#argentinian oikawa

[nekofra]

HAIKYUU TIMESKIP GETTING ANIMATED

[iwaoiness]

In the Argentine volleyball team, arriving late for training comes with the Blanco's famous penalty of thirty-three laps around the block, and captain Javier's fifteen-minute reprimand. Oikawa has only been late on rare occasions, yet even his most charming flutter of eyelashes couldn't exempt him from the punishment. He endured it, unfortunately accompanied by the teasing of Matias and Bruno—those two, inexplicably, are the only ones who are punctual alongside the captain.

However, that day, when Oikawa arrives ten minutes late at one of the Olympic Village gymnasiums, almost out of breath, his hair disheveled and still wet from the quickest shower he has had in his thirty years, he doesn't hear Javier's ché, boludo tardón that always starts his reprimands, nor does he hear Blanco loudly instructing Tomás to get ready with the stopwatch and the punishment sheet.

That day, everyone stares at him with wide, blinking eyes. The ball Bruno was holding slips from his grasp, the sound of its bounce being the only thing breaking the sepulchral silence.

Oikawa frowns, tilting his head slightly.

"What?"

"Hermano," Matias arches an eyebrow with genuine curiosity, though his eyes sparkle with amusement, putting Oikawa on high alert "since when do you play for the Japanese national team?"

This further confuses Tooru, who blinks.

"The hell are you talking about, boludo?"

The libero points to his shirt and Oikawa looks down.

Oh.

He's not wearing his favorite blue training shirt, but a slightly baggy black one at his shoulders, with the Japanese flag stitched on it at his heart.

And then he remembers this morning. How they woke up late, almost stumbling because neither of the two damn alarms went off. How they rushed to the shower, too small for two tall and strong adults. How Tooru had a fit of giggles when Hajime mistook the cherry lube for his after-shave lotion. How they quickly got dressed in the first things they grabbed, barely glancing at their clothes, before kissing, wishing each other a good day, and running off to their respective teams.

Oh, la concha de la lora.

Oikawa's eyes widen comically, and he ignores the tug on his neck as he quickly raises his head. Feeling the heat boiling on his face, he now meets the playful gazes of his teammates—even Blanco coughs to hide his smile.

"This has a completely logical explanation!" he stammers, glaring at Matias as his devilish grin widens.

"Really? And that logic is tall, dark skinned, and part of Japan's technical team, Toto?"

But when Tooru, his face now completely red, opens his mouth to protest, a solid knocks on the door interrupts.

Everyone turns to look, and Oikawa sees Iwa-chan standing in the doorway, just as embarrassed—if not more so—than him. Instead of his regulation black shirt, he’s wearing Oikawa's blue one, tight around his torso, with the Argentine flag in the center.

"Sorry to interrupt," he apologizes with his accented Spanish. "Can I borrow Tooru for a second?"

"All yours, Hajime!" Bruno chimes in, nudging Tooru forward playfully, sticking his tongue out as the setter glares daggers at him.

"But don't keep him out too long. The penalty waits him" José Blanco requests, widening his smile as Hajime nods firmly before taking Tooru's hand and pulling him outside, ignoring his childish protest.

...

i love them with my whole heart

u can find me on my ao3 🍉

[anpanman95]

Oikawa is Argentinian

[trans: ‘what’d ya say idiot?’ — in a condescending tone, ft. a very Argentinian hand gesture]

so im Argentinian and I just KNOW he’d learn all the slang to make fun of Ushijima and Kageyama—no one can convince me otherwise. also having him on my country’s team is THE biggest flex

[muncaster]

being a haikyuu fan is so hard wdym ihave to be up at 3am tmrw morning to watch olympic volleyball

[skittenz]

[argentiniancharactertournament]

ROUND 1 PART 7

[2wintails]

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/09/04/books/booksupdate/buenos-aires-argentina-books.html?unlocked_article_code=1.Jk4.jHlg.EiLLF3f9bVNt&smid=nytcore-ios-share&referringSource=articleShare&sgrp=c-cb

Gift link! Read your way across Buenos Aires from the NYT

Uh oh I'm having toto thoughts!!!!!!! Clear the area!!!!!!!!

[kurooangel]

which haikyuu boys would go crazy for a girl that LOVES to suck cock? and how would they react if she was eager to do it anytime he wanted head? :3

₊˚⊹  good girl .ᐟ

content: smut. timeskip!haikyuu. oral m!receiving. pet names.

featuring: oikawa toru 𖦹 tsukishima kei 𖦹 ushijima wakatoshi 𖦹 kozume kenma. ۶ৎ

AN: ahhhh I found this so hard to choose just a few. tysm for your req!!

★ oikawa toru .ᐟ

his mind goes wild when you run your tongue over his length. his eyes roll back and his hand goes immediately to your cheek to cup it while you look at him with those damn foxy eyes. he never felt so happy before, he has to recall on his mind the whole argentinian football team to not finish because it's way too much for him. you're so eager to take him in your mouth and he can't resist your pretty face, and after that, he's all yours. messi, dibu martínez, shit im going to cum, julian álvarez...

★ tsukishima kei .ᐟ

he gets so cocky when you suck his dick, especially because of how much you want to do it. he loves to tease you, but deep down, he is at your mercy. of course, you'll never know that. "such a good girl. c'mon, take a bit more of my dick" tsuki says, husky voice as he pulls your hair and sinks his hardness a bit deeper inside your mouth. your swollen lips surrounding his dick as your tongue circles around it while your split runs down your chin. it's the best feeling of your life.

★ ushijima wakatoshi .ᐟ

he gulps when you start kissing his abs. is a thing he got used to with the time, but at first, at the beginning of your intimacy together, surprised him. you're always so eager to have him in your mouth, and he groans when you finally take him. the warmth of your mouth surrounding his hardness while he caresses your hair and mumbles praises for you. he gets so lost in pleasure when you're sucking his dick, just as you. your eyes are blank and you moan against his cock, vibrations making it twist and grow harder in your mouth. he'll never get tired.

★ kozume kenma .ᐟ

he is focused on his game, but he cannot resist your pretty eyes pleading for him to let you suck his dick. "I swear I won't be loud, you won't even notice I'm under your desk" you whine, already kneeling down and between his legs. he sighs and nods, a small smile in his face. "fine" he groans when you lick all his length, from the base to the tip, biting his lower lip as he caresses your cheek.

[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."

[haikyu-mp4]

Gorgeous – Oikawa x reader wc 410 – f!reader, angst

In your second year of high school, you were approached by a tall guy who wanted you to be a manager for the volleyball team. You thought he was gorgeous – the kind of guy who would check all the boxes of a magazine, make even a grown woman do a double take on the street and make you reconsider your interests.

Unfortunately, you had no interest in joining another club when you already enjoyed the one you were in, but you were convinced to watch their games. Oikawa knew he was just as gorgeous under the court lights, and it showed.

Learning the rules of volleyball came gradually, and you kept going to the games very regularly, learning the Aoba Johsai chant so you could cheer along.

Oikawa noticed you. Every time, he would find you in the crowd and send you a short wave. Not an overly posed peace sign or a flirtatious wink, just a wave. Then he started finding you in school, showing you every hiding place he knew because he just couldn’t stay away.

“I won't be around after high school,” he informed you one time when you were leaning against him in a broom closet.

“Good. I’m proud of you.” You sighed, lifting your head from his chest to find the chocolate swirls in his eyes. “Would be a pain to fall in love with you now, wouldn’t it?” you whispered while affectionately tucking some of his hair behind his ear. He leaned into your touch, eyes moving away with guilt, just like he would a few weeks after graduation.

Even when you graduated a year later, your gorgeous high school sweetheart was the one who got away. The one who got Argentinian citizenship and recently sent you his monthly update with a picture of the certificate, a silent warning that he wouldn’t come home. Not to you at least. So you start moving on.

Then in ten years, when he’s nearing retirement age and asked more frequently what plans he has for that time of his life, he catches himself thinking about you. You and your husband, Iwaizumi, found each other in your loss of a great friend and recently announced that you were pregnant with your first child.

“I hope to find my peace,” he’ll answer the interviewers cryptically, avoiding any incantation of the word love. Because how can love ever feel the same when it’s not your hand running through his hair?

masterlist

[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”

[iwaoiness]

Finally, Japan wins against Argentina in the Olympics and Iwaizumi, after the euphoria and joining in the collective hug with the whole team, approaches the net and passes under it, smiling when he sees Oikawa with a pout and his arms crossed.

"This game doesn't count," he mutters, but hugs Hajime tightly when he wraps his arms around him, his big hand warm against his back, between his shoulder blades.

"You played an amazing match" Iwaizumi swears, voice low and deep, just for Oikawa to hear.

And Oikawa believes him. He absolutely believes him. They played a good match, they were better (much, much better than against USA), but they weren't the six strongest. And that's fine. Because the world doesn't end. The world keeps turning, volleyball keeps existing, matches keep being played, opportunities keep coming, Hajime always stays.

"Make sure to avenge me against the USA, Iwa-chan."

Hajime chuckles, lifting his head to meet Oikawa's eyes. Oikawa smiles, soft and affectionate, only slightly tired but not defeated. And that's all Iwaizumi wants in the world.

He gives Oikawa a squeeze around the waist.

"And you, babe, make sure to avenge me against Germany."

...

JUST WAIT UNTIL I HAVE TIME THIS WEEK TO IMPROVE THIS DRABBLE BECAUSE IM STILL SCREAMING SINCE THE MATCH ENDED

[kings-highway]

the argentinian volleyball team getting the surprise of their life when they recruit this super talented young setter from Japan and immediately unleash pandora's box online as seemingly every volleyball player in Japan decides they need to voice their opinion on it right now

teammate: jesus toto these guys wont leave you alone what the hell did you do to them?

oikawa, sweating: i may have left an impression okay?

[dearest-tobio]

"so this is it?"

oikawa's eyes glimmer with the tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. he surveys your face, a mirror of his own. the logical reply is to affirm that this is, indeed, the last time you will see each other, in the coming-and-goings of a busy airport.

despite the words already on the tip of his tongue, he doesn't bring himself to say it. 

he can't bring himself to say it.

instead he pulls a thin sheet of polaroid film tucked away in the folds of his jacket, fingers shaking as he passes it to you. "remember that road trip with iwa, mattsun and makki?" he laughs, devoid of mirth. "dancing under the stars?" 

you stare at the picture, a bullet shattering the last shield to your defences. "yeah," you whisper, mustering the little energy you had left. "the first time you told me you loved me."

the photograph passes from him to you. the memories flash in your head: raucous sing-alongs to songs on the car radio, dim blaze of the makeshift campfire, gentle feel of oikawa's lips on yours. these trips were the hallmark of your friendship of five, but with everyone moving everywhere, you wonder if you could ever experience another. 

"this isn't goodbye."

"oh, tooru." you giggle, despite it all. "when will you learn that you can't have everything? no matter how hard you try."

"i can," he insists stubbornly, gripping the handle of his suitcase with burning fervor. "argentina's just five years, ten—"

"and who's to say that we won't fall out of love then? i won't fall out of love then?"

the remark is a knife piercing oikawa's already bleeding heart. it hurts you just as much as it has wounded him, but you knew that it needed to be said. he has to learn to let go.

oikawa glances down at the watch on his wrist—a gift from you on your first anniversary. he remembers why you decided to buy it for him. your laugh, ringing through the air as you remarked: "so you can't weasel your way out of being late for our dates anymore."

the hands are damning. two hours before his flight leaves. two hours before he departs for a country miles away from everything he's ever known: his family, his friends, you.

"thanks for taking the time to see me off at the airport," he clips, barreling away from the topic at hand. "do stay in touch."

he turns away from you, struck by how it's too much to bear. his rationale screams at him to hold you close one last time, but his pride insists on moving forward. he makes his way towards the immigration gates, when he realises he has one thing left to say. tilting his head to face you, he smiles the smile you fell in love with as he makes his final plea:

"wait for me to come home."

the same six words come to mind as you hover your mouse over the option of buying tickets to the upcoming netherlands and argentina mens' volleyball match.  foolish, you think. he's moved on. he's forgotten. yet you can't help but click the purchase button, and now you find yourself amidst the throngs of supporters in tokyo national stadium.

after all these years, oikawa tooru is still as radiant as ever.

he is wrapped in swathes of argentinian blue, glowing with confidence in his skills. a shaky pass from his teammate doesn't deter the expertise of his set: he tosses it in a graceful arc towards his team's ace, who then smashes it without remorse to the dutch side of the court.

the match continues with argentina strengthening the lead, enabling them to win three to none. all throughout, oikawa dazzles. you expect no less from the boy you loved. the boy you love.

before heading for the train back home to miyagi, you dare yourself to take a peek at the boisterous celebrations on court. oikawa is hoisted on to a teammate's shoulder as they crack open bottles of champagne, yelling out exclamations of joy in a language foreign to your ears. by chance, oikawa's eyes meet yours, and it is like you're back at the starry night so many years ago, swaying in his arms. 

he climbs down from his raised pedestal, rushing in hasty steps to make his way to you. as he envelops you in a hug, you are unable to discern between the longing and exhilaration rushing in your veins, so you giggle. despite it all.

"i'm home."

masterlist

[sleepynoons]

ALMOND EYES BY CLAVITA – oikawa tooru (hq) x afab!f!reader, nsfw / 18+

genre – fluff, smut, crack word count – ~2,100 warnings – facetime/phone sex, sex toys (vibrator), overstimulation, mutual masturbation, slight exhibitionism, slight hand fetish synopsis – the two of you have managed to find balance in your long-distance relationship, but it's been especially challenging this time around, after having been separated for several months. it doesn't help that your boyfriend's being particularly evasive about his return for christmas, and you're at a loss as to what to do. notes – did my best to look up some argentinian cultural stuff. also learned that it's kinda common to call your partner "gordo" (fat) as a joke. you constantly jokingly call oikawa that to curb his ever-inflating ego, but if you're uncomfortable with (using) that term (totally understandable!!), don't read.

“Tooru, please! I don’t wanna –”

“No – ugh �� just a few more seconds.”

Your pillows are drenched with your tears and sweat, and more than likely, there’s probably a puddle of your slick pooling and dripping through your bedsheets. You’re fighting to focus on anything – the calendar hanging next to the bedroom door that still displays July instead of December, the patterned stars and polka dots of Tooru’s covers, even the ceiling of his bedroom that’s dark aside from the faint light emitting from your computer –, but the buzzing of your vibrater, rubbing and jolting and spinning against your swollen clit, has already melted away the last remnants of your focus and conscious. It doesn’t help that it hasn’t been that long since the two of you started – only 20 minutes or so –, but you’re exhausted from all the traveling you’ve been doing recently, and really, by this point, Tooru knows how to make you feel very good.

“Please, please, please, Tooru - ha! – I can’t! Please, please, no more!”

You really should be rewarded for the amount of self-restraint you’re demonstrating. Despite the intensity and your sensitivity, you’re heeding your boyfriend’s instructions and not flailing or thrashing about. He knows you like being thrown over the edge over and over again, with your bud aching for more and less, your body aching for more and less, your mind wanting more and less. You’re also doing a fantastic job keeping your volume down. Not that there’s any need to, since Tooru’s parents are currently out for dinner right now, but it feels extremely wrong (and insanely erotic) having facetime sex in his childhood bedroom.

But if only you had just a bit more discipline, because, out of sheer habit, your wandering, hazy gaze begins to trace its way back to Tooru’s face on your laptop screen.

“Hold it, darling – shit, that’s good! A little longer!”

But you can’t hold on any longer because how can your body possibly resist your boyfriend and his dangerous, seductive allure? You know he’s not even trying. In fact, Tooru’s probably just as dazed as you are, all energy being channeled to trying to delay both of your highs for as long as possible. It’s just unfair how natural it is for him to ooze sex appeal – light brown bangs matted to his forehead and temples, drops of sweat tracing down his Adam’s apple and collarbones, toned abs and obliques flexing with each shuddering gasp he takes, his hands flexing around his – it’s over for you.

You turn your cheek, muffling your scream by burying your face into another one of Tooru’s pillows, and convulse. Your walls squeeze, tighten, and gape around nothing, and a rush of your warmth splatters onto your inner thighs and ass.

Your head’s a little fogged, but you can still make out the sounds of Tooru’s whimpering and moaning – fuck, he’s so sexy – as he can’t resist any longer. When you look back down at your screen, he’s hunched over, chest and back heaving and red with exertion.

“Fuck,” you both mutter at once.

After a few minutes, you come to and whine to get his attention. “We’re never doing this again.”

Tooru frowns as he tosses a tissue paper into a trash bin that’s off camera. “What? Why not?”

You squirm, the gravity of what the two of you have just done becoming more obvious with each passing second. “It’s so wrong! Your mom cleans your room all the time!”

He rolls his eyes, still displeased and unconvinced. To your unhappiness, he suggests, “Just wash the sheets yourself, then. Before she finds out.”

“Tooru! Never again!”

Your boyfriend’s already gotten up, though, mumbling something along the lines of how you’re both going to do it again in spite of your embarrassment as he goes to grab some water.

“I’m making you do all the laundry when you get back,” you huff. He responds with another comeback, but he’s too far away so his microphone only picks up garbled noises.

You stay seated, too tired and lazy to clean yourself and the mess you’ve made. It’s also because you like it when Tooru coos and worries over you, nagging at you to at least put on a damn shirt or take a quick shower so you don’t catch a cold. And while he does still do that, this time, his goodbye comes much sooner than expected.

“Sorry, cielo, but I have to get going. Practice starts early today.”

Right, there’s a 12-hour difference between Japan and Argentina. You nod in understanding and give him a wave with your sore hands, trying to look as energetic as possible. You sneak one last glance at him, admiring the slight glow to his face. “Don’t go around with that look on your face,” you half-warn, half-tease.

He smirks, tilting his face upwards and running a finger across his jawline. “What look? Oh, you must mean my boundless beauty.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes. “What are you talking about, gordo?”

You giggle as he squawks, computer speakers pitching with how loud he is. “I’m not fat!”

“Oh, you’re right,” you hum. “I almost forgot how flat your ass is. Don’t worry, I’ll see it in a week.”

You interrupt his passionate defenses and insults by blowing him an obnoxious kiss and ending the call, cutting it off so that he doesn’t have to. Even though the two of you’ve been long-distance for months now, only really having time to be in the same place during major holidays, Tooru always gets irritably sulky when he has to say the last goodbye.

As you get up, legs slightly wobbly and staggering, to peel off Tooru’s old bedding, you recall a brief text conversation you had with Iwaizumi. It took place three months into your relationship, when you and Tooru were experiencing your first send-off. Your work as a polyglot interpreter takes you traveling frequently, and you had met your now-boyfriend during one of your extended projects in Argentina. But all assignments must come to an end, and your had to head off to the United States for your next client.

The memory’s practically imprinted in your brain – Tooru endlessly sobbing into your shirt as he crushed you in a choking hold in the middle of the airport, you desperately trying to hold back your own tears, everyone else either eyeing at you two for blocking the way or gagging at your very public displays of affection. Later on, after less than a day since arriving to the States, Iwaizumi sent you screenshots of several missed calls all coming from a very distraught “Loserkawa.” He then also politely asked you to “smack your idiot of a boyfriend on my behalf” – which you still haven’t done yet, sorry – before blocking both of your numbers. 

Needless to say, it seems Tooru’s always been one for dramatics, even though, deep down, he’s sensitive and tender at heart. You wonder if he’ll cry when he gets home this time, since it’s been months since the two of you have last seen each other in person.

Yet somehow, with each passing day, as Tooru’s arrival itches dangerously closer and closer, he gets increasingly more difficult to reach. Your daily calls get cut so short that they barely reach half an hour, and the differences between when you send messages and when he replies extends from a couple of minutes to several hours.

You try not to panic. It’s not like these things haven’t happened before. In fact, your boyfriend has a bad habit of going off the grid when he’s not doing well in volleyball, still having not gotten fully rid of his self-degrading tendencies. You’re helping him work through it, but he can’t help but isolate and punish himself when he can’t reach his own perfectionistic expectations. But, regardless, he usually tells you when he’s experiencing a low, and he hasn’t said anything yet this time.

It’s now 48 hours before he’s supposed to arrive. You’re itching to text him, ask him if he’s begun packing, if he could bring back some Chocolinas and Rhodesias, if he’s as excited to see you as you are to see him, but he hasn’t even read your last message from yesterday morning about hypothetically tweezing his eyebrows, so you refrain. You ask his parents, but it seems they haven’t heard from him either in the past day and a half.

You rub at the creases in your forehead with a knuckle. You think you’ll make good on Iwaizumi’s request once Tooru lands in Japan.

Just as the threat crosses your mind, your phone buzzes with a notification, a text back from your boyfriend.

Guapo: please don’t, my eyebrows are perfectly fine.

Me: …

Me: is that really all you have to say.

Guapo: i’m sorry :(( i just got my phone repaired, so i was texting from my computer

Me: you could’ve told me

Guapo: but you’d make fun of me

Me: when do i not

Guapo: mean!!!! you’re so mean!!! >:(

Me: stop using emoticons like that, you oldhead

Guapo: i’m always young

Guapo: and cool

Guapo: and very hip

Me: i’m changing your name to gordo

Guapo: ew no

Guapo: wait what did you save me as before?

Me: don’t forget to pack

Me: and bring back snacks

You then tell him you’re heading off to sleep, feeling slightly more reassured.

It’s not a comfortable sleep, though. You have a nightmare. You dream of a rope tightly binding your arms to your body, incapacitating you and your ability to run away. You’re wriggling and struggling against the restraint on the floor, probably looking no different from an earthworm drying up on a sidewalk, desperately trying to escape from your unidentifiable captor. It’s also really, really hot for some reason.

You eventually wake out of frustration from your tireless pursuit for freedom, but even in reality, you’re sweaty and choking from disentangling yourself from… a pair of arms?

You sit up with a lurch, forceful enough to throw off their hold on you. You desperately look around, only to find yourself teetering on the edge of Tooru’s twin bed, with the very man himself squished uncomfortably between the wall and where your body was lying just a few seconds ago.

You gasp. “Tooru?”

You pat at his shoulder and shake him awake.

He grumbles, wanting a few more minutes of sleep, but you keep at it until he begins to blink awake. Once he’s conscious enough, a gentle smile breaks out on his face.

“Morning, cielo. Haven’t seen you like this in a long time.”

Tooru’s effortless seduction hits you squarely in the chest, the impact of his charm weighing heavily on your mind and body. His hair sticks and splays out in the perfect angles, his half-lidded gaze is the right balance between unintentional and smoldering, his lips still look so kissable despite being slightly chapped from his plane ride, and his hands are thick with veins and – you need him so badly.

He’s saying something – “How about we get some more sleep?” –, but you interrupt any and all of his accompanying thoughts by smacking your lips over his. He grunts, not having had the opportunity to take a breath beforehand, but you grab him by the collar of his sleep shirt and hold him in place.

When you do pull apart, lips plump and swollen, several prolonged seconds later, he captures your attention with an audacious laugh.

“Thought you didn’t want to do it here anymore.”

You growl, discarding your common sense to the wind. “We’ll just be quiet.”

Tooru beams at you with a cheeky smile before pulling you down onto his chest for a tight embrace, burying his face into the side of your neck.

He then lets you go so that he can stare up at you with dreamy eyes, and with a gentle voice, a tone so starkly in contrast to the heated, messy kiss the two of you just shared, whispers, “I missed you.”

You unravel at his words. You still yourself and take in the smell of his shampoo, the feel of his warm skin against yours, and the sheer fact that he is in the same room as you, breathing the same air as you.

“I missed you, too, amor.”

winter event masterlist

[n6viia]

Me pongo loca -T. Oikawa

Their relationship seemed perfect to others. But behind closed doors, it was a toxic relationship. It's been years since they broke up, but now he's reached out to her again.

m.list

status: ongoing

tags: oikawa x reader, oikawa x f!reader, haikyuu smau, hq smau, ex’s to lovers

warnings: language,death jokes, mention of alcohol and drugs, probably ooc

note: this smau is inspired by orquideas an album by Kali uchis, but mostly focused on the song —me pongo loca — I literally drag the fact oikawa speaks spanish so in this smau im making him half Argentinian instead of him going to Argentina :) and yk I had to Include my fav album

reply to this or send a dm to be added to the taglist :)

Introductions: femininomenon! | milf lovers

part 1: talk ✎

part 2: matured ✎

part 3: haunted

part 4: waste of time ✎

part 5: spy

part 6: reunion

part 7: shade ✎

part 8: fucked up ✎

part 9: his loss

part 10: soon..