#dark oikawa tooru

[envy-of-the-apple]

Hello! I love your writing, especially that mad dog Drabble! Could you maybe do something similar for Oikawa? Noncon if you’re comfortable with that too. Thank you so much!

I wrote this awhile ago and then I never got around to publishing it and now I refuse to reread it because i cringe at my old writing but i remember spending a shit ton of time on this so here's my three year old trash fic. enjoy.

(Warnings: dark content, non-con touching, rape, non-con/sexual harassment, verbal degradation, forced orgasms, public-sex, overstimulation) 

18+ content 

 Tutoring Sessions 

You knew Spanish. 

Not an expert by any means, but you could probably get by if you were stranded in a Spanish-speaking country. You were good at it. Decent. 

You just weren’t the teaching type. You could barely learn, let alone, pass your skills on to someone else. Teaching required patience and diligence. That wasn’t you. 

But, really, what could you say when the Captain of the volleyball team himself asked you to tutor him? He looked so desperate too, looking down at you with pleading eyes. He asked for an hour-no-just thirty minutes. All you had to do was correct his grammar, jot a few vocabulary words for him, and maybe teach him extra conjugations. 

Looking back, you should have declined. You should have made any bullshit excuse you could think of. You should have laughed nervously, apologized- have done anything to get out of his attention. 

You shouldn’t have let him coax you into the fourth floor of the library, trapping you with his tall body in an isolated booth. 

At least then his hand wouldn’t be currently rubbing your thigh.

His movements were slow, casual, as his fingers made lazy circles up and down your leg. You couldn’t tell if it was intentional if he was touching you on purpose or mindlessly moving his hands. His face betrayed nothing, solely staring forward at the sheets of paper. 

“So, I just replace the ‘ar’ with ‘aron’?” He asked, his hand slowly moving higher and higher, “Why can’t I use ‘aban’?” 

You bit your lip, “Because it has a definite ending. The-the sentence is ‘they spoke with me yesterday’. The action ended yesterday, that’s-that’s why we use the preterit form.” 

Your breath hitched when his hand trailed underneath your skirt, skimming across your panties. Your hand balled into a shaking fist. 

You wanted to tell him to move, you wanted to shove his hand off you, but you weren’t confrontational. Instead, you elected to push down the feeling of unease in your chest, trying your best to ignore his ministrations, praying that he’d drop his hand by himself.

He didn’t.

“Right, you use preterit form for a definite ending,” He’s murmuring now, a sultry rumble that sends shivers down your spine, “I keep forgetting that." His laugh twinkles through the air. It's a jarring contrast to his warm hands.

“So ‘Hablaron me ayer’?” 

He took that moment to slide past your panties, lightly rocking on your heat. You sucked in a short breath, gritting your teeth. You couldn’t pretend like he didn’t know what he was doing, not when his fingers were sinking deeper and deeper-

A finger tapped on your inner thigh. Play along.

“It’s-it’s ‘me habl-ah-hablaron ayer’. The object comes first-” You flinched when his pointer finger stroked over your hot skin, “And-and then the subject.” 

You wished he’d stop making you talk. You wished you could just push him off you. You wished so many things, things Oikawa wouldn’t grant you. 

“Okay,” He’s grinning now, a little less put together. His breathing is a little ragged, hitching whenever you uncomfortably shift. Though he’s still resolutely staring at the pages before him, his eyes are shining. Eager, “-makes sense,” 

You just realized how empty the library is. 

You can feel his calloused fingers crawling under you, searching for something. His middle finger curls a little, softly brushing over your sensitive clit. 

You stumble forward. He says something, but you’re not listening. Not when his fingers are hovering over your hot button, delving down to push and prod. 

Your reached up to cover your mouth, instantly silencing any noises you knew would come spilling out. He laughs at that, finally finally breaking the act of playing innocent. 

Or maybe it wasn’t such a good thing. He’s looking at you now, a knowing smirk on his pretty face. 

Repulsion burns through you. It’s quickly replaced by humiliation as a wet squelch erupts from the place he’s touching you, making you lurch. 

“I wasn’t expecting that,” He hums in satisfaction, “You already dripping? You must really want this, huh?” 

He stares at you, daring you to reply, knowing fully well you won’t. No, you wouldn’t say anything, you wouldn’t do anything either. You would just sit there and take it. 

Exactly what he wants. 

He’s moving at a rhythm now, rubbing your clit with his thumb as his fingers inch down your folds. Your nails are digging into your trembling palm, but you don’t tell him to stop. You don’t say a word. No, that would be acknowledging what he’s doing. It would make it real-

your thoughts vanish as a slender finger sinks into your pussy. Your sigh is muffled by your clammy hand, digging further into your mouth as he starts fucking you in earnest. He’s going too fast; your mind is spinning. You can’t keep up with the waves of pleasure coming in and out and in and out and in again. 

Your hand slips and the moan that escapes your mouth surprise you. It was loud and so dirty, you couldn’t believe it was your voice-it was you who made that noise. 

His finger curls, bending in your tight walls and you feel like wailing. Oikawa strokes against a spot deep inside you that has you seeing stars. 

You unconsciously lean against him. Oikawa draws you in closer, forcing you to rest against his shoulder as a second finger sinks into your heat. You whine as it pushes through your sopping walls, completely stretching you out. 

You think you hear him snarl a quiet fuck but you’re not paying attention. Your head is pounding, matching the brutal thrusts of his fingers. It’s devouring you it’s too much and you want to stop, you want to breathe. Oikawa isn’t keen on helping, not when he’s rubbing fast circles on your clit, stretching his fingers inside you when he feels you’re not making enough noise. He wants something from you. 

And you’re forced to give it to him. 

There’s a hitch in your breath, the tiniest pause, before you clench around his fingers with a muffled scream. He hushes you, allowing you to bury your face into his shoulder as he keeps fucking your pussy until you collapse in his chest. 

You’re panting when he finally removes his fingers, wiping the slick haphazardly on your inner thigh. You shift uncomfortably when he pulls away, feeling your hole clench again. The orgasm fades away and all you’re left with is the shock of what you’ve done and utter humiliation. 

He lifts your chin, forcing you to look at him. His brown eyes were dark, coated in lust. He’s sneering at you. 

The kiss surprises you. You weren’t expecting his lips to be soft as he gently melts into yours. It’s so tender, a stark contrast to what he was like before. Maybe it was because you didn’t really put up a fight, your lips falling open when he stroked his thumb on your sensitive skin. 

It’s still intense and when he pulls away, you take your first real breath. 

“See?” He hums, a hand settling on yours, “That wasn’t so bad, right?” 

“Oikawa-” 

He’s pulling you out of your seat before you can finish your sentence, dragging you away from the abandoned table filled with unused highlighters. Your legs are still weak, you stumble around a little. Oikawa doesn’t mind, towing you like he’s carrying nothing but air. 

He slips into an empty storage closet, with you reluctantly trailing behind him. The door closes behind you with a dull thud, and you’re forced to stand with him in the darkness. 

When the light comes back on, he’s towering above you. His chest presses against yours, pinning you against the wall. His smile is manic, filled with a hunger that you know won’t be satisfied with just one taste. 

No, he wants to devour you whole. 

It’s the realization, that he will ruin you, that make your eyes sting. Hot tears creep down your cheeks as your lips waver. 

He coos at that, “Don’t cry, baby. You’ll be okay. I took care of you, right? I made you feel so good?” He shuffles closer and you can feel something hard and stiff press against your thigh. 

“Now you gotta’ do the same for me. It’s a fair trade, right?” 

He’s kissing you again. It’s rough, this time, as he bites on your bottom lip, hard enough to tear skin. Your yelp is muffled as he shoves his tongue into your drooling mouth. You taste the smallest hint of something metallic. 

His lips move down, covering your jaw with soft butterfly kisses that made your head spin. When they find your neck, he clamps down on your soft flesh, licking at biting at everything he could taste. Your breath hitches, a sound that’s in between a gasp and a moan. The sensation of his teeth against your neck causes you to lean your head against the wall, reluctantly giving him room. He purrs at that.

“Good girl.”

His hands are fiddling with your buttons. You barely have time to speak before he impatiently rips your shirt, sending the round objects scattering.

A half-hearted apology is mumbled into your skin. His fingers skitter over your bra, you cry out when his cold hands push the material up to feel your tits.

It’s still not enough. His body is feverish, you feel so hot against him, so pliant, so beautiful. You’re crying, whimpering, softly whispering for him to stop but do you even know how desperate you sound? Your voice sounds so needy, it’s hard to be sated from just touching.

Oikawa yanks down your skirt, letting them pool at your ankles. Your thighs are still glistening from his previous ministrations and your panties are wet, still soaked.

He feels pure euphoria watching them slide down your legs, landing on the ground next to the other piles of clothing.

You’re standing before him, barely clothed, shivering. He gives you a chaste kiss on the cheek, mumbling a soft ‘be good for me, okay’, before he reaches down to his pants.

He doesn’t pull it down all the way, just enough to reach inside and pull out his throbbing cock. It’s already an angry red, a single drop of precum leaking at the tip.

He gives it a few cursory pumps, before he stills.

“I really wanted to see you cum, bet you looked so pretty. Do you mind doing that again, just for me pretty please?”

He grinned when you didn’t reply. You can’t understand how someone so beautiful could hide so much cruelty. 

“No? That’s okay, I’ll just make you. Again.”

In one single movement, he hikes your leg against his hip and thrusts his cock inside you.

You wail as he pushes himself inside, already starting to set a rough pace. It hurts, much bigger than two fingers. Whatever he did before clearly didn’t help make it feel any less painful. You give a choked scream, hot tears clouding your vision.

He’s not quiet either, leaning his forehead against the wall behind you, moaning shamelessly. He’s saying your name like a prayer, repeating it over and over again until it sounds like that’s the only thing he can say.

“You have to relax, baby-fuck you’re so tight.” Oikawa hisses, hiking your leg higher to fuck you deeper.

The pain fades. You wish it stayed, keeping you sober while he pushes you against the wall, greedily palming your tits, sucking on your neck.

But it disappears and a loud moan leaves your lips, too breathy to be made from anything but pleasure.

You instinctively cover your mouth, trying to muffle the sounds your traitorous body is making.

“Nope, not this time,” He cheerily says, ripping your hand away, “I wanna hear you scream.” 

He angles his hips, his cock sinking into that spot and you do scream.

The pleasure that waves up and down your body blinds you. Your body isn’t listening to you, anymore. Your cunt keeps sucking him back in with each thrust. You can feel beads of precum roll down your thigh. Oikawa’s head is resting on your shoulder now. His weight makes your shaky legs buckle, digging your back further into the hard concrete.

He kisses your hand, encouraging you to drape it on his shoulder. It limply falls beside his neck, barely brushing against his hair.

You shift your hips and his cock stutters almost stopping his rhythm before Oikawa’s cooing something dirty into your ear, reaching down to rub your clit until you’re crying out again.

It’s addicting, he realizes, having your cunt flutter around him like this, leaking out his precum. It’s a feeling that makes him piston himself into you over and over again, relishing in the way your pussy tries to suck him in, like you were begging for more.

“O-oikawa,” You finally gasp when you finally regain the ability to speak, “Slow down please please slow-slow down.”

His laugh is breathy, “You want me to slow down, angel? What, are you close again?”

You don’t respond, but it’s enough to make him go faster, ignoring your pleas in search of your gradually rising voice.

He hisses when his knee hits the wall, grimacing.

“-Wanted to do this at a bed, you know,” He grunted, “Somewhere soft. But-but I didn’t wanna-hah-scare you, you’re so anxious it was so-fuck- hard choosing a place-place you’d actually show up in.” 

He rubs your clit, feeling your walls grow tighter and tighter. He pulls back to look at you, eyes shut, your lip caught between your teeth, your face filled with lustful pleasure.

“Cum for me, baby. Show me how perfect you are.”

You follow his orders, your orgasm making you cry in ecstasy. It makes you go limp and you almost sink to the floor before Oikawa catches you, keeping you upright as he chases his own end.

He doesn’t stop, not even when you beg him to slow down that it’s too much. No, he just hushes you again, stumbling over a tensed ‘Just a little more’, before he’s going faster and faster until you feel something warm, wet, and sobering fill your cunt. 

He’s slows down then, his eyes shut in bliss as he rocks his hips forward, milking as much as he could. When he finally pulls out, he does it with a hiss, making you flinch as his skin hits your sensitive clit. 

He doesn’t catch you this time, letting you drop to the floor. You tumble to the ground, your hands barely catching your fall. The tile is so cool against your sensitive skin, it almost makes you forget the milky liquid spread on your legs, the finger-print shaped bruises on your thigh. 

You don’t think you have anymore tears left, but they still fall, running down your cheeks. 

He’s instantly over you, brushing a hand down your face. 

“Oh, don’t cry, baby, you did such a good job,” Oikawa cooed, wiping your tears away. 

He’s not comforting you. His smile is too satisfied to make you think he had any semblance of pity. You briefly wonder what he’s seeing. You, exhaustedly crumpled against the wall, your legs curled, cum seeping out, your neck and chest littered with teeth marks. No wonder he looks so pleased.  

He pets your hair, shifting it back in place and it’s so domestic-so loving that it makes you sick. 

Oikawa grins, showing teeth. “How about next time we study at my place.”

[plagalkey]

oikawa's moving castle AU

(from HQ flash exchange)

[kolyasz]

[moechies]

scummy oikawa thirst 🍧

scummy boyfriend oikawa</3 when he sees you talking to your ex out in public, and realizes that you never told him about it while you were back at home, he decides to teach u a lesson !!

he drags you to his home, where he locks you into his room and makes you listen and watch him fuck into another woman.

you’re balled up in a corner crying, and yelling out apologies through your tears, but hes completely ignoring you. you’re forced to listen to the girl moaning out your boyfriends name, while he’s telling the girl, ‘fuck, feel ‘smuch better than her,’ or ‘you wouldn’t betray me like her right?’ and even ‘m gonna cum in you..’ leaving your heart aching.

after she leaves his room, chuckling at your humiliating state, oikawa pulls you up onto his bed and whispers to you about how he forgives you, and that you’re so perfect. he pets your head and kisses your forehead, telling you how he never meant what he said to the other girl, and that you’ll be the only one for him forever; he just needed to teach you a lesson!

[hanmaitani]

Jealousy

PAIRING - Bodyguard!Matsukawa x Reckless!Reader, Oikawa x Reader WC - 2.4K GENRE - smu, angst CW - Jealousy makes you do stupid shit. Consensual recording of sex. Unprotected sex. Creampie.

PREV PART | MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

You panted heavily. Head thrown back as his hands guided your hips back and forth along his own. “Oh fuck, just like that.” He mumbled against the bare of your chest, tongue licking up against the salty skin of your breast before sucking softly on it, careful not to make a mark.

Your hands twisted into his brown curls and tugged, whining when his dick thrust against your insides and tapped against a sensitive spot. You tried not to feel anything other than the pleasure curling inside of you now.

You knew. There was no way that you couldn’t know. Keiko and Matsukawa always being unavailable at the same times. It was a subtle type of jealousy that crawled its way around your heart. One that you didn’t realize was there. One you couldn’t name. One that you wanted to leave.

You tried to handle it the only way you knew how. Revenge. Specifically, a revenge fuck. He was sleeping with one of your friends so maybe you’d repay the favor.

“Come onnnn.” You whined and begged, leaning on the center console of the SUV so your head poked between the empty passenger seat and where Hanamki sat in the driver’s seat.

“No.” Hanamaki was trying not to laugh, as your dramatic self flopped on the console, trying to give him puppy dog begging eyes. “I’m not going to fuck you.” You’d been trying for about ten minutes now, and failing for about ten minutes.

You huffed for a second before you smiled sickly sweet up at him, “I’ll let you cum in me?”

He couldn’t help the laugh he barked out then. Hanamaki sighed and pushed his shades onto the top of his head, subsequently pushing his strawberry tinted blond hair back as he turned to face you completely. “Kid,” he started, a small smile still playing on his lips as he ruffled your hair, “I know that you know this is just those self-destructive tendencies you’ve got.” He sighs again and it’s like you can feel his pity rocket straight into your heart. “I’m not gonna fuck you just because you and Mattsun are playing some game of who’s being more pussy about your feelings.”

You blink up at him in shock for a moment, trying to register what he’d said. “Wait.” You shake your head. “No, I don’t have feelings for Mattsun and he doesn’t have feelings for me, it isn’t like that.” But you’re speaking fast and it’s like you’re failing at convincing even yourself so you steer the other direction again. “This isn’t about feelings, it’s like…. A dry spell?”

“Kid, you know I’m in love with your brother, right?”

You roll your eyes at the unsurprising information, as though you’d not been watching the way Hanamaki looked at your older brother for years. “Yeah and? You like girls too, right?” It was rhetorical but he opened his mouth to respond until you kept talking. “You can’t confess, I can’t confess, so let’s just-”

“Thought there wasn’t anything to confess?” He looks at you like he’s just caught you in a trap and you freeze. He doesn’t give you the chance to redefend your point, however. “Listen, I love you. I have seen you at your worst, I’ve been there through it all. This,” he gestures to the state you’re in right now generally, “isn’t it girl. You’re like my younger sister. Woman up.” He ends it with a soft flick to your forehead as a pout grows on your lips. He flips his shades back over his eyes, his soft hair easily falling back down to cover his forehead as he turned back to the road. “Which club tonight?”

You knew that he was right. Hanamaki was never the right option. You’d decided you needed a different approach. That’s what brought you in front of a video camera again. You could see the image of yourself and your partner on the computer screen on his desk.

You couldn’t see your face, the camera cut off at just under your chin. It was commonplace to never show your face on camera, your father’s work putting you in the public eye too often for comfort if you were to be publicly found out. Your partner however, had no such qualms. His face was only not shown at the moment because it was pressed between your breasts, licking strips up your skin as he pulled your hips down onto him repeatedly.

Your thighs shook as they spread across his hips, having a harder time keeping your body up as he continued to fuck up into you. Your breath shook, you wanted to cum but you were so focused on trying to stay up, to keep your face out of sight that you couldn’t. You whined in protest and the request came tumbling out. “Oikawa, can’t st-ah. Can’t stay up.”

Oikawa’s head came up from between your breasts and took in the look on your face, a mix of pleasure and frustration. He chuckled a bit but nodded. He moved you easily, lifting you from his lap, keeping your face out of the frame as he slipped out from under you. “Turn that way.” He nodded his head towards the wall opposite the camera and you took the direction, turning your head and letting your hair shield your face as he moved behind you.

Your chest was heaving still, your breasts bobbing slightly as he held you up, your body tired from how long the two of you had been at it. It was the first time you’d met with him, he’d been just a follower, a number and user on your screen until recently. He had a huge following and you’d needed a boost to your account anyways. When he’d asked to collab you’d had the perfect idea.

He chuckled as he pressed your upper body into the bed, hiding your face again before pulling your hips up for him. You whined as he did this, not being coherent enough to move yourself and kind of loving the way he just moved your body how he wanted. Oikawa’s hand reached out for the camera, winking at it before directing it down towards his view of you.

“Dick just so good she can’t keep upright anymore.” You rolled your eyes at the cockiness in his tone but didn’t respond. The camera picked up the way your tangled hair spread around where you buried your face in the pillow, exposing the delicate skin of your neck. He trailed his finger, and the camera from there down your spine and how it curved for him. Down until he got to your ass, grabbing a handful and pulling it from the other. You whined at how you could feel your lower lips part from the grip, cool air brushing your wet core. The camera caught it too.

“Oikawaaa.” You whined his name as you reached back, your fingers finding his cock and trying to drag it back to your entrance. The camera caught the way your perfectly manicured nails guided his tip to your wetness and the way his cockhead spread your cunt open before he pulled back out, your wetness shiny on the rubber covering his cock. “Take it off.” It was almost too quiet, but he and the camera heard you perfectly. Especially when your fingers tugged slightly at the bit of space left at the top of the condom when he pulled back.

“Look at what a freak she is.” He was talking to the camera, not to you. “Want me to fuck you raw?” You whined in response, a show for the camera, you really couldn’t care. He was already pulling the condom off and letting it drop next to your knee before pressing his cock back to your entrance.

There was a slick squelch from your cunt as he bottomed out in one motion he groaned lowly and kept the camera trained on how your body swallowed his cock thrust after thrust. This was easier for you to do. Nothing you had to focus on except for pressing your fingers to your clit and chasing your own orgasm. It was easy then, feeling the coils twisting and tightening, close to snapping as his hips got quicker.

Your orgasm was underwhelming but was relieving after having unconsciously holding it off. Oikawa followed soon after, hips stuttering and then halting, tip still inside as he came inside of you. His cum leaked out around his cock, dripping down your thighs as he pointed the camera at it. He zoomed in on the way it pooled next to your knee, tauntingly flowing onto the discarded condom before he trained the camera back up to where it continued to leak out of you.

Matsukawa tossed his phone down on the couch in irritation as he stood over your form in your shared living room. “You fucked Oikawa? Are you fucking kidding me!?” You actually weren’t aware of how close he and Oikawa had been until after you’d posted the video. Oikawa had mentioned something about how ‘Mattsun will never believe this.’ It had made you freeze.

You rolled your eyes and feigned nonchalance, pretending like it didn’t make you a little bit proud that Matsukawa was upset about the situation. “It’s just good business, Mattsun.” A smirk formed around his name as you stared up at him, you could see his fists clench out of the corner of your eye. “Tooru’s got a great following.” You let the name slide off your tongue, Oikawa’s first name. It had Matsukawa’s jaw clenching, the vein on his neck seeming to pop.

“That’s not just business.” He growled in irritation. “You let him cum in you.” So he had watched the whole thing. You had to shove down your temptation to laugh at him.

“But Mattsuunnnn.” You drew out the last consonant in a bit of a whine, missing the way his breath hitched at the sound of his name falling from your lips like that. “Look how popular the video is. It’s gonna make soooo much money.” You put on your sweetest smile. You weren’t wrong and Matsukawa knew it. The video had done better in one night than most did in their first week up. “People like to see cum.” You giggled but gasped when he grabbed your arm and started to drag you towards the bathroom. “Hey! What are you doing!”

He rolled his eyes and placed you in a sitting position on top of the toilet seat cover. “Sit there.” You opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off again. “Quietly.” You rolled your eyes but complied, intrigued as you watched him riffle through the cabinets before taking out a bag you recognized from the back of the space. “Open.” He instructed as he broke one of the Plan B pills out of their packaging. You laughed at him but stuck your tongue out with a dramatic ‘ahhh’ sound and let him toss the pill into your mouth before giving you a glass of tap.

When you were done swallowing it you laughed and put your arms on the counter, leaning forward to watch as he turned to the medicine cabinet looking for his next goal. “Really? I would have done that after breakfast, you know.”

“No one wants a mini Oikawa running around. Have you even taken your birth control yet, today?” He dropped the foil packet on the counter when he found it and you barked another laugh.

“I’m not a baby, you don’t have to remind me.”

“Yeah? Well today’s is still in that packaging so if I don’t you’ll end up having one.” He snapped and you scoffed as you grabbed at the packet of pills.

“I’m not gonna get pregnant, Mattsun.” You assure as you pop the tiny pill in your mouth and take another swig of the tap water.

“Not if I can help it you won’t.” He says it like he’s protecting you. He pretends that’s the reason too. Because protecting you is his job. He won’t admit that some part inside of him just absolutely hates the idea of Oikawa possibly being able to lay a claim on you like that.

“So.” You kick your feet in the air over the side of the couch. You’re laying on it sideways so that you can still see Matsukawa in the kitchen making dinner for the two of you. “If I can’t see Oikawa again,” he had strictly forbade it after a long and heated discussion between the two of you earlier which led to him insulting Oikawa and telling you that you’d sleep with him again ‘over his dead body,’ “is there any friends you could hook me up with?”

Matsukawa doesn’t even bother looking over his shoulder to entertain you. His voice is monotone as he responds. “I don’t have friends.”

You snort lightly. “Fine, I’ll just ask Makki.”

“Makki doesn’t have friends either.” Matsukawa shot back his answer so quickly that you had to almost find it kind of impressive.

“You know, Tooru mentioned one guy that y’all used to hang around with a lot… what was his name?” You pretended to think for a second, tapping your chin and humming. “Wasn’t it Iw-”

“No.” Matsukawa answered quickly, cutting off the line of conversation before you could even fully finish saying his name.“Fine.” You groaned as you let your head flop back on the couch. “You know, I could set you up with one of my friends. I’ve got a ton that would like you.” You miss the way that the muscles in his back clench at the offer, a stiffness flooding his body as he glances at the way you’ve seemed to melt back into the couch, staring at the ceiling now. Your mind is spinning about who you would let have him. Something from the back of it screams ‘no one!’ You ignore that. The biggest thought in your brain is, instead… anyone other than someone who was so close to being you, but not you. Anyone but Keiko.

a/n oikawa be being a lil shit without even knowing it

TAGLIST - OPEN

@boosyboo9206 @faumpje @miyamizuna

@all-in-the-fandoms @pearl-blue-musings @qichun

[maybe-a-dinosaur]

oikawa tooru jorts hater.

he wants to like them but he just Can’t his enemies (takahiro) say it’s bc he looks dumb in them tooru thinks he needs to shut the fuck up. he wears other shorts other colors they don’t make him look dumb btw he just thinks that denim should stay in its lane and be jeans is that too much to ask. matsukawa big ass baggy jorts hanamaki shorter slimmer fitting cutoffs iwaizumi (though infrequent) to the knee well worn nearing tattered jorts oikawa mid thigh linen shorts. he’s not even mad about not matching or whatever actually he couldn’t care less they look dumb he’s pissed off at the concept of jorts they’re stupid!!!! he can’t rationalize it he just says ���i don’t respect anyone wearing jorts” and he lives by that. they’re in style everyone’s wearing them Whatever he’s not and that’s what matters. oikawa tooru anti-jort and he will die on that hill.

[hayakawalove]

Freak Like Me

Summary: You trust Toru with your life. You tell him about one of your fantasy's, and the two of you try it out with stellar results.

A/N: Kinktober going strong! I've only written this kink once before, but I had fun with it. I hope you guys are having a wonderful month. If dark content isn't your thing, that's totally fine! I have lots of other fics that are much more tame. Kinktober was meant for me to test the waters with things I haven't written before. I'm liking it so far, so hopefully you all do too! Once you finish reading, I would love to know how you are feeling!

CW: Smut, Knifeplay, Consensual Knifeplay, Dark Content, Fear Play, Vaginal Fingering, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Humiliation, Post Time Skip, Female Reader, AFAB Reader W/C: 1,159

Credit to cafekitsune for the banner

Toru Oikawa is not a scary man. Not by any means. He has kind eyes and a soft smile. Scary is the last word you would use to describe him. However, you find yourself coming up empty handed when looking for a different adjective as he enters the room wielding a blade. Scared is exactly the feeling rushing through your veins right now. 

“Sweetheart, we don’t have to try this.” He notices the fear in your eyes. 

His comment brings you back to reality. You did want to try it. It had been on your mind for a long time, and tonight was the night you were finally going to make the dream come true. 

“No! I want to.” You say, laying flat on your back. 

Toru walks further into the room, stopping short in front of the bed. It creaks with his movement as he crawls on top, his large frame easily overshadowing yours. The knife is pointed away from you as a safety precaution, yet part of you wishes it wasn’t.

“Okay,” he places a gentle kiss on the side of your throat. “Say the safe word if you change your mind.” 

Goosebumps crawl up your skin from his lips and from the low tone of his voice. You try to keep your body as still as possible as Toru lowers the knife, letting the dull side scrape down your flesh. The sensation is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. It doesn’t hurt, but alarm bells are going off in your head nonetheless. Adrenaline shoots throughout your body as he slowly drags the knife down your stomach. 

You don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until he says something. 

Toru stops in his tracks, and reaches up with his other hand. He grabs your chin and tilts it up, making you look into his eyes. 

“You have to remember to breathe for me baby, yeah?” 

You let out a whimper and nod, slowly releasing the pent up air from your lungs. An easy smile spreads across Toru’s face before he looks back down once more to resume. 

“Good girl,” he croons. 

Toru presses the blade down a little harder, still using the dull side, as he brings it across your stomach down your soft thighs. You can feel your pussy begin to leak at the lingering sense of danger. Toru’s eyes keep flicking up towards your face to watch for any sign of apprehension, but he doesn’t find any. 

He moves the blade once more, and in doing so the tip briefly pokes into your skin. You let out a moan, and refrain from arching your back. He almost looks just as excited as you do. 

“Toru, more-“ you sob.

Toru breathes heavily and nods, tightening his grip on the handle. 

“Okay, but you have to stay still.” He orders. 

The firmness of his voice sends a shiver throughout your body. You silently agree and wait for him to continue. His eyes are laser focused as he looks down at your thighs. Toru flips the knife around, using the sharp edge to drag down your skin. He doesn’t press hard enough to cause any damage, if anything it feels like a soft tickle, but the threat of it is enough. Your eyes roll in the back of your head, and you let out a shaky moan. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so horny in your life. 

In contrast, Toru knows he’s never been so horny before. The drool seeping from the side of your lips and your fingers digging into the sheets is a sight he won’t soon forget. It’s taking all of his willpower not to toss the knife away so he can fuck you. 

Patience, he knows this. 

“Touch me, please, please,” you’re gasping as he trails the blade up your tender flesh. 

Any wrong move could be detrimental, but Toru’s been careful and measured his entire life. 

“You can’t wait, sweetheart? We just got started.” He teases, putting on a front as if his cock isn’t so hard it’s threatening to rip through his pants. 

“No-“ you whimper. 

Toru holds the knife steady as he peers between your legs. Strings of your juices decorate your puffy cunt, the sight ripping all coherent thought from his head. 

“Fuck,” he murmurs underneath his breath. “Okay, alright,” 

He sets the knife down to maneuver your body against his. The two of you fit together like perfect puzzle pieces, your back slotting nicely into his chest. Toru keeps your legs spread while he dips his hand down, collecting your wetness to plunge his fingers inside you. 

He revels in the moan you let out. His fingers start off slow, two of them carefully stretching you out as he fucks them into you. With each press of his hand, his palm grazes your sensitive clit, making you groan. 

“Bring it back, bring the knife-“ 

Toru lets out a chuckle, keeping his gaze focused on your pussy. He continues to finger fuck you as his other hand reaches for the knife, once again bringing it up to your skin. 

“So needy, baby.” He mumbles, dragging the blade up your side. “It’s nasty.” 

Even though it’s an insult, it doesn’t sound like it. The way the syllables curl in the air has your pussy clenching around his fingers. 

Toru speeds his hand up, easily locating the sensitive tissue inside you which he abuses. His cock is stiff behind your back as he fingers you, your clit getting stimulated constantly. You’re incoherent, but trying your hardest to remain still, the threat of injury still looming in the air. 

“Toru, please, fuck,” you groan. 

He brings the knife up to your neck, the dull side biting into your throat. It doesn’t register to you that there’s no danger involved, that Toru would never put you in serious harms way, your brain thinks it’s the sharp end kissing your skin. 

Toru grinds his palm against your clit, feeling as you inch closer to release. He wonders if you notice how hard he is behind you, how it’s taking all of his concentration to guide you through first. 

“You gonna cum for me?” He asks. 

“Yes! Yes!” Your legs tremble as he fucks into you faster. 

Toru presses the knife down slightly harder against your neck, and that’s all it takes to send you over the edge. You cum with a loud moan, your pussy gripping onto Toru’s fingers so tight that even he sees white. He fucks you through it, only tossing the knife aside when he feels you relax in his hold. He presses a kiss to the side of your head before pulling his fingers away, admiring the strings of cum decorating them. 

“Damn, you really are freaky.” He taunts. 

You pout in his hold, playfully smacking his leg. 

“Says you! Your dick feels like cement!” 

“Oh uh…right.” He plays off, chuckling. 

Maybe he was just as freaky as you.

If you want to be tagged in my future works, just let me know. Please tell me what you want to be tagged in.

[yandere-romanticaa]

The walk back home from school usually did not take you very long especially if you had the luxury of blasting loud music through your headphones. It was ultimately something small but it made you happy, calm even if the day was rough on you. The tunes would blare in your ears as you'd walk home without a single care in the world.

That was something that truly worried Toru Oikawa.

You actively decided to put yourself in the line of fire by closing yourself off from the world like this. Anyone could jump you, anyone.

Oikawa himself could hurt you if he really wanted to as well. The only difference was that he didn't want to. There's a certain power in that choice and it made it crystal clear to him that whatever you were up to was just silly and stupid. In school you were not like him, well liked and popular. Perhaps a wallflower was a decent description. No one paid much attention to you either, which gave him a lot of advantages he didn't even know he'd want or ask for. Due to his reputation it was always odd to see the smiling and cheerful Oikawa striking a conversation with you. He made sure to never be rude and always wanted to include you in any activity he possibly could. There was a period of time when he was actively campaigning for you to become the volleyball team manager and some of his guys liked the idea too. Iwaizumi, the sharp little cookie that he is, naturally, found this to be suspicious from the very start - Oikawa is not the kind of guy who does anything without rhyme or reason. He said nothing for a week or two but simply decided to watch his friend and monitor his actions.

It became obvious to him that Oikawa was head over heels for you. The feelings were not reciprocated, unfortunately.

Oikawa knew this. It stung. Hard.

He felt a twinge of pity for his friend. As annoying and insufferable as he was Iwaizumi Hajime was fully aware of just how overly ambitious and intelligent Oikawa was. He wouldn't say it out loud even if you held him at gunpoint but he wanted to help the poor bastard out.

Iwaizumi was easier to approach simply because he just wasn't intense as Oikawa. He had charm and charisma in spades but that could be incredibly intimidating sometimes, especially to outsiders. He took his time with you and slowly but surely eased you into the groove of the team.

Oikawa did everything he could to hide his seething jealousy but he wasn't doing a particularly good job. Iwaizumi simply knew him too well to fall for any of his tricks.

The same couldn't be said for you.

The setter is a quick learner and he adapted to you in lightning fast speed. He had his overwhelming moments too but they were all chalked up to Oikawa just being, well, Oikawa. He's just that kind of guy, there really wasn't anything that could change him.

You started to come to their practices and if you were feeling generous, you'd bring some refreshments and snacks along too.

God, did the team start loving you because of that.

Oikawa stood near the treeline, the shadows carefully concealing him as he quietly sucked on the red lolipop you gave him earlier. He toyed with the plastic wrapper which was still kept in his pocket as he watched you go along your merry way, completely oblivious to him tailing you. He was grateful to his best friend for helping him out. Oikawa was embarrassed at himself for just how much be liked you, just how much power you had over him. A few months ago whenever he would approach you he was always met with either a polite greeting or he was just flat out ignored because he said something that set you off or his fans got in the way.

Things were improving with you. Bit by bit, piece by piece. In Oikawa's dictionary the words "giving up" simply do not exist.

He has you in his grasp, you are so close to him that he could almost taste it, feel it. His body buzzed with adrenaline, like a magnet searching for his other half. You were there, you were right there, unassuming and vulnerable, all his for the taking.

However, charm and charisma weren't the only things he had in spades. Patience was one of his virtues as well.

[kenjicopy]

pedido pessoal entregue

título: Foi no Brasil

@biribinhaas n importa quantas vezes eu tente fazer uma dark, nunk vai sair uma dark kkkkk

[threadmonster]

I was hardcore offline while Haikyuu was in it's final arc and man, I hope the fandom properly appreciated that Oikawa's insecurities in highschool were so fucking bad he almost quit playing. That's some real shit. So damn relatable.

[iizuumi]

more mer au!!

[satoruxx]

you fiddle with your nails as you walk home at tooru's side, the sounds of mattsun, makki, and iwa bickering further up ahead cutting through the empty streets. you’re uncharacteristically nervous, because god knows you’ve never done something like this before—but you steel yourself because it’s worth it for him.

your feelings for oikawa tooru are all consuming—strong and deep and intense. they’ve been brewing for well over two years now, nourished by the increased amount of time you’ve spent with him. they overwhelm you, washing over your being with an intensity you’ve never felt before, and they drive you to stick by his side for as long as you can—desperate and aching for the boy who puts the stars in your sky.

you know that timing is important because tooru is nothing if not driven—singularly focused on the sport that gives him the air he needs to breathe. so you wait until well after his match with karasuno, giving your all to support him and the rest of the team because volleyball has become important to you after spending so much time with them. you give it time, wait until after the team has taken the time to lament over their missed chance, and after all the third years are ready to move on to the next phase of their lives, before you finally decide to spill your guts to him.

tooru stares ahead as he’s walking, pensive and unsmiling, and you’re dying to know what’s going on in his head. his eyes are bright, a contrast to his expression, and there’s a resolute glint in his irises that has you feeling oddly shaken. when you reach his house, the rest of the group waves back at him before continuing on, and you realize this is your chance.

so, dangerously, you put your heart on the line.

you tell him everything you've ever thought about him—how you admire his drive and his passion, how you have looked up to him for years and years. how you have never felt so deeply for someone before knowing him. it comes out in a rushed ramble of words, all those nights of practicing in the mirror doing nothing for you in the actual moment. you stumble a few times, your face getting warmer with every word, and yet as each sentence falls forth you feel a weight lift from your shoulders—the flesh of your lungs clatter against your ribs, anxious and eager.

tooru inhales, gaze darting between your eyes and then flitting downwards. even in the dark of the night, you can see the pinkish hue crawling up his neck, can see the way he fidgets with his own fingers. he stares at you, lips parted as a wide array of emotions flit over his handsome features—they finally settle into a strange combination of apologetic and resigned.

and then he tells you no.

he tells you that volleyball will always take precedence, that he has already mapped out his future, which is too far away from you. he tells you about argentina and how his mind is made up. he tells you that he's flattered, that he's glad you're friends but that's all he can do right now.

“i'm sorry,” he says with a grimace. he studiously avoids looking at you, but you can't stop staring at him—your stomach sinks as he turns to head inside.

it takes you months to muster up the courage to tell him. it takes him two minutes to say no to you.

the rejection stings in a way that is unfamiliar, and you take a shaky breath as you walk down the street to catch up with the others.

the humiliation makes itself known in the form of a painful lump in your throat—unmoving and heavy. when you glance up you see that the third years have hung back, waiting for you. makki is wearing a knowing grin, but it falters when he sees your expression. mattsun, ever observant, seems to immediately understand, and he wordlessly slings an arm over your shoulder.

all you can do is awkwardly chuckle, knowing that it sounds weak and throaty as you shake your head. “i feel stupid,” you admit, voice wobbling as heat burns through your skin—unpleasant and unwelcome.

“you're not stupid,” makki mutters, hands shoved deep in his pockets as his lips slant regretfully. you stare at the ground, nodding slowly under the weight of mattsun's arm. your lungs ache, and you know that if you open your mouth, you will lose it entirely. so all you can manage to do is look up at iwa with glassy eyes and trembling lips and a rueful smile that probably makes you look as pathetic as you feel.

you don't notice the way his fists are clenched at his sides, nails digging indents into his palms. he grits his teeth, gaze flitting to oikawa's house in the background, but he doesn't say anything.

none of them speak as they walk you home, and you try your best to keep the sniffles to a minimum, too embarrassed to look at them.

you've never felt pain like this before, and it's hard to get over it because everything reminds you of tooru. it's like someone has taken a knife and carved into your ribcage, grasping your heart before taking it out crushing it between bloodied fingers. but even despite the gaping hole in your chest you know that there are expectations to be met, things to be done.

that's the strange thing about your silly unrequited love—it hurts and hurts and hurts some more until it stops one day before you can realize it. even though your chest is still bleeding you go on with life—you go to university, you get a job, you pay bills. you get up in the morning and brush your hair and drink water and tie your shoes until the wound closes itself up. you start smiling a little wider and laughing a little freer until oikawa tooru is nothing more than an old name.

and of course there are instances where you are reminded of him and what could've been, whether it's seeing milk bread in a supermarket or passing by children hitting a volleyball over a net out in the sun. you know very well that your friends are occasionally still in contact with their old captain, not that this bothers you. after all, mattsun, makki, and iwa were very careful not to bring him up around you, which you're grateful for. so even hearing the name in passing becomes easier.

it is difficult until it isn't anymore.

you've all but forgotten him now, after years and years and years—nothing more than a distant memory.

so imagine the sinking feeling of dread pooling in your stomach when you walk into the restaurant on makki's birthday and see oikawa tooru sitting at the bar, drink in hand. his eyes are alight as he laughs at whatever conversation he's joined, dark hair falling into his eyes messily.

one step forward, ten steps back.

for a second you can't help but stare, breath stolen from your lungs because it feels like the knife is back and twisting itself into your flesh all over again. there is a panic rising in your throat, suffocating and overwhelming and jarring.

tooru lifts his glass to his lips, hiding his grin as his gaze lazily travels over the expanse of the room.

another surge of panic. the familiar sting of humiliation.

he pauses as he's about to take a sip, brown eyes widening when they land on you, and you see the sharp inhale he takes. his stare doesn't waver, too consumed by shock to look away.

and yet that's all you can do—tear your eyes away because you're different now and it's long gone and you know there is no point in going down that rabbit hole again.

it was a lifetime ago—it's done now.

but you will never know how long tooru thought of you after that night back in high school. you will never know that he felt sick to his stomach when he saw the way your face fell at his rejection. you will never know that he bit his tongue so hard it bled as he watched you walk away from him. you will never know that he spent countless nights in argentina wondering what you were up to and how you were. you will never know that sacrificing you for his beloved sport was the hardest thing he's ever done.

so imagine the sinking feeling of dread tooru feels when he sees the way your eyes light up as you find your way over to iwa's side.

@teddybeartoji this is for you mickey ily hehehehehe