sugar in his hot cacao.”

“Matsuuu!” Oikawa whined, “I’m sure everybody does that, right?”

“You’re gonna dye of hyperglycaemia someday.”

The setter pouted and he hid his face into the crook of your neck, “help me, I’m being bullied.”

Everyone laughed, expect for your boyfriend who pretended to be hurt and Hanamaki who was trying to find the definition of “hyperglycaemia” in his biology book.

You didn’t bake him much after that. It’s not that you didn’t want to but rather you were scared it wouldn’t meet its liking, and you had to focus on your studies anyway. You needed to be great for him so he would be proud to tell the world you’re his girlfriend.

When he failed to make it to Nationals, your eyes held no pity—only love and respect. That was the moment he realised how rare you were.

At first, you both kept your relationship quiet.

“That’s how you know she’s different,” Makki had said.

“All the other girls would be screaming from the rooftops,” Matsukawa added.

Oikawa only smiled. You were special. So special. But he only truly understood how special when it was too late.

After high school, his world shifted.

Even though losing at the semi-finals had been a heavy pain, Oikawa never allowed himself to feel down on failure, or at least he didn’t show it. His dreams reached far beyond high school volleyball, beyond Japan itself. So, when he created the opportunity to train in Argentina under his hero, José Blanco, he didn’t think twice. Even if it meant leaving his family and Iwaizumi behind.

Should he have felt guilty when you promised to get a part-time job to save for visits, while a quiet voice in his mind whispered that he hadn’t thought of you at all when making his decision? Maybe. But when you asked if long-distance was okay, he still said yes.

It was the second warning you ignored.

You had never been like Iwaizumi Hajime, you were not able to read between the lines the way he did, or to decipher what Oikawa hid behind his pretty face, so you trusted him.

You believed it would be alright. Your first love would last (but every seventeen-year-old would think so; it is an incredibly naive time to fall in love).

The day he boarded the plane for San Juan, you started your final year of high school.

“Tell me when you get there,” you said, forcing a smile to hide the sadness, “and send me plenty of pictures. Call me every day.”

“I will,” he answered. “Go on now, or you’ll miss your entrance ceremony.”

Move on, he should have said instead.

Distance, it turned out, was more than just eighteen thousand kilometres. It was in every missed call, every half-hearted apology, every time zone that stood between you.

The “plenty” of pictures you had asked for became sparse, dwindling to nothing. One day, you learned he had cut his hair short through a post on Instagram. He didn’t even tell you. You cried all night.

Oikawa was amazing. Articles were written about him, fans started queuing outside arenas just to catch a glimpse of him, coaches from all around the world praised his sets. And each time you read something about him, you remembered. Remembered his brightness, his light. Remembered he was a universe away, out of your reach.

You were a mere object; he was a beautiful star.

And that reality hit you in the face on a May evening, a year after he left.

You had planned to talk but the phone call came late at night. You tried to picture him, somewhere in his room, the sun coming through his window, where it was the moon on your side of the world. Maybe his face was glowing faintly from his phone screen, maybe he had dark circles under his eyes like he often had when he trained too much. Maybe his brown curls were falling on his face. He probably looked handsome anyway.

“Will you come for Christmas?” you asked at some point during the call.

He paused. Too long.

“I’ll try,” Oikawa said, his voice sounded polished but there was something brittle beneath his words. “Let’s talk about it tomorrow, after your exams.”

“Do you promise you’ll call?” You hated how childish your voice came out, but you were desperate to have him on the phone. You wanted him to the first you would hear after your exam.

“Promise,” he said. And though his tone softened with a warmth coming from an impossible distance, you doubted.

When the exam ended the next day, you waited for his call.

He will call, you repeated a few times in your head. He promised.

But as the evening turned into night, your phone remained silent in your pocket. After what felt like longer than the exam itself, you started walking, though you didn’t know where you were going.

You only stopped at some point in front of a shop. It was the smell that drew you in.

It was a little pâtisserie tucked between two tall buildings. Inside, it was warm and so you sat somewhere by the window. It was oddly comforting.

You weren’t hungry, you didn’t even know why you were here, yet, when the waitress asked what you wanted to eat, you found the courage, somewhere deep in your gut, to order something.

“What would you recommend?”

“Try the black chocolate cake,” she said. “It’s my favourite.”

You didn’t regret the choice, and the first bite melted on your tongue, it was rich and bittersweet. For the first time in hours, if not in days, you felt good.

When you stood by the door, on impulse, you asked, “Is it hard? Becoming a pastry chef? Running a shop like this?”

The woman smiled, “it’s hard work,” she said. “But it’s worth it.”

What if it was worth it for you as well?

Your phone finally rang just past midnight.

“Hey,” Oikawa’s voice came through. “I’m so sorry, I lost track of time. Are you okay? How was your exam?”

You hesitated before saying. “It was fine.”

You could have told him in details how it went, what exercise you found hard, which ones were easy, but somehow, you found yourself losing the will to do so.

“Is everything okay?”

“You promised you would call.”

You heard his mouth opening and closing a few times, “I know and I’m really sorry. Training went longer than expected and since I became the starting setter, I really need to put more effort into work.”

You stayed silent, to be honest, you didn’t even know what to say. Should you have gotten mad? Gotten sad?

He was the one to continue the conversation.

“Listen, I won’t go home for Christmas.” He finally admitted with a long sigh.

You stopped breathing. You couldn’t move. In this moment, you were convinced that if someone looked into your heart, they would find nothing but broken pieces, “Why?”

“I’ve been offered to play for the National Team here. But I need to apply to become a citizen first and the appointment with the embassy is around Christmas.”

“I’m not going to university,” you informed.

There was a long silence again. Oikawa was probably waiting for your disappointment or congratulations. But neither of those things left your mouth, “What? Why not?”

“Because,” you said and your voice started trembling slightly, “I’ve decided to become a pastry chef.”

“But… you’re so smart. You’ve always talked about university. I mean, baking is nice but that’s just your hobby, right?”

The words hit like a slap, and something inside you snapped. “My hobby?” You repeated his word. “I’ve been baking for I don’t know how many years. That’s the only thing that truly makes me happy and you call it a hobby? Of all people, I thought you would understand what it’s like to pursue a dream. But of course you wouldn’t even know this was my dream, heh? You’ve never really paid attention to me anyway.”

“That’s not true,” his voice rose. But you didn’t let him finish.

“I can’t do this anymore, Tooru.” You tried to hold your ground even though your stomach twisted and your throat tightened. “I think we should break up.”

“What? Wait, shouldn’t we have a real conversation about it? I-I will call you tomorrow morning, alright? Try to get some sleep first.”

“No, sorry Tooru. It’s over. Good luck with volleyball.”

There was a muffled sound on the other end—a sob, barely stifled—but you ended the call before it could break you more.

The days that followed felt like a blur. He sent a few messages—apologies, explanations—but you didn’t answer.

You told your parents you wouldn’t apply for universities here in Japan, they couldn’t hide their confusion at first but supported your choice after your brother mentioned how happier you would be if you did what you really wanted.

(You made sure to bake your little brother dozens of cookies.)

You started researching schools and ended up going for the one that stood out the most: l’École Ducasse, in Paris. It felt like a long shot, but you applied anyway.

A few days later, an email arrived. You opened it with trembling hands, your heart was pounding in your chest.

You’ve been invited to attend the exam, in France.

You stared at the screen.

“I knew you could make it nee-san,” your brother grinned.

“I didn’t get in yet; I still need to pass the exams.”

“Yes, but you’re going to Paris.”

Your eyes were filled with tears, happy tears. And in a rush, you booked your ticket and began packing your bags.

For the first time in years, you felt like you were moving toward something that was truly yours.

Maybe, just maybe, life wasn’t entirely against you.

When you stepped into Paris at the age of nineteen, you didn’t imagine it would become your home for the next five years—but it did. You passed the entrance exam and began your studies. The first few months were tough. You missed Miyagi. You missed the crisp sound of cicadas in the summer, the quiet beauty of snow-draped mornings in the winter, the comforting taste of miso soup, and the warmth of home. Everything felt foreign—the dormitory walls, the sound of words, even the stars above you.

Still, you told yourself it was for the better.

Some days were great, especially when your teachers praised your work. Other days were marked by a single, damning silence—the kind that hurt more than any harsh critique. You’d lie awake at night, blaming yourself.

Who did you think you were, chasing this dream? You were no Oikawa Tooru. You didn’t have his tireless hard work or his ambition and would definitely never polish your instinct the way he polished his. You found yourself missing him more than when you broke up with him. You missed his curly bed hair, the lock that fell on his eyes when he was sweating after practice, his wink to you from the court after a powerful serve, the face of disgust he would make when you baked dark chocolate mousse.

Regrets invaded you; homesickness ached your heart.

Had you made a mistake leaving Japan? Had you walked away from your true love?

You were on the verge of giving up the next morning. Still, you decided to get up to attend the chocolate-making workshop with students from a year above you. Afterwards, you decided that you would talk to your director and move back to your hometown.

“Bonjour,” you murmured hesitantly. You were still struggling with French. You looked around the room and tried to remember the right orders of words to ask a question, “Est-ce que c’est là… I mean… Ici pour le classe de chocolat?”

Shit, you know “classe” is feminine, so what did you get it wrong? What are they going to think of you?

Your eyes fell on your feet. You were tired.

“Yes, welcome,” someone replied.

The words weren’t in French but in Japanese. You blinked, startled, and turned toward the voice. Your own language sounded familiar and foreign, and somehow, both felt like a lifeline.

“Well, well. Isn’t this Oikawa Tooru’s girl?”

It took a moment to place him—Tendou Satori. But you had not doubt it was him with his red hair, his thin silhouette and curled smile. Your ex-boyfriend would often refer to him as “Ushiwaka’s freak middle”, you had also heard, probably from Iwaizumi, that his nickname was “the Guess Monster”.

Class began, and Tendou ended up as your partner. He was just as sharp and quick-witted as you’d heard, but also kinder than you’d expected. After the session, you wanted to find a way to spend more time with him, so you came up with the excuse that you had a few questions about chocolate making, since it was his speciality. Instead of brushing you off, he asked if you wanted to come with him “somewhere nice”, you said yes. He led you through the Parisian subway, chatting the whole way, until you found yourself standing in front of a small Japanese restaurant tucked into a side street.

The owners welcomed you warmly. They were from Akita, just next to Miyagi, and when they placed full plates of oysters and steaming gyutan in front of you, you didn’t wait a second to bring your hands together in clap and with a grin (and a little drool at the corner of your mouth) exclaimed a loud “Itadakimasu.”

You shared a few beers and had zunda mochi for dessert. It tasted like home and more.

“It gets easier,” Tendou said as you walked along the Seine later. “You just need to find your own rhythm. Do you still want to give up?”

You opened your mouth in shock. You never talked to that guy before tonight, and still, he had been able to read you like an open book. You simply offered him a smile and a “of course not.”

The Friday evenings at the restaurant became a ritual, it was always followed by long walks by the water. Paris felt less overwhelming with Tendou around, you even came to believe that meeting him was a miracle. And so, slowly, you found yourself thinking less and less about Japan and about Oikawa.

One evening, as the two of you strolled, you tried to be discreet, but Satori noticed right away. He always noticed.

“You keep looking up,” he said, nudging you lightly with his elbow.

“It’s just… we don’t see the stars here. In Miyagi, they’re so clear and bright.”

“It’s because of the pollution.” He said matter-of-factly.

“But what do you do when they’re not here?”

“There’s water,” Tendou replied after a moment, he didn’t stop walking. “And trees, and buildings, and wind. They’re here and they’re close. You can touch them and feel them. Isn’t that better than stars?”

You smiled faintly, and the pain in your chest seemed to be relieved, even a little. “I was always scared of what Tooru would think of me. I thought, if I didn’t succeed, if I didn’t become something impressive, he’d stop walking beside me. I wanted to go to university to become a lawyer or an engineer just so he’d be proud. Am I weird for following my dream and breaking up with him instead?”

Tendou glanced at you, then grinned suddenly. “See that rat?”

Startled, you followed his gaze to a fat, black rat scurrying across the cobblestones.

“Most people hate them. Think they’re dirty and gross. But no matter what, rats keep doing their thing. People try to chase them away, kill them even, but they always come back.”

“Are you comparing me to a rat?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Rats are cute.”

“Not the ones in Paris.”

“Fair.”

You both laughed, the regrets eased.

“What I mean is,” Tendou said, almost turning serious, “there’s something you’re meant to be. It’s up to you to figure it out. But once you do, you’ll always be drawn to it. Your cakes are amazing. I think you’ve already found your path. So, stop worrying about whether that loser would have been proud of you or not.”

“He’s not a loser,” you said instinctively.

“Come on. It’s just between you and me. I know you want to say it.”

“Well…” You hesitated, “maybe he is a loser.”

“You can say it louder.”

You turned toward the Seine, cupped your hands around your mouth, and shouted, “OIKAWA TOORU IS A LOSER!”

Tendou burst out laughing again, and so did you.

That night, you went back to your dorm and, perhaps because you felt a pang of guilt, you sent Oikawa a text (because he really was not a loser, you were simply a bit heartbroken). You attached a photo of yourself in your chef’s uniform, smiling brightly.

“If you ever come to Paris, you can visit my school. We have a restaurant, and I’ll bake you milk bread.” you wrote, “I’m happy here. I hope you’re happy too.”

He replied quickly. “You’re so cool!!!(*´◡`*)” A moment later, he sent a picture of himself on a mountain peak, lying in the snow. “This was in Patagonia a few weeks ago… I got high on coca leaves. It’s supposed to help with nausea. It didn’t for me >﹏< But I’m glad to know you’re happy. I’m happy too.”

You laughed quietly at his message. You wanted to tell him more; that it was hard, and that you cried a lot, you almost wrote it down. You imagined him answering that it had been hard for him too, working even more than in high school, learning a new language, fitting in a complete different society. The two of you, maybe, weren’t so different after all. But you decided to keep those thoughts to yourself.

“Do you have one of those big white hats, like the real chefs?” he texted.

You scrolled through your photos. There was one selfie with Tendou where you were both grinning, wearing tall chef’s hats, you sent it. “This one?”

A few seconds passed before he called you.

“First Iwa-chan, now you? Traitor,” he accused. You knew he was pouting on the other side of the phone as he told you about Iwaizumi and Ushijima meeting in California. You asked for updates on his childhood friend. The call stretched on, two or three hours, his afternoon overlapping your late night.

“Shit, I have to go to my physiotherapy session. You know for my knee. I’m good though,” he added quickly. He suddenly remembered the old times in high school when you scolded him for not going to the doctor even though his knee hurt or when he forgot to apply the anti-inflammatory cream. “But I prefer when you’re the one putting it chibi-chan.” (he would always get you to do it).

“Tooru… thank you. I mean, for everything you taught me. Talent really blooms when you let it.”

This was a moment you knew you’d always remember. It was like an in-between, a raw instant and it made you feel like your universe was finally meeting his.

Stars were distant objects burning quietly in the void, destined to explode in silence.

However, they don’t explode to disappear, no, they create something new. They die and then, they are born again.

“And thank you”, he said, his voice softer now. “For teaching me to believe in myself.”

You never asked what he meant by that. Maybe he said it out of politeness. Maybe he truly meant it. Either way, you wanted to keep those words in the back of your mind forever.

Years passed, and your hard work paid off. You got an internship which turned into a permanent position at the prestigious Ritz in Paris.

Eventually, life pushed you to London. You climbed the ranks and carved out a name for yourself.

One day, Oikawa walked through the doors of your workplace in the UK, always so charming but more confident than when you met him. He was visiting from Argentina, he explained, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to drop by unannounced. You made him a chocolate mousse (you didn’t forget to add two extra spoons of sugar in it.)

Tendou, meanwhile, often took the train to visit you. You would always go out in the city to try the best pastries and rank them (it would usually end up with a stomach ache). He never stayed too long, but his visits would brighten your days.

You loved Europe, deeply, it had a special place in your heart now, but maybe it was time to go back, you found yourself thinking one day. Not because you’ve failed here, but because you missed Japan—its sounds, its tastes, its skies.

When you returned home, you noticed how brightly the stars in Miyagi shone, but you knew there was one, on the other side of the ocean, that shone even brighter.

Slowly, you stopped searching for stars above you. You began to think that what you have here on earth is enough. Perhaps what you’ve been seeking all this time isn’t a thousand kilometres away or in some distant universe. Maybe it’s real. Maybe it’s closer than you imagined.

Maybe it’s already within reach.

And one day, it might find its way to you (but that’s another story).

author notes: this will be the first part of a 2 parts story. i really enjoyed writing it so i might post the second part before i start writing ‘and i will wait for you (a thousand springs, a lifetime)’, my apologies 🫣

btw as a non-english native speaker i found it really challenging to write in the past tense, so i really hope the grammar and stuff is consistent, please tell me if you see mistakes <3

lots of love

Elie

[crystal-crax]

C͢R͢Y͢S͢T͢A͢L͢'S͢ M͢A͢S͢T͢E͢R͢L͢I͢S͢T͢

🪼 𖦹             ༊࿐ ⊹ ˚.           ࣪𓇻 ݁Hello Everyone! I'm Crystal, and i quite literally enjoy writing every single thing that i can think of!🩵

Let's spread love and positivity!

-> Public diary shit

• The overthinking series

#1

-> x reader

• Haikyuu

Oikawa x blunt! Reader (The day series)

The day he believed in Santa Claus

The day he was stupid

-> Rants: analysis and theories

SPIDERVERSE

Miguel's trauma Is Miguel O'hara hiding something? Or is his PTSD pushing him too far?

The many worlds interpretation How does the irl multiverse theory tie into the spiderverse/is breaking the canon what causes the destruction of a universe?

TMNT

The neon leon How his arc works (but man he needed a proper season to explore it) (I) A rise to leadership (II) Why he needs to fail at being the leader

In defense of rise's designs Why change is not so bad

[noosayog]

baby fever ft. oikawa toru

wc: 300

iwaizumi | ushijima | atsumu | osamu | sakusa | kageyama

--

When your daughter first started attending kindergarten, after school pick-up was something that worked for your schedule, and never Toru’s. So the agreement ended up being that he would be in charge of mornings and you, afternoons. 

The first couple of months were rough. At drop-off, she’d wail and cling onto Toru’s leg, begging her daddy not to leave her. When you showed up at the end of the day, she’d immediately abandon her teachers and friends, excited to go home and spend time with you and Toru. When realizing that Toru wouldn’t be home to greet her, she would pout for hours, at least until her father came home.

Today, though, would be a bit different. Finally, Toru was in off-season and he decided to use his free time today to join you in fetching her. 

When you arrive at the kindergarten, your daughter sees you first and runs to you as she always does. It’s only when she rounds the corner that she sees her favorite person, crouched down with open arms waiting. 

It’s instant. 

Her eyes light up and she squeals, no hesitation in jumping into Toru’s arms, stubby arms clinging tightly to his neck. 

She refuses to let go and Toru doesn’t complain about carrying her the entire way home. The afternoon is spent playing, giggling, napping, and eating snacks and she finally crashes from all the excitement.

While Toru tucks her in, you perform your nighttime routine. As you rub night cream into your face, you feel Toru wrap his arms around you and bury his face into your neck, sighing. 

“She knocked out?” 

“Mmph…” he grunts. 

You laugh but continue with your routine when you hear him mumble something else against your skin. 

“Toru, it tickles! And I can’t hear what you’re saying.” 

He raises his face and plops his chin on your shoulder, meeting your gaze through the mirror. 

“I said, we should make another one.�� 

“Toru… I thought we agreed that-”

“I know, I know. Wait until I retire so I have more time to help.” 

You nod in response because you two have talked about this already. Multiple times.  

“Ok, hear me out, though” 

“... Okay…” you say warily. 

He takes a deep breath. 

“Please please please please please-” 

You smack his face away, but laugh all the same when he picks you up to retire for the night together. 

[jello-chennie]

✧ tough guy iwaizumi hajime who ends up falling for his best friend’s cute little sister

✧ genre/tw fluff ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ (nsfw at the end ⚠︎)

✧ word count 857

all three of you grow up together, with you being two years younger than tooru. oikawa is always doting on you, treating you like a doll. despite the very little age gap, no matter how old you get, he’s always referring to you as his baby sister. oikawa spoils you rotten. one look from those big brown eyes you both share, but look a lot cuter on you for some reason, and oikawa can’t help but to give you whatever you ask for.

in the beginning, iwaizumi is almost like your other, more responsible big brother when things go wrong. you’re always trying to tag along with your older brother and his friend, which is a recipe for disaster sometimes.

when you inevitably take a spill, and bump your knees, tooru is rolling on the ground, shouting out against the heavens for forsaking you. how could the higher powers let you just fall to the ground like that?? but iwaizumi is is silently wiping off the pebbles from your knee with his little hands, blowing cool air to help assuage your pain. without a word, he carries you back home.

eventually you learn to stop tagging along so much. you can only handle so much pain and embarrassment. other than those moments, iwaizumi and you never really spend that much time together. for the rest of your childhood, you’re more acquaintances than anything else.

but at some point, after oikawa desperately begs you to join the boys volleyball team as it’s manager (“its the only time we’ll be together in high school, you wouldn’t ruthlessly deny your precious and loving and dashing and charming big brother this chance, would you???”), iwaizumi begins to notice you again. but this time, you’re a lot more grown up than you were before. seems like good looks run in the family.

but he’s not the only one that notices. in the same sense that oikawa seems to have the student body under his spell, it seems you do as well, and without even trying.

you’ve had a sheltered childhood that you mostly spent in doors, so you’re shyer than most people. and your brother enables you with his doting behaviour.

iwaizumi finds himself frequently getting jealous at the basket of love letters and confectionery that you have to empty out of your locker and lug home every night. iwaizumi finds that his hands begin to ache after a while bc he clenches them so hard whenever he sees another person confessing to you. and he waits with baited breath to see their disappointed faces as they walk away—an indication that you turned them down again in the way that you always shyly do; an indication that he might still have a chance, yet.

in an effort to put the moves on you, iwaizumi is constantly performing little acts of service for you. he goes out with you to the fountains to refill the water bottles so that you have some company, and so that you won’t have to carry anything heavy—that should be his job, after all. in the most cliche move ever, when an errant ball goes flying right in your direction, iwaizumi coolly catches it with one hand before it can bounce off of your head, making sure to ask you if you’re okay after. he stays behind to help you sweep the floors after practice, striking up a conversation with you. when oikawa stays behind to practice his spikes, iwaizumi walks alone with you home, making sure to keep you away from the side of the sidewalk that’s closest to the road. iwa also makes sure to put your back against the wall of the train while standing in front of you, keeping you safe from any wandering hands.

eventually, he even starts buying your favourite milk drink from the vending machine, and brings it to you while he visits your classroom, the place where you normally eat your lunch. he sits, and eats with you (to which oikawa complains vehemently bc “why would you just sit in a different spot than we normally do without telling me?? you left me all alone!!")

iwaizumi’s actions don’t go unnoticed. you start to fall for it.

when you two eventually start to date, oikawa is whining and complaining that you two are both stealing each other away from him (there’s also relentless teasing on oikawa’s end bc “iwa-chan, isn’t funny that you fell in love with someone that looks just like me?? are you secretly gay and actually just in love with me :3 ??”)

but what’s really the kick in the back for oikawa is the moment he runs up to his precious little sister’s room to check and see what she wants for dinner. but upon opening the door, he finds both his best friend (who, of which, he didn’t even know was over their place at the moment) on top of his “adorable baby sister who can do absolutely no wrong”; the two of them are naked from the waist down, in the throes of passion.

he falls to his knees, asking god to strike him dead, right then and there.

[clawsdevour]

｡. ˚oikawa husband hcs

wc: 0.6k content warning: post-time skip, fluff, goofy silly husband oikawa, not proofread

っ ᐟ˒𓂂

-Oikawa, the type of husband to love to just hold your hand. Everytime he does though, he always looks at it to admire the ring he picked out for you the moment he knew you were the one. He can't help but smile and kiss the small gem while admiring the luck.

-Oikawa, the type of husband to absolutely love laughing with you. It's not that he likes laughing but more of hearing you laugh with him. He enjoys silly little moments where you get to laugh off a small mistake or just simple tickle fights.

-Oikawa, the type of husband to plan little "slumber parties" with you. He'd go out his way to buy little pouches of face masks and cut up little cucumbers for your eyes. While you're at it, Oikawa would also enjoy baking cookies to eat while you both binge-watch your current favorite shows. He loves doing little fun activities like these because you both get a chance to unwind and relax together.

-Oikawa, the type of husband to probably gossip with you about his volleyball team and old friends like how he met Hinata in Brazil. He loves telling you about his volleyball career as well since it's a big part of who he is and he appreciates how you love every version of him.. especially when you're real invested in the short volleyball gossip sessions.

-Oikawa, the type of husband to love ruining your cute couple selfies by making the goofiest faces mid pic until you get serious. Don't get me wrong, he enjoys taking selfies. But what he enjoys most is the memory behind the photos.

-Oikawa, the type of husband to give you his all. Every small effort he puts into you for instance, making you a simple breakfast. He puts every little thought into every action. Do you like bacon? He'd sizzle a fresh batch for you. Do you like your eggs whole or scrambled with salt and pepper? If you don't he wouldn't cook it that way. He remembers every little detail without you even realizing it.

-Oikawa, the type of husband to give you the best shoulder massages when you're having one of those days. He'd immediately notice your slight shift in energy and tell you to sit down in front of him while his fingers work that setter magic, relieving all the pent up stress and freeing up your tensed muscles while he reassures you with his comforting words.

-Oikawa, the type of husband to love going out on dates with you. He enjoys planning them, calling restaurants, booking flights, and overall going above and beyond for a good time with the one he loves the most. He truly loves to spoil you. He'd enjoy taking you out to foreign countries where you both can bask in the ambiance of new land where it's just you two.

-Oikawa, the type of husband to be a complete fatass for the food you cook. Doesn't matter if you're a bad or a good chef, he genuinely likes that you enjoy cooking for him. Every meal he eats, he can feel the love that you cooked it with every bite that just gets better. He's stuffing his cheeks full like a hamster to the point where he'd accidentally end up choking for water.

-Oikawa, the type of husband to definitely send you reels while he's out for work. He'd for sure be watching them and laugh when reading the comment section to the point where he has to send you the reels and sends screenshots of the comments he found the funniest. Oikawa would quite literally laugh in your dms saying stuff like "LOL HINATA DID THIS ONCE"

masterlist here

[cr4yolaas]

second best — iwaizumi hajime

part 2 here !

notes: based off of second best by laufey <3 hope u enjoy!

tags: fluff → angst, timeskip, insecurity / jealousy (reader), losing feelings (iwaizumi), swearing, best friend oikawa, arguments / yelling, iwaizumi is mean and delusional

it was a tuesday. school had ended a handful of hours ago, and you had no homework. the sun was setting quicker than it regularly did, coating your bedroom in a warm gold and casting rays of light upon your shoulders. hajime sat beside you, his laptop propped up on your table.

he bit his nails frantically (a habit you had always scolded him for) and repeatedly reloaded the page. “why won’t it just load…” he groaned, his brows furrowed and a scowl embedded on his lips. albeit his angered expression, he was more frightened than anything. that you knew.

“be patient, haji. you’re gonna break the keys,” you quipped, despite being just as anxious as him.

a new screen appeared with the eighty ninth refresh. in bold letters, congratulations! splayed itself onto hajime’s laptop, followed by an unnecessarily long message detailing his next steps. before you could react, the boy had thrown himself onto you, his arms tightening around your frame as he sobbed uncontrollably. his joy radiated.

“you- you did it!” you exclaimed, returning his hug. you nearly laughed at his face — tear-soaked, distraught, a far cry from the stoicism he wore. “i’m so proud of you, haji.”

he stumbled over his words as he struggled to regain his composure. the amalgamation of emotion was evident on his features; glee engraved itself on his cheeks, shock poured out of his eyes, excitement spilled from the cracks between his teeth. not once did he let go of you, as if fearful that he would face a different reality if he did so. “i know i’m going to be super far away, but- but promise me you’ll wait for me. please.” hajime held both of your hands in his. “i’ll make you proud, and then i’ll come back. okay?”

you beamed at him. “okay. i promise.”

hajime’s head rested on your shoulder, his grip on his store-bought onigiri loose — a tell-tale sign of his exhaustion.

the large LED clock on the wall read 5 am. he had stressed that he get to the airport as early as possible, seemingly prepared for the journey, and yet, here he lay, slumped against a plastic chair.

you took the food out of his hand and packed it into his carry-on, careful not to disturb his rest. he arose regardless. “shit,” he mumbled, clearly riddled with sleep. “what time is it?”

“you still have two hours until your flight, hajime,” you laughed. “relax. i wouldn’t let you be late.”

he muttered a lighthearted insult that didn’t quite make sense and leaned against you once more. a warm silence washed over you both before he spoke again. “i’m scared,” he whispered.

you didn’t look at him, in fear that you would get too emotional. instead, you fidgeted with his hand, your thumb ghosting over his calloused skin. “scared of what?”

“everything.”

“you know that’s not an answer, dumbass.”

he sighed. “i’m going to be leaving you all alone. not just you, but everyone i know. everything i know. and, who knows — what if things don’t go as planned?”

you hummed softly before responding, “that’s how growth is, haji. if you stay here, it’s unlikely that you’ll reach anything new. but if you go there — the college you’ve been dreaming about for ages — you’ll find new heights to reach. and i’ll be here for all of it. well, not physically, but you understand.”

hajime began to tremble against you. muffled cries escaped his lips, his grip on your hand tightening as the announcement for him to depart rung over the speakers. “i’m sorry, my love. i’ll come back for you, pinky promise.”

you finally looked at him — a mistake on your part. his anguish made your heart ache, and you began to mirror him almost instantly.

you helped him stand up and carry his bags to the line before placing a delicate kiss to his lips. “be safe, ha-“

hajime pulled you towards him and pressed his lips to yours, however, with far more desperation. the thud of his bag against the floor seemed to echo as his hands gripped your sides. he pulled away, his face comically tearful, before muttering an “i love you” against your forehead.

you waved him off as he boarded the plane, your heart sinking to the depths of your lungs, restricting your ability to breathe as you started to sob into your arms.

“so, this is my dorm…” a deep voice rung out from your phone. “all of my roommates are out right now, so i have the whole place to myself. anyways, look- i brought some of our polaroids and hung them above my desk.” hajime flipped his camera and slowly panned it across his wall, demonstrating various photographs hanging from a shelf.

“it’s super cute, haji. what else is there?”

he continued to show you around the living area and the kitchen, his excitement evident despite your inability to actually see his face.

while it was the midst of a bright afternoon where he was, sleep was creeping up on you, as you had stayed up late into the night to wait for this call. it had been several months since he had officially begun classes at UCI, but adjusting was reasonably difficult, giving him no time to sufficiently update you. but now, he had carved a little space into his schedule to “spend time with you” (as he called it).

“oh, by the way — i ran into ushijima wakatoshi here, y’know, the really tall one from shiratorizawa. it was pretty interesting. i didn’t really expect to see him there.” he continued to ramble on while you listened as intently as you could with your phone propped up on your table. your eyes were growing heavier, the words fading in and out. hajime’s exclamation roused you from your near slumber. “wait, it’s super late there right now, isn’t it? i’m so sorry, baby, i completely forgot. you’re probably really tired. umm, i’m not sure if i have time to call you tomorrow, but i’ll try my best.”

you mumbled softly, “it’s alright, i think i’m busy tomorrow anyways. i’ll see you soon.”

hajime smiled. “yes, i’ll see you soon.”

over the next couple of months, hajime had made time to keep in contact with you — between classes, during his part-time job, as he ate dinner — he was always sure to integrate you into his schedule.

you would be lying if you said you weren’t a little anxious.

oikawa laid across your bedroom floor, his glare etching holes into the ceiling. “he’s head-over-heels for you. i’m being serious! he has absolutely no reason to cheat, or anything of the sort. and if he did, i’d beat him up, obviously.” he spoke dramatically, as if what he was stating was common sense. and yet, you still found yourself worrisome.

“i guess, but- i’m sure it’s exhausting for him. he already works hard enough, so i can’t imagine how it is trying to balance his life over there with our relationship.” the brunette groaned at your fretting and launched himself up, his face now pointed towards yours.

his brows were tightly knit as he ranted, “if you were him, you would do anything you could to keep the relationship alive, wouldn’t you? because you’re so painstakingly, heartbreakingly, devastatingly in love with him, right? well, i’m telling you that’s what he’s doing right now! get your head on straight. you two were like, meant to be! so enough of your yapping!” despite his feigned anger, oikawa couldn’t wrap his head around your insecurities. did you not see how smitten hajime was? how, when your name was so much as mentioned in conversation, he became the liveliest person in the room, akin to a child talking about their favorite show? none of that changed, regardless of the distance. he wished you realized that.

you frowned. “sorry, i just- ugh.” you groaned into your palms, exasperated with your own worries. “it’s so stupid. i feel so stupid.”

your friend’s demeanor switched, and instead of aggressively reassuring you, he rubbed a gentle hand over your back. “he’s so, so, so in love with you. i promise.”

a month after that interaction, oikawa asked you to hang out with him — supposedly, the plan was to watch a movie since “no one else wanted to watch it with him,” and eat right after. however, this was not the road to the theater.

“tell me where we’re going, or i’m going to call the police on you for kidnapping me,” you half-joked.

“no!! it’s a surprise — and if i were really kidnapping you, would i let you keep your phone?”

feeding into your concerns, oikawa pulled into the airport parking lot, his movement growing increasingly frantic. “hurry!” he shouted at you while pulling you through the crowd.

at last, he stopped before a gate, the bold arrivals sign hanging above you both. “just wait,” he spoke, his eagerness clear.

as if on cue, a strong pair of arms wrapped themselves around you both, rendering you short-breathed. “haji?” you spoke on instinct.

“i- i’m home. i’m home, guys.” he beamed up at both of you with a smile that you had longed to see for what felt like centuries. oikawa was cast to the side as hajime threw himself onto you, seemingly unaware of the click of his friend’s camera from just a few feet away. “i missed you so much, baby, you don’t understand.” he peppered kisses across your face, painting you with a longing so heavy it weighed your whole body down.

“i missed you too, haji.”

oikawa drove you both to your apartment before leaving a gift for hajime and a smile for you. the moon sung into the wind and left you shivering, resulting in your boyfriend ushering you into the house.

“i didn’t prepare anything, i’m sorry,” you ranted. “oikawa didn’t tell me — he told me we were going to the movies. what a liar. i was kind of excited for it too.”

hajime laughed before walking around your home. he seemed to inspect every corner with a heart full of love and a face drenched with yearning, his dried fingertips ghosting over the furniture. “it’s so cozy in here. when did you move in?”

you hummed while looking into the pantry. “after my first year, they allowed me to live off campus. it’s really convenient. i’d say it’s like, a five minute walk to the station?” as you rambled, hajime wrapped his arms around you once more. “hey, i’m making you dinner. you didn’t eat yet, right?” he shook his head against your neck.

“i really, really, missed you,” he whispered against your skin before pulling away. “what are you making?”

you smiled up at him, a sight he had been waiting to see in person. “your favorite, of course.”

hajime told you he’d be over for the next month, as he was on spring break. the first week was spent celebrating with his friends and family — to begin, a party with his former team spent at a local restaurant.

“so,” oikawa begun, his face dusted pink as he held a bottle in his hand. “what have you been up to while you left us, iwa-chan?” the nickname made the man grimace, the memories it carried making him cringe. nonetheless, he continued.

“well, i’ve been training under this one trainer i’ve always looked up to. he’s taught me quite a bit, and i’m learning a lot every day. he works with the university’s varsity team, which is super awesome, and he used to play here in japan,” hajime ranted. “and i even met ushiwaka — super crazy, i know. it was like he was following me. oh, and- i’ve also met a few people there from my classes there that are super cool. look.” he pulled out his phone and showed a picture to the table, featuring him amongst a small group of friends. within them, one stood out the most. matsukawa was the first to call it out.

“holy shit, who’s that? the one on the right? she’s so pretty,” he spoke with slurred words, his face burning up with alcohol. the rest of the table leaned in to get a good view, murmurs of agreement ringing about. hajime looked beside him to see you stagnant, a slight furrow to your brow and an uncomfortable expression etched onto your face. he thumbed your hand under the table as if to provide you with solace.

“she’s in the same major as me, and she also came from japan. we met during class, and she introduced me to her friend group. it’s pretty cool, though — supposedly, she’s an understudy for an international team’s trainer,” he explained, noises of awe washing over the group. your face only grew more bitter.

you knew it was foolish to be jealous over something so minuscule. he was allowed to have friends — you weren’t so selfish as to rob him of that. but knowing that he was in the presence of someone so much greater than you made your head ache more than you had hoped. seeing him praise her so openly was akin to him piercing your ribcage. it was childish. you dared not to express such feelings to him.

when you got home, hajime splayed himself onto your bed without changing, his hand subconsciously gripping onto the hem of your sleeve as he drifted into sleep. you did not close your eyes as swiftly.

instead, you sat up, tracing the features on your boyfriend’s face and observing each intricacy. you did not want to lose this — to lose him. to think of such a thing frightened you; to experience it would be far worse. but would you blame him, if he chose the lustrous world across the sea over the dull life you presented to him?

you decided that you wouldn’t, for you knew the answer deep down.

“hajime,” you began. you poked at your food apprehensively. “you’re leaving next week, right?”

he swallowed a large bite before responding, “mm, yeah, possibly.”

“possibly?”

“well- you know the girl from my group at college? the one i showed you all at the dinner table. she’s been offered to attend an actual game with the coach that’s training her and asked if i wanted to come along. i think it’s a super great opportunity,” he explained with a careless tone about him. contrary to that, you were coated with dread.

your movements halted altogether. “…yes, that’s a wonderful opportunity hajime! it’s just-“ you stumbled over your speech, fearful of saying the wrong thing. you promised yourself not to be childish, and yet, you longed to be selfish just a little longer. “can you really not stay any longer?”

hajime sighed, and your chest ached with guilt. “i could, but- you know this is a chance that doesn’t come by very often, if at all. this could be the step that brings me to where i need to be.”

you picked at the skin of your fingers under the table. he was right. you knew he was. but it hurt to witness it; to witness him willingly choose another thing over you.

your greed got the best of you. “haji, you told me to wait for you. i waited for so, so long. but it feels like- it just feels like all that waiting was for nothing. it feels like you’re slipping out of my fingers already.” he groaned softly, just barely enough for you to hear, and ran a hear through his hair. “i’m sorry, i know it’s selfish, but can’t you just- why not stay a little longer? please?”

he carried his dishes to the sink, a heavy air hanging around him. “if you know it’s selfish, why do you keep pushing for it? you know this is something beyond important to me. i worked so hard to get here, to get so close to my dream. i don’t understand why i should turn down something that could very well be the turning point.”

you followed suit, desperate to mend the conversation you started. he was growing irritated, and it terrified you. you wished not to say anything too abrasive, but he seemingly did not have that restraint. “i’m not telling you to turn it down, haji. i just want to spend a little more time with you before i can’t have you for another- i don’t know, another year? maybe more? i- i’m sorry, i just-“

“stop. just- stop. i know you’re upset, but i need you to understand that i’d be even more upset if i missed this opportunity. why don’t you get it?”

“i do get it, i promise, but-“

“then act like it! because to me, it just seems like you don’t want me to go at all! if it were any other person than her who invited me, you wouldn’t have said anything! but because you’re so goddamned selfish, you keep fighting to keep me here, even though you’re the one who told me going overseas was the best thing i could do for myself! you- fuck! you told me this was how i’d reach new heights. and i’m showing you that i’m getting there, and i’m trying so hard to become someone you can be proud of, that everyone can be proud of, and it just feels like you’re shutting all of that down!” white-hot tears were flowing from his eyes as he yelled, his consciousness not picking up on your protective stance and your own tear-drenched cheeks and the apologies spilling from your lips. “fuck- i’m gonna pack my shit now. i’m sorry i yelled, but i’m leaving tomorrow. goodnight.”

you could not process him leaving for the bedroom door behind you, and you could not process the shutting of the door and the shuffling of his belongings. all you could do was fall to the floor and curl in on yourself, ashamed for creating the commotion you swore not to stir.

when you awoke the next morning, the other side of the bed was cold and folded neatly. the house was empty.

you stumbled out into the kitchen, looking around for any remnant of hajime — a note, a picture, a gift, anything, only to turn up empty-handed and instead bearing a pained heart. “haji?” you mumbled into the air with a watery voice. “haji, where are you?”

your body knew of his whereabouts before your mind did, causing you to kneel to the ground and sob. your whimpers were reminiscent of a dog crying for its owner, or a child whining for its parent.

he had left without so much as a goodbye. perhaps if you had been less demanding, less adamant that he stay just a little bit longer with you, he would have kissed you at his departure or left you something to remember him with. but the house was empty, just as it was before he arrived.

on the morning of his departure, long before the sun had crawled up onto the horizon, hajime went to oikawa’s place. he knocked on the door thrice before a disheveled man let him in. hajime apologized for his intrusion.

“why do you have your bags? why are you leaving so soon?” oikawa interrogated his friend before he could speak.

the other man scratched the back of his neck. “well, uh, i’m leaving early. that girl from my college, she offered to bring me with her to a training experience with her coach. i really wanna go.”

“what?” oikawa exclaimed dramatically, his eyes bulging out of his head. “did you- did you even explain this to them? what did they say?”

“i think i worded it wrong… they didn’t take very, uh, kindly to it, i guess. well- no, wait, they did, but i think i responded wrong. i just- i don’t know.”

the brunette scoffed before pacing around the living room with a burst of energy. “god, reasonably so! if i were them, hearing that you were ditching me for the person you haven’t stopped talking about this whole damn visit, i’d be furious! are you- are you insane?”

hajime shot up from his seat defensively. he looked at his friend with exasperation. “look, do you realize how important this is to me? why wouldn’t i go?” in response, oikawa stopped in his pacing. he rubbed his forehead in irritation, his gaze fixated to the floor.

“iwaizumi,” he spoke sternly. the formal tone brought the man to a halt. “you have to be honest with yourself. you haven’t seen your lover in like, forever, and you’re leaving them behind once again for a girl who just so happens to have connections-“

“connections that could get me places!”

“shut up! let me finish!” oikawa slammed his hands onto the table. “you have been lying to them this whole trip. they have been so kind as to wait for you, no matter how long it’d take. they stayed up night after night to call you and make sure you were doing well, to make sure you had eaten, to make sure you were still there. but you come here, and to me, it seems that all you want is what’s over there. i know these goals are important to you, and that you want to achieve them more anything. but have you never considered that maybe, just maybe, your own partner has been longing for you just as much?”

hajime could only scoff, so blinded by his aspirations that he could not bear to absorb oikawa’s words. “it’s selfish.”

“then maybe you should just leave. it’d be far more heartbreaking for them to stick with someone who can’t even appreciate them to an equal degree.”

weeks after his disappearance, hajime had yet to speak to you. he no longer called nor texted. evidently, you were an obstacle to his desires.

however, after a drunk night spent with oikawa, you received a text from his contact — one you couldn’t bear to delete.

can we call?

you scrambled up from the couch, oikawa jolting at your action. “what? what is it?” he peered over at the message, and in an instant, dread displayed itself onto his face. “are you gonna answer?”

you knew it’d be stupid to do so — he had left you without a word for dreams that were greater than you, and left you to pick up the pieces of a relationship that had consumed your very being for so long. but it was undeniably tempting.

after long deliberation, you nodded and opened the notification. oikawa watched anxiously.

“hello? this is, um- is this-”

“yes. it’s me,” you answered shakily. silently, you put the call on speaker.

“oh, great! i mean, uh- okay, hold on.” you could hear him breathe in before speaking again. “i know it was horribly wrong of me to leave without any contact. i just wanted to apologize for that, for everything. for not giving you what you deserved and needed at the time. i just- can we just talk for a bit?”

you slumped back onto the couch and oikawa followed after you. you weren’t in the right state of mind — the copious amount of alcohol you drank clouded your functionality, and yet, you knew that this chance wouldn’t ever come by again — it was foolish. “of course,” you responded. “how have you been?”

you both listened half-intently as he rambled on about his current life — how he was now working with a new coach, how he was getting closer to graduating, how he was planning on going to the japan national team as soon as he got the chance. he failed to leave out the mention of his girlfriend — his new girlfriend — thus exposing him and leaving you distraught.

stupidly, you were not angry. he seemed so excited; he was building a life that seemed to be getting better every day. who were you to oppose that? oikawa shook his head disapprovingly at your lack of response.

“anyways, um, how are you?” hajime asked. he sounded so youthful — it hurt far more than it should have.

you struggled to swallow your tears as you spoke. “i- i’m doing okay. i just, uh, got a new job, ‘nd i- sorry, i’m-“

his concern hurt more than anything. “are you alright? is everything okay?”

“i’m sorry, it’s- it’s really late here right now, and i’m exhausted. can we, um- can we speak another time?” you sniffled through your words, desperately hanging onto the last bits of a conversation you knew you were not strong enough to withstand.

“oh, okay, sure. sorry to bother you so late in the night. and, um, i… i’m sorry. for everything. really, i am. uh, sleep well.” he hung up before you could say anything more, leaving you to sob in oikawa’s arms as he unleashed a handful of tears himself, as if sharing your anguish.

to you, iwaizumi hajime was everything. to him, you were too far behind to keep up — you were his second best.

[honoredalone]

pretty when you cry

live laugh lana del rey.

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ

all the pretty stars shine for you my love, am i that girl, that you dream of?

he’s dreamed of this, you above him, sitting on his long, hard cock. warm walls suffocating him, making him dizzy, his vision blurring.

“too big, ‘s too much.” you’re whining, shifting your position in his lap to adjust to his large length. he’s mesmerized by you. not just the way you take him, but by the way you praise him, the way you hold him, the way you kiss him and just the way you look at him. it has him in a chokehold. that being said when you’re riding him you have no ounce of control. he’ll guide your hips, bouncing you up and down, thrusting when he grows inpatient, anything.

“just a little more.” he rasps, lifting his hips, pushing himself in further, feet pushed into the plush mattress. “my good fucking girl, you’re so good to me.” he laughs when you whimper, the head of his cock brushing your spot making you rock your hips desperately attempting to cause some friction. “ah ah ah. gotta be patient pretty.” he grasps your hips tightly, the pressure making you let out a sob.

“i wanna- just.. please.” you said exasperated, fed up with his teasing. his hold on your hips becoming softer, his thumbs massaging your hips. his eyes admiring your body. marks covering your skin, red flush to your cheeks, lashes damp.

“please what, my angel?” he says teasingly, hand sliding down, finding your clit. it’s soaked in your arousal, smiling like a jackass when you gasp out another strangled sob when he pinches it, hard. “aw you’re so cute. so needy.” you open your mouth to respond then you make eye contact with him when he brings his fingers, still drenched in your juices, into his mouth. his eyes rolling to the back of his head at your taste, cock twitching and throbbing inside of you. “use your words.” he muses before spitting on his fingers and bringing them back down to your clit, rubbing roughly making your back arch, hips buck and moans falling from your lips.

“please-” you sigh as he slows his pace on your already sore spot. “please take care of me.” he smiles, sharp canines on display.

“all you had to do was ask pretty.” with no warning he retracts his fingers and grips both your thighs holding you down on him, thrusting his hips up with an excruciatingly fast pace. “such a pretty pussy on my pretty little bunny.” he groans, head falling back onto the pillow, continuing the fast pace he’s set. you moan nails scratching down chest to his abs making him spiral. “god you were made for me.” he says almost tearfully, you couldn’t really tell due to the sound of skin slapping skin, heavy breaths, small words and wet squelching.

because i’m pretty when i cry i’m pretty when i cry

he’s not one to cry, even during a sad moment, he keeps his tears in until he’s alone. no one can see him vulnerable, ever. he’s also never been one to cry during sex, usually, he’s the one making his partner cry. although, since being with you, crying while being inside of you has become a repeated occurrence. the first time you had sex with him, he started to sob as he pounded into you nearing his climax. after reaching his peak and cleaning up he laid in bed while you showered, he cringed at the thought of him crying while being inside of a women.

‘you’re such a baby.’ he thinks, when he is snapped back to reality by the spot beside him sinking down meaning you were next to him. “was i too rough with you?” he rolls onto his side to face you, looking into your eyes before they fall to your swollen pink lips.

“no, you were perfect.” you smile tiredly at him, scooting closer to him, cuddling into his warmth.

he never was one for post-sex cuddling, but there was something different about this. it was comfortable, it was soothing, he wanted it.

“it was sweet.” you said, when he moved a piece of hair from your eyes.

“what was sweet?” he asked warily, hoping you wouldn’t bring up his crying. despite his hope you did. “how is that sweet? it’s pathetic.” he whines moving to lay on his back, hands hiding his face, embarrassment coursing through his body.

“i just, i don’t know. i’m glad i made you feel good.” you said nervously, positioning yourself stomach down, head on his chest looking at his hidden face. “don’t be embarrassed, it was cute.”

“cute? that was cute to you?” he said sounding agitated and now even more embarrassed. being described as ‘cute’ is worse than telling him he’s weak. he doesn’t want to be cute.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to offend you.” you said now extremely nervous that you’d upset him, that any progress you’ve made with him now doesn’t matter. leaving your spot on his chest to now your back facing away from him, curled into yourself. trying to give him space so that he doesn’t feel more embarrassed with himself and annoyed with you.

he notices your change in behavior, now more aware that he had made you self-conscious. while he was embarrassed the last thing he’d want is to make you upset. you’ve only been dating for around 5 months but he’s sure that you’ll be his for the rest of eternity. “come here.” he said quietly, wrapping his arms around your waist, his strong arms lifting you effortlessly so you’re laying practically on top of him. he’s thought about it for the past few weeks.

‘what’s so different about you?’ it’s that when you’re together any moment spent together, you could be having a natural conversation but even if it’s completely silent, it’s comfortable. you guys don’t have to talk when you’re together. you know how to be together and just enjoy it without talking or touching. he allows himself to be vulnerable around you. he cries while fucking you and it’s so pretty.

i’m stronger than all my men, except for you

while he nears his high, his thrust become animalistic, his moans become louder and whinier, sobs and pleasure making him shake, body covered in sweat, fat tears falling down his face making his skin shine. he’s so pretty like this. “i’m close, i’m so close.” he cries, his cock throbbing almost painfully waiting for your permission to release. “please,” more cries falling from his pretty lips. “please let me-” he moans loudly, back arching, hips harshly thrusting into your heat. “i’m gonna-” a loud sob escapes his throat as he pushes the head of his cock as deep as he’s able to, his big hands gripping your thighs pushing them down onto the sides of his pelvis while he shoots his cum deep onto your warm walls.

you collapse onto his chest, his length still buried deep inside. his hands still gripping your thighs, chest rising and falling, sweat making your skin stick together. you lift your head looking at his red fucked-out face. you kiss his tear streaked cheeks, before lifting off of him. his and your own release dripping out of your hole, he watches the liquid fall onto the sheets as you struggle to move off of him.

“i love you.” he laughs at the irony. he never believed he’d fall in love, but when he looks at you he knows that this is what love should feel like.

“i love you so much.” you respond, before continuing with a small tease, “you’re pretty when you cry.” he shoots you a dirty look but nonetheless chuckles.

i’ll wait for you, babe it’s all i do, babe

satoru gojo, jean kirstein, tengen uzui, choso, oikawa tooru, ken kaneki, osamu miya and any of your favs of course <33

[euphoricimagination]

Nostalgia

A sentimental longing or wistful affection for a period in the past. Or, when the boy you fell in love with finally comes back, bringing a beautiful chaos with him.

Genre: Exes to lovers; fluff

Oikawa Tooru, famous setter for the Argentinian National Team, a Japanese man who became a citizen in another country just so he can make his dream come true. But to you that didn't mean much.

He was your first love. He was the person you love the most. He made your high school years amazing. He also was the one who broke your heart.

.

You met Oikawa in your first year of high school; as classmates, you were used to having a bunch of girls fawning for him, constant love confessions and soft rejections happening right outside your classroom. He was undeniably handsome, but also very smart and passionate for volleyball; it'd be a lie to say you didn't have a crush on him, but you were never one to want to confess. You became friends after partnering up for a project, he found it pleasant that you weren't constantly flattering him, in fact, he found your little remarks fun; you were nice but slightly sassy.

Soon enough you became close friends, and you end up spending more and more time in the gym to watch him practice. You weren't the manager, but you often helped them while doing other stuff, so you got close to them quite quickly; Iwaizumi particularly liked how easy going you were with his best friend.

You also were one of the only ones who managed to stop him from overtraining, always making up excuses so he could come with you without actually making him stop. He was perceptive, he knew you didn't actually need him to go home, but he liked your company and was more than happy to spend time with you.

It was thanks to his intelligence that he remembered everything about you, from your favorite foods and snacks to the ones that you couldn't eat; every time you and the team went to eat ramen he would always took the veggies that you dislike from your bowl almost unconsciously, putting them in his bowl as he gives you some of his in return. You had a bad night? He noticed as soon as you walked in the classroom, going to buy your favorite snack and drink before taking you away from the prying eyes, talking about everything and nothing hoping you would forget whatever was troubling you, or even better, telling him what happened.

So it was no surprise that you two ended up dating by the end of your first year.

Dating him was surprisingly easy, despite the constant love confessions, he never made you feel less loved; always making sure you knew that for him they were just his fans and no more. He always makes sure to hold you close, to spend time with you after practice, to take you out on simple dates, to make sure you know that he loves you and only you.

Your family adores him, and his family adores you too; staying in each other's house was never an issue, your parents knowing that you both know how to take care of yourselves. You two connect on a closer level a week into your third year, one weekend that you spend with him when his family wasn't home. It was clumsy, slightly painful, but full of love and care. You wouldn't have it any other way.

It was during the first interhigh, when Seijoh lost against Shiratorizawa, when he brought the topic up with you. He was talking with an Argentinian coach, one that he had admired since childhood, seeing if it was possible to join them after he finishes high school. The chances were high, really high, so he started learning Spanish to make sure he was ready. At the time you didn't think about it much, you were happy that he was having such a big chance with his love for the sport, you even started learning the language with him so you could help him out. But when he came to you after losing to Karasuno from a place in the spring interhigh telling you that it was confirmed, that he was accepted in the Argentinian team, it hurted.

It was a mixed of feelings; you were happy, happy that all of his efforts in the sport were finally being recognized, happy that he was going to be with his idol, happy that his dream was starting to become a reality; but you were also sad, not knowing what will happen to your relationship. You were selfish, you didn't want him to go, part of you wanted him to be rejected so he could stay; but you weren't that selfish to tell him, you knew that when it comes to volleyball nothing will stop him to make his dream come true, knowing him too well to know that he will put his pride and love for volleyball over everything else, including you. You didn't want to start a fight over this, rather spending that time with him than without; after all you fell in love with that determination of his.

You went to say goodbye to him at the airport, both of you had decided to break up, not because you wanted to, but it'd have been almost impossible to keep a relationship with such a time difference. With one last kiss you say goodbye to him, your heart breaking as he walks away.

.

Years passed, almost 10 years since you last saw him. You studied kinesiology since you ended up liking volleyball and helping the players; you had a boyfriend, a relationship that lasted a while before you broke up. You and Oikawa didn't keep in contact, but you both did follow each other in social media, so you knew the basics of what the other was doing; plus, Iwaizumi was always giving you small little updates.

“hey” he says sitting next to you after a while “wasn't expecting to see you here”

However, sitting in the bench of the MSBY Black Jackals where the Japanese National Team was practicing, was the last place you expected to see him again. He was walking beside Iwaizumi with a smile, a smile that seems to become brighter once his eyes found yours. His eyes went a bit wider as you feel your heart beating fast, were you happy? Confused? Scared? You don't know, but it definitely was something. Memories found their way to your head, feelings that you thought were more than forgotten seem to start surfacing again.

“I can say the same to you” you answer back “what brings you back?”

“My team was invited to practice here in Japan, i had the day off today, so Iwa-chan invited me over” he explains, making you nod

“I'm their kinesiologist, and since i worked with some of them before, it was easier to get the job here”

“Nice, maybe you can help me? My wrist is being weird lately” he says with a small smirk and a clearly fake pain expression

“Does your team not have someone or what?” You look at him with a raised eyebrow

Once they finished their stretches you began to put your things away, you noticed that Oikawa was talking to Iwaizumi, so you quickly went out of the gym before he saw you.

“We do, but i rather have a pretty girl look at it” he flirts with a wink. It makes you chuckle how shameless he still was with his flirting “I'm kidding, I'm totally fine…but maybe we can have dinner together?” At that moment someone from the team calls you for some help in his stretches, so you look at Oikawa with a smile before standing up to help them.

“Yn-chan! Want to grab dinner with us?” Bokuto asks, walking outside the gym and passing his arm around you alongside Atsumu and Hinata. As the door is closing, your eyes find Oikawa’s, a small frown in his face as he looks at Iwaizumi again.

“Sure, let's go”

.

“Did Shittykawa asked you something when he came?” Iwaizumi asks you, it has been three days since Oikawa came to the gym

“Eh…yeah, he wanted to have dinner together”

“And?” he asks

“I…well, I was overwhelmed. I didn't expect him to be here, so I didn't know what to say”

“Understandable…well, I kinda expected it. He hasn't stop bothering me to give him your number, I haven't done it though, you two have a lot to sort out”

“Thanks” he wants your number? Why, all of the sudden?

A few hours later he's in the gym, interacting with the coach, Iwaizumi, even some of the players right before he comes next to you once again.

“He's coming again today, so you might wanna talk to him” he pats your head lovingly “but also, he's driving me crazy, so please do” You chuckle, knowing how Oikawa can get and how much he can annoy Iwaizumi. You made a note in your head to talk to him.

“You left mee! So mean, Yn-chan” he pouts sitting beside you

“Sorry, i..i had to do something” you say to him. You had forgotten how much you had miss him and his whiny self

“It’s okay, you were with your…boyfriend?” he looks at you, an emotion that you couldn't describe

“Boyfriend? Bokuto-san? No no, we're not dating, Bokuto is just…Bokuto” you look at the owl boy, who's now excitedly jumping “what about you? No girlfriend missing you?”

“Nah, the only ones calling me from Argentina are, at most, the workers that are expanding my house” he says, a small smile on his face. You know him, and while so many years have passed, his eyes are still as expressive as ever: outside of his teammates, he was alone there.

“I know a good ramen place nearby, we can grab dinner there if you want” his eyes get brighter

“Sure”

+

“Haven't had tsukemen in a while, these aren't in many places in Argentina” he says as the server puts your food in front of you

“I imagine it'll be hard to find true japanese food outside of japan” you say looking at your bowl “so, trying to reconnect with your exes, Oikawa-san? I'm sure Iwa told you i was going to be there”

“Oikawa-san? Ouch, Yn-chan, ouch” he says, taking his chopsticks. He instinctively takes the fish cakes out of your bowl, just like he used to do when you were together “you still don't like them, right?”

“Thanks Tooru” the name still rolls out of your tongue easily, as if you were again the same 17 year old kids

“And yeah, I knew, i… I wanted to see you again” a rare blush spreads in his face “and for the record, you are the only ex I'm reconnecting with”

You chuckle and take some of his food, he smiles and whines, but he still puts some more into your bowl.

.

“That jacket looks awfully similar to Seijoh’s” you comment to the man who was waiting outside the gym, a white jacket with light blue accents; and it suddenly feels like high school all over again, him waiting outside the gym while you locked it up, looking at the sky before smiling at you. It's eerie how similar it felt, the only difference being his physique and the fact that his back had an ARGENTINA written on it.

“Take a photo, it lasts longer” he ruins the moment, noticing how your eyes are still glued to his body, a smirk appears on his face, smirk that disappears when you hit him “What was that for?!”

“Shut up, Shittykawa”

“Not you too!” He whines, but you can only see playfulness in his eyes as he extends his hand “mind joining me on a walk?”

You look at his hand, you want to hold it, see how it feels to hold it again, but you're still hesitant; so instead, you pass him your backpack and start walking. He chuckles, but follows right behind you.

+

You end up walking towards a familiar place, a park that was near Aoba Johsai, a park where you and Oikawa used to go constantly after school. It was involuntary, both of you were just walking without a destination set, a comfortable silence between you two.

“Remember when we made a study group in our second year?” He asks pointing at a tree

“The one where you refused to study and laid on my lap? Or the one where you “accidentally” pushed Iwa into the lake?” you chuckle

“It WAS an accident!” he says offended

You sit on a bench near said lake, your legs almost touching from how close you were. You notice him shiver, the night was getting colder and he only had the flimsy jacket on that clearly wasn't made for this temperature. You take your bag and took out a scarf you had, getting closer to him to wrap it around his neck.

“We can't have the most talented setter get sick, can we?” You say smiling at him, as you try to move away he held your hands

“I think my hands are slightly more important from keeping them from freezing” he says, looking directly into your eyes

“You just want me to hold them” you raise an eyebrow, but still give in, taking his hands and trying to wrap yours in a way so it can bring some warmth. He chuckles, moving them to properly hold them

“I missed you” he sighs after some silence “I thought I was over you, that I'd be able to move on and find someone else, but I couldn't. I tried, I had some girlfriends, but it never felt…right, and I didn't know why. Until I saw you in the gym again. I actually hoped that you would have move on, so at least i didn't have a single chance, but here we are”

“...here we are”

These past days, you also thought you were over him, that your feelings for him were nothing more than nostalgia, but this week you were so happy, so happy to have him again.

But the truth is, you didn't have him back. He wasn't yours again.

“But I'm not dating you again. After your training camp here is over, you're going back to Argentina, and I don't want to leave Japan; long distance relationships aren't safe either. I love you too much to hold you back now that you finally achieve the dream that you work so hard for, I'm not that selfish”

You barely can finish your sentence before you feel his lips on yours. You're surprised, but your body instinctively reacts to it, kissing him back. His lips were just as soft as they were years ago, and the kiss made you feel the same butterflies as if you were 16 years old.

“I have a week more, give me some time” he whispers, his hands cupping your face as if you were the most delicate thing he has ever hold “but for now, let me have this again”

That night you both end up in your house, making up for all the years you both lost.

.

A week later and Oikawa proves to be the same amazing boyfriend that he was before. He still manages to make you blush, manages to prove just how much he missed you.

Now you're in your apartment, he was talking on the phone, an important call that led him to your room -after giving you an apologetic kiss- while you were sitting on the couch. 30 minutes passed when he comes out again, a smile on his face.

“Hey princess” he calls you, pulling you closer as he sits “remember that I'm leaving tomorrow night?”

“Yeah…why?” you were trying to avoid thinking about it, knowing that tomorrow night your heart will be broken again

“Well, I know you said that long distance relationships are impossible for us, but…” he press your forehead closer “will you be able to wait for me every few months?”

“Eh? Stop going around the bush and say it” you hit him slightly, anxious to know what he has planned

“So impatient” he chuckles, kissing you again “tomorrow I'm signing an exclusive contract with Panasonic Panthers. I'm playing for Argentina for the important leagues, meaning VNL, the Olympics and such; but for smaller leagues happening within the country, I'll play here, meaning I can stay here for a few months and come back to Argentina for the rest”

You were ecstatic, shocked with the sudden news about it, you kiss him.

“But…but didn't you go to San Juan because of the coach? Don't you want to stay there?” you ask worried

“Yeah, and it was amazing to be trained by him…but coming here I realized that you are my home, that I want to be with you, and some sacrifices need to be made” he pulls you into his lap, holding you close as he looks at you into your eyes “i already sacrificed you for the sake of my dream, now that my dream became reality, I'm not sacrificing you again”

[chimielie]

cw: and they were roommates

oikawa has another date tonight.

you’re well used to it, the parade of people who he’s gone out with blurring together after years of friendship. especially now that you’ve moved in together and he bothers you every time someone says yes, like an excited puppy with a bone. and who wouldn’t say yes?

you’re lying on your bed, idly scrolling past cat pictures and outfit inspiration, while he blows in and out of your room, begging your opinion on every item in his closet. you don’t know why; you’ve gone through the whole thing a million times at this point and he always chooses just-slightly-too-tight jeans and a button-up open one button too far.

you’ve had nightmares about his collection of silky shirts. nightmares. only occasionally featuring the triangle of exposed chest.

“what about this one?” you roll to your side, blinking.

“i haven’t seen this one before,” you say thoughtfully. “do you still have enough money for rent? i swear you cycle through more clothes than i do in a year in a week.”

“shut up, do you like it?” his ears are burning red, and you smile. you like making him blush.

that’s a dangerous thought, so you turn your attention to his outfit, and—oh.

the new shirt is a cool, pale blue, complimenting the pink hues of his skin perfectly, looking like ice caps on winter waves. it’s tucked loosely into black pants, followed by black boots, laced up and tied with a perfect knot.

he looks like a million bucks.

“it’s perfect,” you say, after a beat too long of drymouthed silence. “um—when do you leave?”

he shoves the sleeve of the shirt up and checks his watch in one smooth motion, and you’ve seen his forearms a billion times, but encased in blue silk you kind of want to bite them? what a bizarre impulse.

“now,” he says, tone rising in panic. “shoot, i was gonna brush my teeth—how’s my breath?”

“how am i supposed to—” you start, but then he’s crossing the room, and you’re sitting up, spine straightening in confusion, and then he kisses you.

one long, hot press of the mouth over yours, his lips soft and open but claiming in a way that sucks every thought out of your head.

the silk of his shirt is cool in contrast to the heat of his skin, too.

“it’s—still fine,” you stammer when he pulls away. “minty. um.”

“perfect,” he says, adjusting his collar like he hasn’t just thrown your world off its axis. “see you later!”

you wave vaguely at his back, still scrambled as he exits your room, though not without turning to shoot you a cheeky wink and a peace sign. once you hear the front door slam shut behind him, you jolt out of your frozen state to fall back onto your bed, staring at the ceiling, just one thought running through your mind.

“what the fuck?”

part 2 here.

[sassycheesecake]

The stadium is bursting with life and energy, people are ready to watch the long awaited game between Argentine and Japan‘s national volleyball team.

You came over to watch your husband play against his high school rivals, it’s been a dream of his ever since he left Japan.

Currently, you’re having a big heart attack, since you only turned around for a second to buy some onigiri snacks for you and your son, to find out said four-year old was just gone.

Panic flows through your veins along with adrenaline, you’re looking for that little brunette boy everywhere, when you remember that Mathéo has probably gone to look for his father.

Luckily at that time, Hajime Iwaizumi, 27-year old Athletic Trainer is currently helping Team Japan stretch for warm up when a heard a familiar voice of a child calling his name.

When the former Ace turns around in confusion, he sees Oikawa’s son, running towards him with big excitement in his dark brown orbs.

'Mathéo surely is a solid copy of his father.' Iwaizumi thinks as he greets his godchild.

"Mathéo, why are you by yourself? Where is your mum or your father?" The brunette crouches down as he looks around in concern to look for you or his best friend.

When you spot your son with Iwaizumi, you breathe out a big sigh of relief but you have to scold your son for pulling a stunt like that.

When the Athletic Trainer hears you, he is relieved that you found him and your son. But he is also happy to see you again, last time he visited you and Oikawa was almost over a year ago.

"Mathéo! Don’t do that again, I was looking everywhere for you! You nearly gave me a heart attack!" You scold the young boy and he looks incredibly guilty, almost ready to cry when he hears that you were so worried.

"I am sorry, mama. I just saw uncle Hajime and I wanted to say hello."

You sigh, feeling bad but also relieved that he is okay.

"I know but don’t run away from me again. Be glad it’s me scolding you and not your father."

"Yes, mama. I'm very sorry." Mathéo looks to the floor for a second, before looking at the Japanese players again, watching them with amazement and a big gleam in his eyes.

When you get up again from your crouched position, Iwaizumi notices something about you.

Your belly is having a small bump again.

"Has Shittykawa really knocked you up again?" He snickers a bit and raises a brow at you in amusement.

"Please don’t remind me, I had a moment of weakness with those eyes of his. Besides, Mathéo really wished for a sibling. He is already four years old. Can you believe that?" You look at your son in amazement and love, he looks exactly like his father, except that he has a very quiet personality, more like yours.

"How far along are you?" Iwaizumi interrupts your thoughts, looking at you with a smile, folding his arms.

"13 weeks now, Tōru really hopes for a girl this time." You grin at the brunette rubbing your stomach a bit.

"You shouldn’t run though, it’s not good for you during your early pregnancy." Still ever the concerned mother duck, Iwaizumi scolds you a bit.

"I know, I know, I was just in a huge panic mode, because I couldn’t find him." You sigh with a smile.

Iwaizumi smiles at you yet again and unbeknownst to you, a few players stopped their warm up, watching the interaction between you and their Athletic Trainer.

"I didn’t know Iwaizumi had a family." Hakuba states.

"Damn, she’s super hot. Too bad she is married ta our Athletic Trainer." Atsumu wiped a towel across his face, his brown eyes still captivated by the woman.

Hinata hears his teammates talking and looks over and sees Iwaizumi and a beautiful, breathtaking woman standing next to him, talking and laughing. For some reason you look very familiar but he can’t remember exactly where he has seen your face before.

All of sudden, you depart from Iwaizumi and the young boy who was watching the Japanese team, comes up to you to hold your hand.

When you turn a bit to see the players, you spot Hinata, giving him a bashful smile and a small wave at him, walking to the sides to look for your husband and his team.

Hinata can’t help but feel like you look extremely familiar, that young boy really reminds him of a certain brown-haired Setter that was once and honestly still is Kageyama‘s archenemy.

Iwaizumi turns back to the group and sees that some of the players are giving him weird looks.

"What?" He asks harshly into the round.

"Since when do you have a wife and a kid??" Suna frowns.

"What are you talking about?" Iwaizumi frowns back in confusion.

"The goddess of beauty itself that was just standin' next ta ya a minute ago." Atsumu clarifies.

"Also, I don’t know if you noticed but the kid looks nothing like you." Kageyama adds as well.

Iwaizumi finally understands but can’t help himself to be ticked off by Kageyama‘s last comment.

"Because she’s not? You have known me for what?Almost four months? You ever seen a ring on me or that woman visiting me at work? She is only a very good friend of mine. She used to be Aoba Johsai’s manager." The Athletic Trainer explains.

"That’s why she looked familiar! Her name is (Y/L/N) (Y/F/N) isn’t it?" Hinata is very excited and hopes to talk to you again, after meeting you in Brazil with Oikawa together almost 6 years ago.

"Well, believe it or not, it’s actually Oikawa (Y/N) now."

Another voice chimes in, the sentence carried with pride and smugness.

Some of the players tense up and almost growl at the sight of Argentine‘s official Setter walking up with an agonizing smirk.

"Nice to see you again Shōyō. Hope you and the suckers behind you are ready to lose." Oikawa just loves to rile people up, seeing the reactions of them are always a blast for him.

"The fuck did ya just say-" Atsumu growls and is ready to physically fight the opponent Setter when they hear that exciting voice again.

"Papa!" At the sound of his son‘s voice, Oikawa immediately turns around with a big smile.

Little steps run towards the brunette and Oikawa bends down to his son‘s height to catch him.

Standing up again to his full height, Mathéo smiles widely with closed eyes as he hugs his father‘s neck.

"Mathéo, this is Shōyō Hinata, your pa played with him in Rio when he visited the city. Can you say 'hi'?"

Mathéo turns to the orange-haired Wing Spiker for a second and immediately hides his face in his father‘s neck.

"Sorry about that, got my dashing looks but his mother‘s shy personality." Oikawa chuckles a bit, patting his son lightly on the back.

Hinata walks a bit closer to Oikawa‘s son, being extremely good with kids.

"Mathéo, do you also want to play volleyball when you grow up like your papa?"

Mathéo turns again to look at the orange-haired Opposite Hitter and hides his face partly to look at Hinata while being attached to his father.

"I do." Mathéo whispers out, still wary of the stranger.

"Maybe later on, you can show Shōyō how good you can receive already." Oikawa suggests to his son and he slowly comes out of his shy shell and nods enthusiastically at his father’s words.

"After of course, your amazingly talented dad has beat every single player. Especially Kageyama or the blonde idiot that only ranked second place in Japan‘s best Setter." Oikawa‘s pointy finger booped the tip of Mathéo‘s nose and the little boy squeals in delight.

"Mama said you shouldn’t say those words. They’re mean." Mathéo's face changes immediately again and he scolds his father, who in return just scoffs lightly at the words.

"Mijo, I am just telling you the truth, watch the game and you‘ll see what I mean."

"Okay papa!"

Oikawa farewells Hinata and wishes him good luck.

When the Setter seeks out his wife, he sees her standing by the sides, talking to some of his teammates.

Making his way towards her, he feels a great amount of pride flowing through his system. He’s got a family now and he is ready to show the world what he’s got.

Unbeknownst to Oikawa, lots of looks of glowering eyes follow the Argentinian Setter‘s movements, getting riled up by his words, they are ready to fight.

Let the battle begin.

[teamatsumu]

kinktober 2023 -> day 3

phone sex - oikawa tooru x reader

word count: 1,061

kinktober masterlist

The hallway was alive with chatter, and you were sure you would have missed your phone ringing in the noise if it wasn’t already in your hand. You frowned at the contact name, confused why your boyfriend was calling you. According to your calculations, it was almost midnight in Argentina right now, so why was he awake?

“Tooru?” You answered, using a finger to plug your other ear so you could hear him better over the noise of the students crowding your university hallways. You could barely make out shuffling on the other end of the line, before Oikawa’s familiar voice broke through.

“Heyyyy.” He whined, immediately following it with a giggle. You rolled your eyes and felt your lip twitch with amusement.

“Tooru, why are you still up?” You hiked your bag higher on your shoulder as you made your way through the halls. “You have practice tomorrow.”

You heard a thud on the line, followed by a curse. “I missed you, Y/N-chan~”

Oh. You sighed when the realization hit you. “Are you drunk?”

“No!” Came the instant reply. “Only a little tipsy.”

You bit back a laugh at how indignant he sounded. There was another thud and another curse, this time in Spanish, and your lips twitched in amusement.

“You okay there, champ?” You teased, almost imagining Oikawa stumbling around his home.

“‘M just tryna get out of these damn clothes.” He mumbled, before you heard another soft thump and a relieved sigh.

“Finally in bed?” You asked. “Get some rest now.”

“Nooo..” Oikawa trailed off. “Talk to me. I miss you.”

You sighed. “You need to get up super early tomorrow, baby. And I know you’re tired. You need to sleep.”

“I miss your face.” Oikawa continued talking, as if he hadn’t even heard you. You weren’t surprised. Sober Oikawa was hard enough to deal with, drunk Oikawa was insufferable.

“If you were here, I would cuddle you.” He rambled on. “You’d feel so good against me right now. Y’know I’m completely naked? Bet you’d be naked too if you were here. God, I’d just dip my fingers into your pussy to see how we-”

“Tooru!” You yelled, eyes nearly popping out of your head at how the conversation (one-sided as it was) took a turn. You cursed internally when a few people turned around to look at you at the noise, frantically looking around for a more private place. You ducked into the door which said ‘restroom’ on it, mere feet away from where you were standing. The noise from the hall faded away.

“What the hell?” You continued, walking closer to the sinks, relieved that the bathroom was empty.

“I’m horny!” Your boyfriend whined on the other end.

“Well, I can’t do anything about that right now!” You snapped, checking the stalls to see that they were also thankfully empty.

“Yes you can!” He shot back. “C’mon, tell me what you’re wearing.”

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. This fucker. “I’m at uni, Tooru. Be serious.”

“Please, baby.” He whined again, though this time it was more breathy. Your eyes widened when you realized he was probably touching himself. “‘M so hard. And it’s been so long. God, I miss your body. I miss your voice.”

You felt yourself clench at the thought of Tooru running his hand over himself right now. You looked around at the completely empty bathroom, biting your lip in contemplation. Were you really going to do this?

One more image of Oikawa laid out naked and turned on, of his glorious body and roughed up chestnut hair, was enough for you to make your decision.

“Okay.” You breathed out. “Hold on.”

You rushed to lock the bathroom door, moving into a stall and locking that too for extra measure. “Fuck, okay.”

“Talk to me.” You heard him on the other end, almost begging. You sighed and pushed your hand into your pants, biting your lip when your fingers brushed your clit. This was going to be quick and messy, you could already tell.

“I’m,” you gulped. “I’m touching myself.”

A groan. “Yeah?” He sounded so wrecked already. God. You realized in that moment how badly you had missed him too.

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “Touching my clit. Feels good.”

Oikawa cursed. “Keep going, baby. Push down harder. Then put a finger inside.”

You followed his instructions, allowing yourself to let out a little moan at the feeling of being filled, albeit only slightly.

“God, I can imagine you right now.” Oikawa rambled on, and you could almost hear the sound of his hand moving, slightly wet, probably from the precum. “Bet you’re already soaking for me, aren’t you? Bet you miss my cock.”

“I do!” You whined, now fully immersed and overcome with pleasure, sliding another finger inside your hole. “‘S not the same, Tooru. Miss your big cock. Miss being filled to the brim.”

“S-shit, baby.” His voice sounded so broken, and it pushed you even closer to the edge. “I miss your pussy all the time. Can’t wait to get back and fuck you until you can’t walk. God, I’m gonna ruin you. Just let me come back. Let me come back.”

His ramblings were getting nonsensical, but his voice was wrecked and you moaned at the sound, your orgasm building far quicker than you anticipated, your movement growing frantic.

“Tooru, I’m so close.”

“M-me too. Fuck. C’mon baby, come all over your fingers like a good girl. You do that and I’ll give you my cock when I get back. I’ll fuck you five different ways. Just come for me right now, Y/N. Come.”

You moaned as your orgasm finally hit, letting Oikawa talk you through it with his silver tongue. You listened as he announced his own release, getting off on the sound of his curses and broken groans and using them to prolong your own orgasm. By the time you were done, you were sweaty and out of breath.

All was silent for a few minutes as you readjusted your clothes, putting your phone to your ear once again and not hearing anything except Oikawa’s steady breathing. You nearly snorted.

Bastard fell asleep immediately after cumming. Figures.

You dropped him a goodnight text before ending the call, unlocking the door and going about your way as if nothing had happened in the bathroom stall.

Taglist:

@bxbyyyjocelyn @thisbicc @lazuliquartzz @dreamayy @kuroosluthoe @true-form-hoe @akumakitsune21 @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y @samisfunky @universal-s1ut @msbyomimi i @dohwaesu @leothesquishy @n0tmykays @tsukiran @reyofsunshinelol @bleach-your-panties @galaneiaeris @leyra-giovanni @erenspersonalwh0re @peachesncats @soapsoftheworld @iwannabecamiloshovel

A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!

[realcube]

dilf december

day three ⭑ toru oikawa ⭑ sugar daddy x reader

tw : nsfw minors dni, age gap, implied sugar baby dynamic, vaginal fingering, slight impact play.

a downside to being a professional volleyball player is the lack of longevity. most players are put out of work by thirty; some may make it to thirty-five, if they're lucky. but generally after they've reached that age, they have past their prime and their athletic performance begins to decline.

for oikawa, his thriving volleyball career reached a glorious finish at thirty-three. he still does interviews and associates with the argentinian volleyball league, but his time as a player had ended.

but a massive perk to being a professional volleyball player that largely nullifies the previous issue, is that the money he made and the fame he gained during his short-lived time as a player was enough to last him for the rest of his life.

even at fourty-three, he is filthy rich: living in his big house by the seaside, appearing on national television and making guest appearances on shows and news outlets constantly. paparazzi swarms him whenever he steps foot out the door, journalists continue publishing articles about his legacy and magazines still beg him to be on their front cover. the headlines would read: "top ten men who only get hotter with age!"

however, he rarely indulges in satisfying the media anymore; he prefers to stay private these days. not because he doesn't love seeing himself in the media, because he undoubtable does, but rather because he doesn't want them catching wind of his new relationship. the age difference might stir up controversy.

not that either of you thought there was anything wrong with it. when he first saw you at the private golf club, working as a cart girl, he thought you were just the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on — baring in mind, he's had oppertunies to do photoshoot with famous models, but all of them were nothing in comparison to you — and your age had nothing to do with this.

meanwhile, you've always had a soft spot for an older gentlman with a pretty face and fat wallet. so it was only natural that he two of you immediately clicked, and in less than three months, you had moved in with him.

which is why you are currently laying in the centre of your queen-sized bed, chest pressed flush against your eiderdown bedding while your nose is buried in your phone, doing whatever you please. but out of the corner of your eye, you see your bedroom door creep open and a voice call out, "guess who?"

you purse your lips and furrow your brows in thought, "hm, i don't know."

he scoffs and steps out into the room to reveal himself, sauntering over to the bed and playfully flicking your forehead, "silly girl. don't even recognise your own boyfriend, huh?" he takes a seat at the side of the bed, and since you are laying on your front, he is able to place a hand on the back of your thigh and caress your tender skin.

"i suppose not." you murmur, still typing away on your phone, prompting him to lightly smack your ass.

"put that thing down. pay attention, sweetie. i've not seen you all day." he says with a smile, gazing lovingly at you.

while you simply roll your eyes, placing your phone anyway but still huffing in disinterest. "why should i? you barely pay attention to me, like, at all. you've been busy all week. we don't get to spend any time to together."

"i know, baby, and i'm so sorry. i've just got so many things to do."

"like what? i thought you were supposed to be retired.."

"i am, but work never really ends." he chuckles awkwardly, "i've got interviews to do and they still ask me to visit the team to give speeches to boost morale. it's a waste of my time, really."

you don't seem to impressed by this reply. your small 'hmph' prompts him to continue.

"but that's not an excuse, i'd rather be spending time with you, my gorgeous girl." he says solemnly, leaning in to place long kiss against the exposed skin of your thigh. "we will spend the weekend together. just us, with no distractions. we can do whatever you like. how does that sound?"

he waits patiently for your response, but you lay there with your hand propping up your chin, simply averting your gaze. he takes your silence as a response again and continues, "we can go shopping n' by you whatever you like. some new shoes, or clothes. maybe a new birkin, or whatever handbag it is that the new generation of women obsess over—"

"coach.." you reply plainly.

"right." he nods, "or we can get you a new phone. you mentioned needing an upgrade. plus, i don't like the front camera on your current one; it makes my eyes look asymmetrical." he cringes at the misrepresentation of his lethal facecard.

"i guess it would be fun to spend the weekend with you." you mumble, hesitantly gazing over your shoulder at him, "i really missed you, toru."

"you don't need to miss me, baby, i'm right here." he reassures you in a quiet tone. gently gripping the flesh of your plush thigh as he leans in to plant a sweet kiss against your lips. it lasts a while before he returns to his seat on the edge of the bed. this is when you begin to feel his hand creep from your mid-thigh, up and under your skirt until it was rested on your ass.

"in fact, let's start spending some quality time together right now." he kneeds the skin for a moment before his fingers curve inwards, and dip down between your thighs, brushing against your clothed pussy. he toys with your hole a little, and lovingly massages your clit and labia, basking in how wet he is making you and the cute moans and mewls that slip from your throat.

he pulls the fabric aside once he has you sopping enough for his liking, but continues to only tease your hole with his fingers. pressing against it and feigning penetration to get you needy and desperate for him.

"has this cute pussy been needing me all day?" he muses, playing with your clit under the rough pads of his fingers.

"uhuh.." you whine, arching into his touch.

"oh, poor baby." he says tauntingly, then proceeds to smack your ass, causing you to gasp. however, he simultaneously pushes to finger into your aching hole, which makes a lewd moan immediately follow your deep gasp.

he only chuckles, amused by your reaction to his ploy. it doesn't take him long before he starts thrusting his thick fingers in and out of your pussy, gradually building up a moderate yet rough pace. two fingers is enough to strain your tight walls, and he adores how each vulgar thrust is enough to elicit another loud moan from you.

since you have been deprived of sexual attention for so long, you had already got yourself so worked up at the idea of oikawa, that you end up finishing quicker than usual. creaming around his fingers and arching back into himself, letting him fuck your wet hole through your orgasm.

once he's done, you collapse onto your front, breathless, and he lays down next to you. turning his head so your faces are inches away from each other, "and there's more to come, princess."

[mrs-kodzuken]

listening to you ⟢ tooru o.

synopsis: being the quiet girl had its perks until you were discovered by the only and only Tooru Oikawa. He's made his advances towards you before, to where you shook him off, but this time you both get close. That's when he discovers your huge, loud, adoring family—a complete opposite from you.

other: high school!oikawa x quiet!fem!reader, reader is Matsukawa's little cousin, family gathering, oikawa falls head over heels, fluff, high school love

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath in, mentally groaning, preparing yourself because you somehow got the attention of Oikawa yet again. No matter how much effort you tried to blend in, no make up, no differing hairstyles from the other girls, nothing to make you stand out, he always found you.

Before he could reach you, you grabbed your lunch and quickly walked towards the door that led to the staircase of the rooftop.

Students weren’t allowed up there but you were always swift about it, constantly eating lunch up there without anyone knowing. That was the one place you were safe from Oikawa at.

Once you finally settled down on the ground, you were able to enjoy your lunch that your mother always packs you, with a small note of encouragement too. You sighed as the wind blew, wishing Oikawa would just leave you alone.

You had helped him with a homework question once because you had crammed the math equations in your head all summer before school started so you would never fall behind. It was an anxiety thing for you, all your parents could do was encourage you to try your best and say that it would all work out in the end.

However, when you magically solved ‘the hardest question ever’ Oikawa claimed, he tried attaching himself to you since.

Every so often Oikawa would try to ask you out, make little flirty comments, or something of the sort since you apparently ‘saved his life’ with the homework question before it was due. However, it got exhausting trying to avoid this newfound friend, if he’s even that.

You had rejected Oikawa because you knew him, you knew that he was so consumed with volleyball, hence the reason his last girlfriend broke up with him.

Dating Oikawa would not be serious and that went against everything you stood for. You never told him that, you hardly told him anything to be honest. However, that didn’t stop him from constantly pestering you to know more about you.

You groaned when the burning sun got too much for you and made you pack up the empty lunch box and head inside of the building.

You wished you could leave Oikawa out of your head but you simply couldn’t, he never tired—to him, this was like volleyball, you intrigued him and now he won’t stop.

“You know, no students are supposed to be up there, right? I never pegged you to be a bad kid, Y/n-chan.” You didn’t even have to turn around to know who was talking to you. Leave it to Oikawa to know where you were at all of lunch.

And the fact that absolutely no one calls you Y/n-chan either was a dead giveaway—and the fact that he immediately put you on a first name basis.

“Hi, Oikawa.” You curtly said, trying to get around him and head to class, not really wanting to deal with his antics right after lunch.

“Awe, Y/n-chan, spare me a couple more minutes please?” He whined, still following you to your class, which was separate from his too.

“Okay, fine. What?” You had your limits, and Oikawa always tried to push them, it’s been this way for almost an entire month.

“Come with me after school? I have a surprise for you,” He smirked, wanting you to meet his team. You don’t have any extracurricular activities either so it would be perfect.

The bell was about to ring, and for you it made you anxious, you just wanted to be in class and not be late.

“Okay, okay fine. I have to go.” You left him standing in the hallway without any regard to how he was going to be late for class as you rushed into your own.

Oikawa on the other hand didn’t if he was late, you agreed to something he asked for the first time ever. He breesly walked to class, not caring about being late nor the slap he got from Iwaizumi either.

Oikawa knew he wanted to prove to you that he actually likes you, he can always see the skepticism on your face when he asks you out.

Granted, he’s gotten discouraged sometimes and wanted to leave you alone but being your friend was better than nothing to him. And, he has priorities too, he’s not just some aloof guy who had tunnel vision for just volleyball—although he does love it.

After classes were over, Oikawa tried taking your hand in his—to which you in the blink of an eye yanked it away from him—he led you to the gym where he practices. You could hear the volleyballs, the squeaking of shoes, and minimal talking and laughing in the background.

Anxiety spiked in your stomach, “I’m not going in there, you realize that right?” You backed away, a hint of disdain in your voice. After the amount of time he’s been attached to you and didn’t realize that you wouldn’t do that was kind of weird to you.

“What? You don’t want to meet my team?” Oikawa asked, with puppy dog eyes, pleading with his hands together.

“No, Oikawa, I’m not meeting your team—I just, I don’t want to.” You turned away, adjusting your bag and preparing to walk home, not explaining more to him about the why.

You never really gave Oikawa a goodbye when you leave, you realize.

“Wait, Y/n, I won’t make you meet them. Do you have to go, though?” He genuinely asked, devising to ask you to come see something else, wanting more time with you.

“I…No, I don’t have to go, just don’t make me go in there.” You confessed, letting him have more of your time that you swore to yourself that you wouldn’t give him.

“Thank you, follow me, I promise it’s nothing bad.” He half smiled, something genuine instead of the smirks he constantly flashes you.

You reluctantly followed him as he led you around the gym, to the backside of it. It was a surprise when you saw a lot of cherry blossom trees, their petals were everywhere, it looked magical.

“This is where I come to hideout sometimes, I think it’s very calming.” You looked at him in awe, setting your bag to the side once you sat down on the grass. Oikawa knew it was different being with you, you could let Oikawa talk for a while and he would know you were listening because that’s just who you were.

You were different too, you didn’t fawn over him or try to constantly get his attention or make yourself an obstacle in his way when he was in a hurry. Sometimes it was hard to really be himself and keep a facade when he just wanted to be by himself.

He doesn’t get that feeling with you though, that’s why he’s been trying so hard to woo you. He stared at you while you looked around at the trees, probably loving the sight when the wind blew.

It would gently wake up the petals and twirl them around in the air for a small dance before moving them to new spots.

When he settled next to you, being sure not to repeat his mistake from earlier and touch you without your consent, he set his head back onto the tree bark. Being able to talk free of anyone judging him is what he also loved about being with you.

“Yeah, and I take my nephew—his name is Takero—to volleyball classes on Monday’s because that’s when the team takes a break from practice.” Oikawa prattled on, you played with the soft, pink petals that littered the ground underneath the cherry blossom tree.

You never realized that Oikawa actually liked a place like this either. Maybe you put a small stereotype on him when you realized that he was pining for you.

He continued about his parents after finishing telling you about some of his childhood experiences with his older sister, she sounded like a delight.

He left you there to listen to him, which wasn’t a pain as you actually got to hear who the real Oikawa was and that made you smile during some of the stories he told you. Once he was finished opening up, he peered his gaze towards you.

He wanted to know you too, you realized that he created this conversation discussion to also hear about you. That didn’t happen, you both sat in silence that was only awkward on your end.

He watched your face, tracing every bit of it with his eyes, stamping it to his memory.

Oikawa really fancied being here with you, watching your movements of how you apply chapstick, play with the ends of your hair, and other small tid-bits. However, after a few minutes trail by, he realized that neither one of you were speaking and he was just staring at you.

You could see Oikawa getting curious about your reluctance to talk about your family, you genuinely didn’t know where to even start either. You chewed on your lip, which didn’t go unnoticed by him either.

Your family was incredible and they have respected you since the beginning so you never had a reason to be ashamed of them.

Moreso, you were ashamed of the fact that you weren’t like them. You would give anything to not be the oddball of the family, even though they wouldn’t have it any other way.

However, you weren’t about to open up about your deepest insecurities to a third year who didn’t know anything about you. In his mind though, he was curious about your home situation, the thoughts were endless for him.

What if you didn’t get along with your family and he was pushing boundaries he didn’t know were there? Or perhaps you had a single parent, or grandparent, or even an aunt or uncle.

He knew that no matter what it was, he wanted to be respectful to you and your kin. After realizing you preferred the traditional ways of dating, he was piecing together the perfect opportunity to ask your family—or guardian—to date you.

“I want to ask you out the right way Y/n.” Oikawa started, not looking at you anymore but the side of the gym for the fact that he could hear his teammates leaving the gym and realized he skipped an entire practice to be here with you.

“Can I meet your family and ask for permission?” He finished, a caring smile he gave you, only you in that moment. Your heart skipped a beat too, you bit the inside of your cheek, trying to refrain from the blush you could feel coat your cheeks.

You never, ever thought that the Oikawa Tooru would ask you to meet your family in order to ask you out. You figured he would have just gotten bored at that point. You nod, actually allowing it this time. How he figured it out? You have no clue.

You both got up from underneath the cherry blossom tree, you collected some so you could press them later too.

Oikawa made a little stop at the corner store so he could buy flowers for when he asked, it made him nervous when he saw you resisting a giggle as you waited on him.

Seeing you happy like that was something Oikawa never wanted to share with anyone else. He walked a step behind you on the sidewalk to your house because he wanted you to lead the way, obviously not knowing where you lived.

You swiftly pulled out a card from your bag as you both arrived at a pristine white, large gate. You swiped the card through which allowed you to enter, hearing the small creaks from the gate with Oikawa following shortly behind, he was in awe that you lived within an actual gated community.

However, as he followed you, he stared at the sight of quite a large family outside, they were enjoying the weather.

He could tell by the sports that were being played, the smoke from the grill, and small children drawing on the sidewalk.

He smiled at the sight, enjoying the happiness that he got from seeing a family like that. It made him wonder—and get nervous again—about the fact that he was going to actually meet yours within a few short minutes.

Although, imagine Oikawa’s surprise when you turn down that driveway and wave to your little cousins who were chalking very colorful pictures on the sidewalk.

“Wait, Y/n, this is your family?” Oikawa asked, sounding taken aback that this was your family.

You peered behind you as you grabbed the door knob to open the front door, “Yes…?”

His brown eyes stared back in awe, and you half smiled, entering the house. After taking off your shoes, you did your afternoon routine in which he just stood there, waiting for you.

He soaked in all of the pictures on the walls, counters, bookshelves, everything. Seeing pictures of you when you were a kid was something he wanted to so badly coo over but he had to do something before he could.

“Everyone’s outside,” You motioned towards the back, grabbing Oikawas’ attention from the pictures he couldn’t help but to stare at.

“Oh, okay. Let’s go then,” He gathered himself and accidentally tightened his hand on the flowers a bit too tight as he walked with you. When you both stepped outside onto the patio, he got a full view of your family, they were so picture perfect, like that kind family that’s in the movies.

However, he was extra shocked, his jaw slacking basically on the ground when he saw Mattsun there.

“Y/n, is Mattsun a part of your family?” He questioned, pointing at his teammate, knowing it was bad manners but did it anyway. That gathered Mattsukawa’s attention and came closer to talk to his team captain.

“Hey Kawa, didn’t know I’d see you here. You missed practice, Iwaizumi was not happy.” Mattsun smirked, giving you a small side hug, something that you both always gave each other at these family reunions.

“Yeah, yeah,” Oikawa rolled his eyes, “I was busy, why didn’t you say anything about Y/n being a part of your family? You’ve listened to me talk about her for a while!” Oikawa groaned, embarrassed that he was actually whining to his friend who was kin to the girl he likes.

Mattsun chuckled, “I didn’t think it was important, and she would’ve told you if she wanted you to know, isn’t that right?” He looked down at you, making you shimmy out of the side hug.

“Go play ball, I got to find my dad,” You motioned for Mattsun to leave and urged Oikawa to come with you, you swallowed harshly, the excitement that Oikawa was doing this for you never going away.

“There’s my little girl!” Your dad exclaims as you walked towards him, he had on an apron with ‘best cook’ written on it, it was his favorite to use at these reunions. That was mostly to get at his brother—your uncle, Mattsun’s dad.

“Hi dad, I brought someone who wants to meet you.” You smiled, making way for Oikawa. You hoped he was being serious when he said he would do this the traditional way.

“Hi sir, I’m here because I like your daughter and wanted to know if I had your permission to take her on a date?” He swiftly said, handing your father the flowers, glad that the only sign of nervousness was his sweaty palms that he wiped on his school uniform pants.

“Ahh, my wife will love these, thank you. You’re the one who's been bugging my little girl haven't you? Go ahead, it’s okay.” Your dad chuckled, ruffling your hair, he loved to see that his kid—not accepting that you’re almost an adult within a few years—was happy.

“Thank you, sir.” Oikawa smiled brightly, a twinkle in his eyes, and that’s when you saw the little rosiness on his cheeks, he fancied you so much, you realized.

Oikawa then spent the next fifteen minutes speaking with your family, getting to know them, especially your mom—not Mattsun though.

After that, he had asked your mom where you went, “Oh, Y/n’s probably in her room, go see if she’s okay for me.” Your mom winked at him as he waved and went inside.

Once Oikawa finally figured out which room was yours, he gently knocked and went in when a small ‘come in’ was heard.

“Hi Y/n,” He smiled softly, enjoying to see this side of you, hoping that since he’s done this the traditional way, you’d finally take him more seriously. He watched your form put your book down, your window was open, you liked listening to your family, but enjoyed also being by yourself.

To his surprise, you gave him a wide smile, “Hi Tooru,” You said, effectively making his heart skip a beat in response.

Oikawa knew that you were worth the wait to figure out.

a/n: soft oikawa pining for reader jus does smth for me, i hope you like it!! <33 & requests are open!