#torū x reader

[kiesbrainjuice]

— AFTERPARTY ! tooru oikawa

➥ pr : timeskip!oikawa x famous!fem!reader

➥ syn : waking up with a famous model in your bed after a afterparty you didn’t remember ? hell nah

➥ wc : 3.2k

➥ tw : drunk sex (no description of sex lol), suggestive talks, make out session at the end, fluffy morning, kind of a oneshot??

➥ a/n : new baby : tooru. but the matter is that I love tooru from s4 only (like the mini moment) because he is prettier in the art of the s4 (like all haikyuu characters lmao)

The bright morning light streaming through the slats of the blinds was enough to make Oikawa Tooru groan as he stirred in bed, his head pounding mercilessly. He squinted against the intrusive glow, and his hand instinctively came up to rub at his temple.

How much did I drink last night?

The pounding headache was relentless, accompanied by a haze of fragmented memories from the night before. He remembered the match—Argentina against Japan. He’d played well, as expected. The crowd had been electric, the cheers still echoing faintly in his ears. After that? The after-party. It had been a lavish celebration, as it always was when his team won a match.

He groaned again, this time shifting slightly to sit up. Something felt off. The sheets bunched uncomfortably low around his waist, and… there was a distinct chill against his skin. All of his skin. That’s when it hit him. He wasn’t wearing any clothes.

Oikawa blinked once, then twice, as the realization settled like a heavy weight in his chest. Slowly, he turned his head to the side, his stomach twisting with dread.

His breath caught in his throat.

There, lying tangled in his expensive silk sheets, was someone else. A woman. Naked.

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

His eyes widened as he took in the scene before him. Long hair spilled over his pillow, framing a face that could only be described as breathtaking. Even in sleep, she radiated elegance and beauty, her features far too familiar to him.

He blinked again, harder this time, hoping he was hallucinating. But no, it was her. You. The internationally famous model. The model who had attended the match last night, who had drawn attention from everyone in the room, including him.

“The fuck did I do?” Oikawa whispered hoarsely, his voice barely audible.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, willing his brain to recall more of the night. Images flashed in his mind—brief but damning. He remembered you laughing, your hand brushing his as you leaned in closer. He remembered drinking, and then drinking more, the two of you at the center of the party. Dancing. Your hand in his. The way you’d looked at him, eyes sparkling with mischief and something more.

And then… nothing. A black hole of memory.

His heart raced as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, careful not to jostle you awake. His bare feet touched the cold floor, grounding him slightly as panic set in. He ran a hand through his tousled brown hair, muttering under his breath, “This cannot be happening. What the hell did I do?”

He stood up, wincing as the pounding in his head intensified. The sleek, modern apartment he called home suddenly felt far too small, the walls closing in as he scrambled to piece together what had happened. His mind raced with questions.

Did we…? He glanced back at you, your bare shoulder peeking out from under the sheets. The answer was obvious.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered, louder this time. His hands tugged at his hair in frustration. What was supposed to be a simple celebration had somehow spiraled into this.

Oikawa moved quickly, grabbing his boxers and pulling them on with a sense of urgency. He needed to think, to figure out how to handle this before you woke up. The last thing he wanted was for the world to find out that Tooru Oikawa, Argentina’s star setter and public heartthrob, had spent the night with one of the most famous women on the planet—and couldn’t even remember how it happened.

As he reached for his sweatpants, he stole another glance at you. You stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent as you shifted beneath the covers. He froze, his heart leaping into his throat. But you didn’t wake.

He let out a shaky breath. Figure this out. Damage control. His thoughts were a mess, his usual confidence nowhere to be found.

All he knew was that this was a disaster waiting to happen, and he had no idea how to fix it.

The sound of running water filled the silence of the apartment as Oikawa leaned against the counter in his sleek, minimalist kitchen. A glass of cold water sat on the marble countertop next to a packet of painkillers, a necessary remedy for the throbbing in his head. His thoughts were still scattered, the events of the night before refusing to organize themselves into a coherent narrative.

How do I get through this without making things worse? He sighed, rubbing his temples.

But just as he was about to pop the medication into his mouth, a small cry from the bedroom jolted him upright.

“Ah!”

This was followed by a loud thud.

Oikawa’s eyes widened in alarm, and without a second thought, he abandoned the glass and rushed toward the sound.

Pushing open the bedroom door, he found you on the floor, tangled in a heap of silk sheets. You were rubbing your temple with one hand, clearly disoriented, while the other hand clutched the fabric tightly to your chest in an effort to cover yourself.

“Are you okay?!” Oikawa asked, rushing toward you but stopping a few steps away, suddenly unsure of how to proceed.

You blinked up at him, your expression a mix of confusion and discomfort. “What the…?” Your voice was hoarse, your gaze darting around the room. It didn’t take long for your eyes to land on him—dressed now in sweatpants and nothing on the torso, his hair still messy from sleep.

Your eyes locked. For a moment, neither of you said a word, the silence charged with unspoken questions.

Oikawa broke the stare first, clearing his throat awkwardly and running a hand through his hair. “Uh, you fell. Are you—are you hurt?”

You shook your head slowly, your fingers still pressing into your temple. “No, just… dizzy. My head is killing me.” Your voice carried a groggy edge as you tried to make sense of your surroundings. “Where am I?”

“My apartment,” he said quickly, before realizing how bad that sounded. “I mean, um, last night… we… Uh…” He gestured vaguely between the two of you, his face flushing slightly.

Your brows furrowed as you pulled the sheets tighter around yourself. “Last night?”

“Yeah…” He scratched the back of his neck, wishing the ground would swallow him whole. “It’s… complicated.”

You groaned softly, closing your eyes and leaning back against the bed. “Of course it is.”

Oikawa hesitated for a moment before walking over to his closet. “Uh, here,” he said, pulling out a neatly folded sweatshirt. He handed them to you, avoiding eye contact as much as possible. “You can wear these for now. I, uh, couldn’t find your dress.”

You glanced at the clothes and then back at him, one brow arching slightly. “You ‘couldn’t find’ my dress? Or did you not want to look too hard for it?”

“Hey!” he protested, holding up his hands defensively. “I swear I looked!”

You let out a soft laugh, your voice laced with amusement despite your pounding headache. “Relax, setter boy. I’m teasing.”

“Setter boy?” He blinked, surprised you recognized him despite the chaos.

You smirked faintly, accepting the clothes. “You’re Oikawa Tooru. Star setter for Argentina. Kind of hard not to know who you are.”

“Ah, well, I guess I’m famous.” He flashed a small grin despite himself, but it quickly faded when he remembered the situation. “Anyway, uh… you can change in the bathroom if you want.”

Once you were dressed in his oversized sweatshirt—which practically swallowed you—you emerged from the bathroom and followed Oikawa into the kitchen.

He gestured toward one of the high stools at the counter. “Here. Sit. I’ll get you some water and something for your head.”

You slid onto the stool, glancing around the apartment as the golden morning light poured in through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows. The view was stunning, showcasing the bustling streets of Buenos Aires far below.

“You’ve got a nice place,” you commented, your voice light.

“Thanks,” Oikawa replied, handing you the glass of water and the painkillers. “Volleyball pays well when you’re good at it.” He gave you a playful smirk.

“Modest, aren’t you?” you teased, taking the pills and downing them with a sip of water.

“Only when it counts.”

The two of you fell into an easy rhythm, the initial awkwardness melting away as you both talked. You shared fragments of last night—how you’d ended up at the match, your thoughts on the game, and your blurry memories of the after-party. Oikawa admitted he didn’t remember much either, earning a laugh from you when he sheepishly confessed to drinking far too much.

“So let me get this straight,” you said, resting your chin on your hand as you gazed at him with a mischievous glint in your eye. “You invited me to the after-party, we drank way too much, and now we’re here—me in your clothes, with no idea what happened in between?”

“Pretty much,” Oikawa replied, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms. “I swear this isn’t how I usually spend my mornings.”

“Sure it isn’t,” you teased, your smile widening.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re awfully confident for someone who woke up in a stranger’s bed.”

“Well,” you said, leaning forward slightly, “when the stranger is as charming as you, it’s hard to complain.”

Oikawa froze for half a second, caught off guard by your boldness. His ears turned red, and he quickly looked away, scratching the back of his neck. “Charming, huh? You must still be half-asleep.”

You laughed softly, enjoying how flustered he was. “Maybe. Or maybe you’re just fun to mess with.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, but there was a faint smile on his lips. “Drink your water before you pass out again.”

The golden light bathed the two of you as the conversation continued, the tension from earlier replaced by a surprising sense of comfort.

Oikawa leaned back against the counter, watching you sip the water he’d given you. He tapped his fingers absently on the marble surface, his thoughts still a little scattered, though the easy rhythm of your conversation was helping ground him.

“So,” he started, after a brief pause. “You’re a model. Internationally famous, apparently.”

You smirked, raising an eyebrow. “What gave it away? The fact that half your team was trying to talk to me last night?”

Oikawa rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “Not my fault you showed up looking like…” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely in your direction. “…that.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It was,” he admitted with a small smile. Then, as if a lightbulb went off in his head, he straightened. “Wait, do you like matcha?”

The sudden change of topic caught you off guard, but you nodded. “Yeah, I love matcha. Why?”

“Perfect.” Oikawa pushed away from the counter, opening a cabinet and rummaging through its contents. “I think I have some matcha powder lying around. Someone on the team gave it to me because they thought I’d like it, but I’ve never actually bothered to make it.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “You don’t know how to make matcha?”

“Is that so weird?” he asked, glancing at you with mock offense.

“Yes!” you said, laughing. “It’s not hard at all. How do you not know how to make it?”

“Look, I’ve got plenty of other talents,” he retorted, pulling out a small tin of matcha powder. “But making fancy drinks isn’t one of them. Think you can handle teaching me, Miss ‘International Model Who Knows Everything’?”

You rolled your eyes, standing up and walking over to join him at the counter. “Fine. Let me show you how it’s done.”

Oikawa stepped aside, giving you room as you inspected the tin and found the necessary tools. He watched you intently, leaning slightly against the counter as you explained each step.

“First, you need a small bowl,” you said, grabbing one from a nearby cabinet. “Then you put a teaspoon of matcha powder in it, like this.”

You demonstrated, your movements confident and precise. Oikawa’s eyes lingered on you as you worked, taking note of how focused you looked.

“Next,” you continued, “you add a little bit of hot water. Not boiling, though—it’ll ruin the flavor.”

As you poured the water, he leaned in closer, his curiosity piqued. “Okay, what’s next?”

“Now we whisk,” you said, grabbing a small bamboo whisk. You turned to him, holding it up. “You do have one of these, right?”

Oikawa blinked at the whisk, then at you. “I mean… I guess I do?”

You laughed. “Unbelievable. Anyway, you whisk it like this.” You began whisking the mixture in quick, precise motions, creating a frothy layer on top.

Oikawa leaned closer, peering over your shoulder. “You make it look easy.”

“It is easy,” you teased, glancing at him. The proximity between the two of you was suddenly very apparent—his face was only inches from yours, his warm brown eyes locked on the bowl. Your breath hitched slightly, but you forced yourself to focus.

“Here, you try,” you said, handing him the whisk.

Oikawa took it, his fingers brushing yours briefly. He hesitated for a moment, then tried to mimic your movements.

“No, no,” you said, laughing as you reached out to guide his hand. “Like this. You need to whisk in an ‘M’ or ‘W’ motion, not just stir in circles.”

Your hands covered his as you corrected his movements, and the closeness left you both a little breathless. Oikawa cleared his throat, his cheeks warming slightly.

“See?” you said softly, glancing up at him. “Not so hard.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, looking away to hide his growing embarrassment.

Once the matcha was ready, you poured it into two mugs and handed one to him. “Alright, moment of truth. Try it.”

Oikawa hesitated, eyeing the vibrant green liquid. “It smells… earthy.”

“Just drink it,” you said, rolling your eyes.

He took a sip, his expression instantly shifting from curiosity to regret. “Oh. Oh no.”

You burst out laughing, nearly spilling your drink. “You hate it?”

“It tastes like grass!” he exclaimed, setting the mug down and sticking out his tongue dramatically. “How do people drink this stuff?”

“Not everyone has the palate of a five-year-old,” you teased, still laughing. “It’s an acquired taste.”

“Well, I’m not acquiring it anytime soon,” he grumbled, crossing his arms.

You smiled, leaning against the counter. “At least you tried. That’s something.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward. “Next time, I’m teaching you something. Something that doesn’t taste like… whatever that was.”

“Deal,” you said, raising your mug in a mock toast. “But I’m still counting this as a win.”

The playful banter between the two of you continued as you lingered in the kitchen, the golden morning light washing over the space and reflecting off the sleek countertops. Oikawa leaned against the counter with his arms crossed, shaking his head as he watched you sip your matcha with an expression of triumph.

“You’re way too smug about this,” he said, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Well, someone has to be,” you teased, taking another sip and setting the mug down. “I mean, you’re the one who didn’t even know how to whisk properly. That’s basic stuff, setter boy.”

Oikawa let out a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes. “I’m a volleyball player, not a barista. Cut me some slack, Miss Perfect.”

“Perfect?” you repeated with a smirk. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It wasn’t meant to be—” he started, but stopped when he saw your grin widen. He huffed. “Fine, it was a compliment. Don’t let it go to your head.”

You laughed, stepping closer to him as you leaned against the counter. “Too late.”

Oikawa shook his head in mock exasperation but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. The conversation felt effortless, the awkwardness from earlier replaced by a surprising sense of comfort.

As the laughter died down, you reached for the mug of matcha again, only for your fingers to brush against his. Oikawa had moved at the same time, intending to push the mug further aside, and the sudden contact startled both of you.

“Ah—sorry,” you said, pulling your hand back.

“No, it’s fine,” Oikawa replied, his voice quieter now.

You both froze, the playful atmosphere shifting into something else entirely. You were suddenly acutely aware of how close you were—close enough to see the golden light catch the warm brown in his eyes, close enough to feel the faint heat radiating from him.

Neither of you moved, and neither of you spoke. The air between you felt heavy, charged with an unspoken tension.

You weren’t sure who leaned in first—maybe it was him, maybe it was you—but the distance between your faces vanished in an instant. Before you could second-guess it, your lips brushed against his, soft and tentative.

Oikawa stiffened for a fraction of a second, clearly caught off guard, but then his body relaxed, and he leaned in further, pressing his lips more firmly to yours.

The kiss was hesitant at first, like neither of you could quite believe it was happening. But as the seconds passed, it deepened, the tentative nature giving way to something more passionate. His hand came up to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing your cheek as he tilted your head slightly to deepen the angle.

Your fingers curled into the muscles of his toned torso, pulling him closer as his lips moved against yours. His other hand found your waist, the touch gentle but firm as he pulled you flush against him. The heat between you was undeniable now, your breaths mingling as the kiss grew more heated, more desperate.

Your back pressed against the counter as Oikawa crowded closer, one hand braced against the marble to steady himself. The other remained on your waist, his fingers curling slightly as if he were afraid you might pull away.

But you didn’t. If anything, you leaned into him more, your hands moving to tangle in his hair. He let out a soft, almost surprised sound against your lips, his grip on your waist tightening in response.

Time seemed to blur as the kiss turned into a full-blown makeout session, the golden morning light casting everything in a dreamlike glow. The taste of matcha lingered faintly on your lips, but it was quickly forgotten as Oikawa consumed your attention entirely.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads resting together as you tried to catch your breath.

“Well,” you murmured, your voice slightly breathless, “that… wasn’t in the plan.”

Oikawa let out a soft laugh, his lips curling into a small, lopsided grin. “Yeah, definitely not.”

He kisses you again.

You glanced up at him, your eyes meeting his. “But you’re not complaining, are you?”

“Not at all,” he admitted, his voice low and warm. “In fact, I think I could get *kiss* used to this.”

Your lips quirked up into a playful smile. “Careful, setter boy. You’re starting to sound smitten.”

“Maybe I am,” he replied, surprising even himself with his honesty.

The golden light continued to spill into the room as the two of you stood there, wrapped in each other’s presence, the rest of the world forgotten for the moment.

Ⓒkiesbrainjuice all rights reserved. please to not plagiarize, repost, or translate !

tag : @haechansbbg

[makkir0ll]

thinking about co-star!oikawa who you’re filming a rom com with. it’s fun, flirty, and the two of you have a good dynamic with each other whether that be on set or behind the scenes.

especially behind the scenes because the two of you are in a secret (not so secret) relationship. the whole hair and makeup crew has pretty much picked up on it. the makeup artists who have to re-do your makeup after the two of you are "practicing lines" in each other's trailer. they have to cover up hickey on your neck when you claim it's just a burn from the curling iron the hairstylist used. your hair in an up-do for this specific scene you're filming.

but what get's everyone caught up on your not so secret relationship is when the two of you have to film the steamy makeout scene in the movie that occurs when the two characters finally kiss each other. oikawa keeps "messing up" the kiss. going in for the kiss too early or too late, not making it perfect. so this leads to you having to re-do the scene fifteen times, and in between each time you're getting your makeup retouched up and you see him smirking and winking at you from across the room.

(during press tour, he's asked what his favorite scene to film was and he says the kiss. this stirs the pot for sure and the two of you are now trending on twitter with tweets such as - "oikawa tooru and l/n f/n dating confirmed? watch this clip")

[sassycheesecake]

- ATSUMU MIYA, TŌRU OIKAWA, KŌTARŌ BOKUTO, Shōyō Hinata, Tobio Kageyama, LEV HAIBA, Satori Tendō, SHŪGO MEIAN, KIYOOMI SAKUSA

[auragasmics]

HE LOVES IT WHEN I...

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ synopsis! sugar daddies just love their sugar babies. but for you, these rich dilfs have a soft spot for your antics!

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ pairings! sugar daddy iwaizumi hajime, kuroo testsurou, oikawa toru x fem!reader

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ cw! 1.3k, drabble + headcannon format, age gap (hq men are early 40's, reader is late 20s), fingering, cl♡ t slapping, dom!iwa is a little mean, spoiled!reader, daddy kink (sry not sry, let's grow up ://) phone sex/video call sex, vouyerism, exhibitionism, mutual masturbation, pillow-tribbing

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ xoxo, chris! love hq men...love and cherish them!

Sugar Daddy!Iwaizumi loves it when you throw tantrums!

He finds it all the most alluring, fueling the dominance within his veins. Whether it’s Every bit of attitude, pout, and sass you give him, he absorbs it, keeping careful count of each occurrence. 

Unbeknownst to you, Iwaizumi finds such joy in your little tantrums, especially right now. He knows how you’ve been crushing on some new bag, he still remembers your presentation of the newly released collection you swiped through a few nights before. To keep his precious girl happy, he’s taken the day off just to court you himself. 

But all that comes crashing down when the heel of your pearly white stilettos threatens to pierce through the glossy white floor of the boutique when he denies you of that purse you claim to need —oh so— much. He chuckles intently, guiding his pouty princess back out to the car with the driver waiting patiently. 

He gives you a few minutes to calm down, soothing you with soft pecks along the crook of your neck. He knows exactly what gets your legs spreading and those curvy hips bucking in the air. 

His girthy digits drift down to your panties, ripping the gossamer material to the side. Iwaizumi toys with your clit for a while, sighing at how easily the tender bud slips against his calloused pads. It’s satisfying to both of you, giving birth to the arousal brewing at the pit of your belly. 

“You must hate me, I know, I know. But y’re makin’ such a mess you’re making on my fingers, baby. So fucking cute,” he grins, teasing the slit of your cunt with pulsing fingers. Just when you prepare yourself mentally for the delicious stretch, an abrupt jab of pain distracts you—the fresh sting of Iwaizumi’s thick fingers crashing against your clit. 

“Hajime, wait!” His name comes flying from your gaping mouth. Your eyes peer down at Iwaizumi’s hand reeling back to land another slap. But there’s a certain detail that makes this little session of punishment even worse.

What makes it worse is how Iwaizumi’s display of dominance turns you on and the proof decorates his calloused hand. It’s disgusting how the flat of his palm glimmers in your slick—almost like the gems from the handbag you wanted so badly. 

Before you could even think, Iwaizumi laid his lips along your ear, his warm breath nipping at the flustered shell. He had a message for you and he thinks that this time, you’ll get it loud and clear.

“Don’t you ever embarrass me in public like that again, or else I’ll fuck the reminder into that thick skull of yours.”

Sugar Daddy!Kuroo loves it when you call his name!

He swears it fills his stomach with those innocent butterflies, hearing his bubbly muse coo his name. It’s a cute purr, flows right off your tongue, and ends in a smile that could make Kuroo empty out his bank account right at that moment. He likes to play dumb sometimes, claiming his hearing fades in and out from time to time. Yet, Kuroo always stands tall and giddy with perked ears, waiting for you to repeat yourself.

Kuroo especially loves when you call out to him in grace for his services, ranging in a multitude of forms. His favorite one, of course, is when your orgasm hinges at the tips of your freshly manicured toes, the nerves prickling at the surface of your supple skin.

With his cock buried so deep inside your—his—cunt, it drags along your walls with such intensity. But Kuroo doesn’t dare to increase the pace, his hips lagging behind a languid drive. Not as it matters, even without using a pummeling force, Kuroo still manages to have your body on edge. 

“Aww, what’s wrong, Angelface? Use your words, what do you want from me?” He’ll tease, using those thick fingers of his to squeeze your cheeks together, forcing out a wet pucker from your drooling lips. It’s all just overwhelming, the heat of the room, his hunkering frame shadowing above your own. 

Your hands claw at his forearm, proving his resolve to be stronger than your own. It wasn’t your fault, it was Kuroo’s stubborn ego, acting as the driving effort to see that his needs are met. Kuroo lays a trail of pecks up to your neck, lingering along your jawline and ending at your cheek, each one dressed with apathy.

His words are just teasing, the only solace being his hitching pants warming the shell of your ear as he spoke smugly. 

“Say it with me now, Te-tsu-rou…c’mon Baby, say it for Daddy. Tell me just how you wanna cum all over my cock.”

Sugar Daddy! Oikawa loves it when you send him pictures!

It’s a boost of confidence, sending the man photos whenever you decide to frilly yourself up for the day. Even if it’s just running to the store, Oikawa wants it all. 

He loves to have a collection of his precious baby looking her best, making up for all the times he couldn’t join you. Whether he’s away for work or tucked up inside a stuffy hotel room, he’s swiping through his file of photos reserved just for you and that gorgeous smile. Yet when it’s the ungodly hours of the night, he’s upping his game from pictures to full-blown videos, even video calls to please his fancy. 

Each one of these calls consists of you dollied up and dressed in his favorite set of lingerie. And with what he likes, it barely leaves anything to his imagination. To have those sheer panties hanging around your waist, just for the inner seam to leave you crotchless. What's better than getting straight to the chase? 

That’s what he likes and that’s what has your phone propped against the headboard, giving his heavy tourmaline hues the scene of you desperately rutting into his pillow on the bed. The satin pillowcase dragged along your clit, taunting the sensitive bud with its smooth material. 

Your inner thighs scrape along the plush fabric, your hips rocking into the cotton. Keeping a constant pace is key to your impending high, the soft moans flowing from your mouth like a crystal clear stream of the purest water. Oikawa had his sights pinned on you, watching your desperate search for a climax unfold before him. 

“Feels good, right Princess?” He’ll ask with a heavy chest, Oikawa wincing at how rough the palm of his hand was. It was nothing like your touch, the plush skin of your digits that would struggle to hold his length.

He was struck by an off sense of nostalgia, memories of his salacious youth being re-lived with each uncaring stroke of his fist. Just to even come close to your touch, Oikawa removed bits of his barreling strength, the pad of his thumb swiping at the blushing head of his dribbling cock. He bit his lip greedily, his ears piqued for your reply. 

You hum in response, clutching the puffy mass in your fist. It did feel nice, working yourself into an orgasm underneath Oikawa’s watchful eye. Knowing that he’s on the other side, stroking that fat cock of his with his rough hands, and wishing he had your sputtering pussy instead is all the motivation you need.

“I-I’m so close, wanna cum with you, ‘Ru,” you mew out, increasing your mere nudges to erratic bucks of desire. Oikawa could only growl in return, the frustration of his inadequate touch pitting him against time. Tossing his head back, the apple of his throat bobs at his staggering pace. At the final moments of his stability, Oikawa groaned out his final request of the night, something you couldn’t attempt to defy.

“Cum for me, Pretty. You better make a fucking mess for me to come back to, got it?”

∞ ₒ ˚ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ˚ ₒ xoxo, chris! a repost from my old blog, but i hope you still enjoyed!

[volleychumps]

When He's your Rival (w/ Tsukishima, Oikawa, Kuroo, and Atsumu) x Fem! reader

enemies to lovers but someone mistakes rivalry with feelings LMAO

Warning(s): cursing! some unwanted touches by an asshole in Oikawa's part, crying- Y/N's a little crybaby sometimes LOL

Tsukishima Kei

"Take a look and cry, four-eyes."

"Go back to fifth grade, I'm begging."

Smirking at his snarky comment, Tsukishima finds the energy to lazily lift his head off the desk, staring blankly at the red 97 inked on the corner of your paper, complete with a messily scrawled circle and a smiley face.

You always were a teacher's pet.

"Nice." The blonde yawns, going to put his head back down. "I scored a 99 though. Guess having four eyes really helps."

He can't stop the satisfied twitch tickling his lips as he buries his head a little further into his crossed arms, the sound of your groan of annoyance music to his ears as you crumple your test paper in your fist.

"This isn't over, Tsukki. I studied all night for this!"

"Don't call me that." He lifts his head to scowl at you as you haughtily spin on your heel, determination in your steps and a gloomy cloud over your head over the loss as he calls after you. "Not my fault you're obsessed with me."

You do a 360, pouting all the while as Tsukishima eyes you evenly, amusement twinkling momentarily in his eyes as he watches you grow flustered.

"I am not! Don't get it twisted, Tsukki- the only thing I'm obsessed with beating your sorry ass!" You crumple up your test paper further, fuming as you leave it on his desk in a childish manner.

"Why is my ass sorry when you're the one who lost?"

Yamaguchi watches on with a sigh, Tsukishima watching you storm off with a little bit more than amusement in his eyes before turning to his childhood friend.

"You feed into this way too much, Tsukki. Y/N is nothing but sweet, why do you bring out the worst in her?"

The tall blonde hums, his hand supporting his right cheek. "It's because she's just so fun to talk to."

Yamaguchi shivers at the cynical tone his childhood friend had taken on, wondering why this childish rivalry between the two of you had been stretched for as long as it was.

"We've known each other since we were kids, Tsukki. Y/N's parents used to joke about you guys marrying each other because you hated each other so bad."

"I don't hate her." Tsukishima's reply is immediate, moving to shift his headphones back onto his ears. "The brat knows I'd take care of her if it came down to it, so quit you're worrying, Yamaguchi."

Yamaguchi's expression shifts to one of surprise, but Tsukishima's already distracted, eyeing your crumpled up test before dropping into his bag.

Nothing wrong with taking a trophy, right?

A couple weeks later, you're holding your breath as your eyes scan the top 100 scores in the school during late-study hours, the halls nearly barren, willing your name to be above a certain blonde hair middle blocker before visibly wilting.

"Ah, look." You groan, the utterly amused voice you're not wishing to hear at this moment sounding in your ears as Tsukishima smirks down at you, finger prodding at the box marked Tsukishima Kei before pretending like he's looking for your name.

Not one, but two names down from his.

"Looks like someone didn't study-"

Tsukishima cuts himself off at the sight of your eyes filling up with frustrated tears, not expecting the sight before him to make his chest heavy.

You were always so dramatic.

"Tsukki, you win this time." You sniffle, wiping your eyes haughtily as he looks at the eye bags under your eyes, growing annoyed all of a sudden- even more iriate when he can't figure out why.

He knows this, but why is this effecting him so much?

"Oi." His voice is quiet with an agitated edge, putting a hand on your shoulder to lean you up against the wall. "Why are you so obsessed with this? You're so stupid- crying over something as meaningless as beating me."

Your cheeks puff up at his blatant remarks, his chest tingling before you take a deep breath before knocking your forehead against his, taking the blonde boy by surprise as he glares down at you, rubbing his nose.

"What the hell-"

"I just want to be your equal, you always treat me like I'm such childish brat." You tell him, mixed feelings in your throat as Tsukishima takes on a look of bewilderment. "Ever since we were kids-"

"So you just want my attention, is that it?" Tsukishima's smirking now, the pain in his nose unnoticeable as your expression stiffens, a hint of realization in your eyes as the blonde's throat suddenly grows tight.

"What-"

"Little Y/N, do you have feelings for me?"

"You're not that much older-!"

"Don't avoid the question, brat." Tsukishima's even closer now, hand touching the wall by your waist as your eyes dart all over the hallway. "Is this what all this rivalry is about? Why you care so much about proving-"

"And what if I do?" Your voice quivers for a second, Tsukishima's lips shutting tight at your words before frustrated tears grow in your eyes again. As if realizing what you said, your eyes grow wide with embarrassment- shoving him away before taking off down the hall.

The tall blonde stands there for a second, soaking in the last few minutes before touching the back of his neck, the tips of his ears reddening before sighing deeply.

He rolls his eyes before smirking a little, your confused expression flashing in his mind once more as he wonders what will become of your one-sided rivalry.

Fuck a trophy. He wants to see you make that face again.

Oikawa Tooru

"Tooru, you wanna fight me so bad."

"Just because I want to doesn't mean I will, Y/N-chan. You'll probably lose."

Iwaizumi barks out a laugh as your glare evenly matches Oikawa Tooru's, lightning flashing between the two of you as the brunette crosses his arms with a frown. He almost thinks it's fate- the two of you ending up in the same class seated next to each other with Oikawa by the window.

"The fact that you said probably instead of definitely means we both know Y/N would win in a fight."

"Stay out of this, Iwa-chan!" Oikawa doesn't break eye contact with you, growing more irriated at the sweet smile that overtakes your lips.

"Tooru, I'll start telling people your hair isn't natural in color~" You start doodling on your notes nonchalantly, amused at the popular boy's growth in irritation.

"You wouldn't dare." Oikawa pales at the obvious lie, knowing your effect- how your words would send ripples through the school by the end of the day.

That's right, ever since you transferred schools and gained popularity as the most sought-out girl at Aoba Joshai and had made a passing comment (you didn't really think about it) about how you had no idea who Oikawa Tooru was and didn't really care- the school's popular setter has had it out for you.

Iwaizumi had a huge kick out of it though, satisfied seeing his friend being put in place by the one girl he couldn't really have. You grin cheekily, batting your eyelashes innocently as Oikawa meets it with a pouty stare.

"Why do you care so much of what I think of you?"

"I don't."

"Then piss off." You close your eyes with sugar-laced words, causing Iwaizumi to turn around with a shaking back.

"Iwa-chan, stop laughing!" Oikawa whines, turning his attention back to you with a haughty remark to discover you had stood up and skipped off towards the exit of the classroom.

"She's got me. I'm her fan- I see the hype."

"Iwa-chan, you're supposed to be on my side!"

"Y/N didn't know who you were- big whoop." Matsukawa yawns, leaning back in his seat from in front of Iwaizumi. "Not everyone cares about volleyball."

"And she was new." Hanamaki adds, shrugging his shoulders at the look of betrayal his brunette-friend had sent him. "I'm just saying- maybe your anger is misplaced?"

"Oikawa has a crush~"

"Mattsun- I almost threw up, please." Oikawa sighs, spinning around in his seat with a newfound exhaustion. He looks out the window, eyebrow twitching when he sees you bowed deep in apology to some poor student who was obviously amidst confession. His defined chin touches his palm in thought as anger swirls in his stomach.

How he despises you so.

You were so annoyingly pretty. It was ticking him off, how you spoke so nicely to his three provoking friends yet would barely muster up a smile at him unless it was sarcastic. Oikawa observed as you messily brushed your hair back with your hands to focus on your work, growing even more annoyed when he discovered how much you cared about school.

It was all because he didn't like you, that's why he paid so much attention.

..right?

He's sipping from a can of orange juice, having ducked away from his fanclub to turn a corner of the school no one really frequents when he sees you again later that week.

"Y/N- you always act like you're too good for anybody."

The tall brunette stops at the corner, peering around it while remaining out of sight.

"Maybe I just don't like guys who pressure girls into dating them." You don't miss a beat- but Oikawa hears it, the tinge at the edge of your voice.

Fear.

Some nobody who Oikawa doesn't even know the name of clicks his tongue, grabbing your wrist roughly as you stare down at his strong clasp on you.

"Let me go, you fucking loser." You're pissed off now, smiling your signature grin- the one with no real sweetness behind it. You were afraid to have followed this dangerous guy to an empty part of the school- thinking one of your fellow students would never do this sort of thing.

You were so wrong. His grip tightens as you try to fling his hand off in frustration.

"Pretty Y/N-chan. I'll ruin that face of yours and beat that attitude-"

"Someone isn't taking rejection very well."

You blink in wild surprise as your back touches Oikawa's chest abruptly, his strong grip on the student's wrist as he yanks him off. You don't see him, but you don't have to turn around to know that Oikawa was pissed.

"Get your pretty boy toy out of here, slut." You wince at the insult slightly when the guy doesn't even look at Oikawa, still glaring down at you before Oikawa tugs you gently behind him, towering over the absolute nobody who dared to put a hand on you.

"You shitty coward." You look up at Oikawa's broad back and shoulders, anxiety draining out of your system as Oikawa keeps a firm grip on your hand. He squeezes your hand once, and you get the message.

You're okay.

"Getting physical with girls now, are we? Someone doesn't want to have a future." Oikawa mocks, tilting his head to the side menancingly with a smug grin on his face. "You know what pisses me off the most? When people don't acknowledge my existence."

You've never seen this side of him before.

Suddenly, Oikawa side steps, both arms reaching out to keep you behind him as his grin widens. You cover your mouth at the sight of the student having failed to land a punch on the setter's jaw.

"You attacked me, right?" Oikawa hands you his bag, jaw clenching before easily grabbing the guy's collar, the height difference making him pathetically dangle slightly off the floor. You gasp when his eyes take on a darker edge, delivering a hook of his own to the side of his face, not seeming to hold much back as Oikawa momentarily wonders just what was fueling all this anger.

"What's going on here?! Oikawa Tooru, let him go!"

When he drops him to the floor on command, you're looking at him differently.

Maybe you should've cared a bit more about just who Oikawa Tooru was.

You're still staring when he ignores the teacher, your wrist in his hand as he inspects it, asking you something- but you don't hear him, feeling an unknown swirl in your stomach.

And why the hell he was making you feel something you've never felt before.

Kuroo Tetsurou

"Kuroo, get over it."

"Don't roll your pretty eyes at me, kitten."

You huff, not even bothering to look up at the raven-haired captain as you check another tally on your clipboard. Another successful receive for Lev.

"How do you do it?"

"Kuroo, we've been over this-"

"Blah blah blah."

The interruption ticks you off, prompting you to finally look up from your work as Kuroo Tetsurou smirks down at you easily.

"It's not my fault they like me so much."

"They can't like you more than me! I'm the captain!"

"Someone's insecure."

It's Kuroo's turn to grow irritated at your remark, and you smirk successfully as Kenma sighs at the sight of you two from across the court. Yamamoto sweat drops, bouncing a volleyball off the wall as you and Kuroo begin bickering. You were annoyed as the taller captain grinned easily down at you.

"Why does Kuroo-san hate Y/N so much?"

"No idea. She makes me cookies when I listen well during practice!" Lev adds brightly. "If anything, Kuroo's the villain."

"Nah." Kenma doesn't look up from his game, thankful you're keeping his childhood friend occupied so he can't make him practice. "Kuroo doesn't hate her."

The surrounding members still, eyeing the short boy weirdly as the volume of you two bickering rises in the background.

"He definitely bothers her because it's fun." Kenma flicks his joystick, suddenly immersed in the level as it grows more interesting. "I wouldn't be surprised if he likes her."

Kenma's just speaking his mind at this point, but his fellow teammates don't believe him as Kuroo flicks your forehead, breaking off in a run as you chase him out of the gym in irritation.

"Yeah. Sure."

--

"Okay everyone," you begin, fiddling with your papers as the volleyball team sit in a circle with their knees tucked into their chest, hanging on to your every word as you try not to smile at how well-behaved they were. "Nekomata-sensei is out today, and he left instructions-"

"We'll be practicing in 3-on-3's."

You hold back a groan as Kuroo cuts you off, standing up easily as the tension between the two of you rises. He cocks his head to the side like what? with a growing smirk on his handsome features, causing your irritation to grow further. To annoy you on the sidelines of practice was one thing, but to disrupt you in front of the team is another.

"Anyways, like I was saying-"

"Shouldn't the captain know what's best for his team?"

Oh you hated being cut off.

You meet him with an even stare, trying not to let your temper get the best out of you.

"Kuroo-"

"Call me Tetsurou, Y/N-chan."

Kenma sighs when the lead of your mechanical pencil breaks against the clipboard, knowing Kuroo was pushing limits he hadn't before.

"Alright, Tetsurou." Your voice is venomous, shoving the clipboard with their coach's instructions into Kuroo's hands with an aggression you were having trouble controlling. You were so mad you began to see your vision get blurry, suddenly exhausted from the captain's antics and why he wouldn't leave you alone.

"You lead practice then." Kuroo's easy smirk grows into a worried stare at the sight, watching you storm off before he can get another word out.

"Boo, you made our manager cry."

"This is why you'll die alone."

"Y/N for president!"

But Kuroo isn't listening to the obvious slander from his teammates, putting the clipboard down before jogging off after you, Kenma rolling his eyes to unzip his gym bag for his switch.

"He flirts like a little school boy."

The raven-haired third year catches you in the halls, frustrated with yourself as your back touches the shoe lockers behind you. You didn't mean to overreact. It was something about him that made you so-

"I'm sorry, Y/N."

"Don't apologize." You grumble, looking straight on ahead before glancing upwards. Kuroo awkwardly takes a seat next to you, the sound of after-school activities filling the air in your silence.

"Do you hate me or something?"

Kuroo blinks once, guilt filling his chest at the ideas in your head before hanging his head with a heavy sigh. It seems he took his antics a bit too far.

"Y/N, you're just fun to tease." He drops the nickname, and you smile a bit knowing he's serious. "I don't mean to make you upset. The team loves you, and I..."

He trails off, causing you to cock an eyebrow. Kuroo looks away quickly, clearing his throat before looking back at you-

to see you genuinely smiling at him, his chest suddenly tight.

"That's a relief. You're too much sometimes, but I can't say I don't enjoy our conversations. I didn't mean to over-react-" You cut yourself off, suddenly worried as you raise a hand to his forehead. "Wow, you're suddenly flushed. Are you sick, Tetsurou?"

He grows a shade darker when your sweet voice calls his first name, seeming to short-circuit in front of you as question marks seem to appear by your face.

Meanwhile, the team shushes each other as they peer around the corner of the hallway, Yamamoto and Lev's mouth agape as a certain gamer merely shrugs.

"Told you so."

"Nobody likes a know-it-all, Kenma."

Atsumu Miya

"'Samu, tell me I'm better than her."

"I'm not lyin' to ya', twin or not."

Almost immediately, the blonde setter glares at his own flesh and blood, Osamu offering a slight smirk in response at his brother's irritation. Atsumu sinks lower in his seat, pouting as Suna rolls his eyes to the right of him.

"Can't believe I'm spending my precious free time to watch more volleyball."

Atsumu isn't listening to his friend, silently focused at the way you controlled the court, triumphant grin on your face as you score the winning point to take the first set. In fact, you had scored over half the points, the other team's blockers barely standing a chance. He had to come see it. All the buzz around school can't have been for nothing.

Y/N L/N. Volleyball prodigy that seemed to have come out of thin air.

Osamu whistles lowly. "Y/N's kinda like you."

"Don't insult me, 'Samu." But Atsumu knows he doesn't mean it. Suna glances at his friend once, sipping his drink casually as Atsumu gets a glint in his eye, fire seeming to erupt in the back around him.

"Oho, Atsumu's got a rival." Suna isn't too interested, merely observing his surroundings as Osamu coughs back a chuckle.

"Shuddup." Atsumu mumbles, eyes meeting yours as you look up at the stands to see just who was burning holes into your head. He shakes his head with a smirk on his lips when you cockily blow a kiss in his direction.

"Y/N...that's Atsumu Miya, you do know he goes to our school, right?"

"Oh...shit." You back down, suddenly embarrassed as you look away, Atsumu's eyes spinning with amusement and eagerness to one-up you, the cheers of the stadium mocking in his ears.

So low in behold, you try not to let the surprise etch onto your features when Atsumu is pointing a finger at you, having escaped the boy's gym to crash your practice when after-school activities come around.

"You." You blink, utterly confused as your teammates squeal in excitement at his presence. "Yer' practicin' with me, got that?"

Your jaw slackens at the audacity, wondering if he wanted to practice or if he wanted to prove something. Atsumu knew he had the right idea about you when you take a step forward, tilting your head in challenge.

"Think you can keep up?"

--

"Oi, stop harassing Y/N at the girl's gym and practice with your team." Aran puts emphasis on his words as Osamu snickers from behind him, watching his twin get scolded as Kita sighs.

"She is very good at what she does." The captain nods. "But that doesn't mean our paths have to cross with the girls'- in fact, they never should."

"Then let her play here." Atsumu doesn't care if he doesn't make any sense. "Y/N runs circles around her team anyways- hell, she's pullin' the whole team on her back."

The Inarizaki team resist the urge to roll their eyes at their setter's blatant slander. Osamu is amused, tying up the net as he attempts to tame his twin.

"She runs circles 'round you, that's for sure."

Suna stifles a laugh as Atsumu feels it again. Competition. He loved the feeling of it- the feeling that things were finally getting interesting.

He's walking towards the girl's gym again to drag you out to play with his team so he can play against you, when something he hears makes him pause in his step.

"I just don't understand what Atsumu-kun sees in her!" It's a high pitched whine, one that causes his eyes to darken.

"Right? It's not like Y/N is pretty or anything like that."

"She's good at volleyball- so what? It's not like she'd be anywhere without her team."

A tap on his shoulder is what breaks him out of his eavesdropping, turning slowly to see you standing there with a sad smile, grip tightening on the bag filled with drinks- you had went to get drinks for the entire team, while they boldly slandered you behind your back.

Your voice is hushed, but tinged with a bit of hurt as you shrug.

"It's just the way of the game."

"Like hell it is." Atsumu growls, swinging open the door as you gape at the action. Before you can react, Atsumu's laugh is resounding through the gym as you peek out from behind his back.

"Oh my god, aren't you three bench warmers? Yer' the ones talkin' shit?" He can't hold back his laughter as you audibly sigh from behind him.

"A-Atsumu-"

"Oi." The blonde isn't laughing anymore, eyes on the edge of menacing as he cracks his neck, eyes darkening. "Squeal all you want, just hope and pray I'm not there to listen to it."

"Y/N-senpai, we're so sorry!" You blanch at the three girls who were now bowing profusely in front of you before assuring them it's fine, tugging on Atsumu's arm with an eyeroll.

"We need to talk."

"You know, you are pretty." Atsumu grumbles as you tug him along. "I don't know why they-"

"I can fight my own battles, 'Tsumu." You huff at the boy in front of you, considering him both your rival and your friend. "It's just misplaced jealousy- don't make it worse between my teammates and I. I would've said something- come on, do you know me?"

Atsumu stands there for a second, soaking in your words as a slow realization comes onto him. This whole time, he's been treating you like a rival, a thing, something to propel him further and sharpen his skills-

not realizing he had slowly grown to care about you a little more than a rival maybe should. He had moved without thinking, the thoughtless words not meant for his ears pissing him off way more than it would've any other person.

But this was you. You always walked along your bicycle when he insisted on walking you home, making him listen to your music as you trained before eventually making playlists for him when he told you how much he liked it. You trained with him for as long as he wanted, even going to the public gym together when you trained with your respective teams.

Atsumu is still staring at you, seeming to process something as you laugh a little at his expression as the sun begins to set behind your figure.

"I'm not mad at you. Come on, I'll bring you back."

"Quit treatin' me like a stray." Atsumu mumbles, but he's unfocused, burning holes into the back of your head as you tug him along, smiling back at him.

"You have a bad habit of staring at me, you know?"

Oh shit.

"Well, you did call me pretty and all." You tease, winking once as you wave at his team in the distance, waiting by the practice gym to continue the practice as his prolonged absence ended up affecting the entire team.

Atsumu ducks his head as his twin smirks at the sight, Atsumu's face on fire as his eyes lock on to where you're hand is touching his arm.

He's so fucked.

[clawsdevour]

｡. ˚oikawa husband hcs

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

っ ᐟ˒𓂂

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

masterlist here

[cr4yolaas]

second best — iwaizumi hajime

part 2 here !

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you beamed at him. “okay. i promise.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“everything.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i missed you too, haji.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“possibly?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i do get it, i promise, but-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“connections that could get me places!”

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

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

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

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

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

can we call?

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

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

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

“hello? this is, um- is this-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[gladiatorcunt]

- GUESS | XIII.

you wanna guess the color of my underwear, you wanna know what i got going on down there

cw: kinktober prompt (ass worship), yoga trainer!oikawa, fem reader, rimming, body hair, scent & piss mentions, light implied yandere, public sex (?), hinted possibly one sided iwazumi x reader, light dub con, mentions of fisting, implied that oikawa’s been into reader from the start, semi obsessive behavior, porno plot, self degradation, food play mention

please do not repost, translate, or feed this work to ai

kinktober 2024

“Mmh, just like that cutie, lift those hips up for me.”

You’ve been coming to the new yoga class that just opened up at the gym for a while now, a couple months a few times a week, you’re a bit of a homebody otherwise and yoga is the one physical exercise you don’t mind doing often. You like being flexible, able to bend your body in shapes and ways another person would have a harder time doing. And you’re not having sex, so any physically strenuous activity that leaves you sore until you’re put back together by your healing body does wonders for you.

Plus you like the way the leggings hug your well endowed assets, so do a lot of the men in the gym. You wear the form fitting workout clothes for yourself first and foremost, but you can’t lie that a little attention from afar (sometimes too close up by one of the trainer’s usually steps in to help you) boosts your ego. If there’s one thing in life you have to be proud of, at least you have your ass. Squishy and round, jiggles when you walk and never disappoints you unlike everything else in your life.

The same ass that’s raised high in the air in front of your yoga trainer, a more than handsome man in his late 20’s with wavy milk chocolate colored brown hair and a smug twinkle in his eye that’s connected to his smarmy always on his face (even when he seems pissed) grin. You’ll never forget the confidence in his posture, standing tall at the front of the class and introducing himself. Tooru Oikawa, just moved here from japan, his best friend owns the place so it wasn’t too much trouble to get hired, and SO excited to start this journey with you all!

You’ve stayed at the back since then, anxiety swirling in your belly when he’d make the rounds to correct your forms and check on you all. But he’d only pass by with a brisk touch to your back and a ‘good job’, maybe a semi solid pat if you were one of only ones who had a good form, and not to brag, but that’s been the case on more than one occasion.

Now you’re undergoing a little one on one session, he asked you to hang back, noticing you’ve been holding yourself back. You’ve never made much of an effort to talk to him and despite the fact that you’ve never needed this kind of focused attention, he’s been feeling a bit bad that you keep to yourself so much. He doesn’t bite you know, not unless you want him too.

It’s an odd flirtation, something you’ve noticed he never does with anyone else in the class. Oikawa’s attractive enough that you’d balk at him abusing his privilege to drown himself in quickies in the gym’s showers, as off putting as it’d be. But he’s very professional, chuckling at one of the older women making a pass at him and politely turning her down.

So you got in your own head and knew that since there was always room for improvement, surely there must be something he could help you with. So here you are, going through basic poses first before he pushes you into the more advanced ones. You told him that other than increasing your flexibility, you weren’t really sure what other areas would be best for you to get better at.

Oikawa smiled and squeezed your shoulder, no worries, he’ll walk you through a little assesment mini program. Since you mentioned not having done yoga seriously until now, there could easily be something you didn’t even realize needed to be attended to!

“Remember, we want to really feel that stretch, arch your back and lower your head. Breathe in, breathe out.” He instructs, settling a wide palm on your lower back. “That’s it, good girl.”

He’s so close, if you backed up to regain your footing your ass would press up against his bulge. Not that you can tell if he has one right now, but you’re kind of hoping he does. It’s just another part of the fantasy, that’s all this is, you tell yourself. You’re going to soak up the attention, make more small talk as you gather your things and leave, and sit at home suffocating your vibrator until your legs turn into jelly.

“Am I doing this right? My legs feel stiff.” You shift your weight from side to side, your hips gently sway, you could be too in your own head but having Oikawa’s pretty eyes scrutinizing every detail of your body is fucking with your confidence.

He hums, a trail of heat sizzles down your back as he slides his palm down to cup your hip. “If something seems off then it probably is, just widen your stance and put your feet further apart, loosen up your hips. You’re definitely a little tense, cutie.”

Okay so he’s definitely flirting with you, but you don’t startle and shoot back up so you can get out of here. Instead you internally cringe at the squeaks your yoga mat produces, adjusting your ankles to line up more with your shoulders. You keep breathing, in and out, letting your energy flow through your limbs as you maneuver them into the different positions.

Oikawa Tooru burns like a furnace in hell, you realize. Despite having a firm grip on your hip, he’s standing a respectable distance away from you as you bend over. You can still feel the heat radiating from him, his sleeveless muscle tank and his black shorts.

“I think that’s better. Sorry, it's hard for me to relax, I guess.”

“No worries, I totally get it, you do seem like the type to be wound up but that just means we get to unspool your thread and unravel you so we can get to the start and rebuild.” His free hand curls around your other hip, his thumbs absentmindedly stroke the crease where they disappear into your thigh.

This private coaching session is steadily becoming what you’re afraid of, and so horny for you could shoot off into the sky like a soda bottle chocked full of mentos. You didn’t notice when Oikawa got even closer, his blunt hip bones cradling your ass in between them. Could he just be weirdly, and grossly in most people’s eyes, friendly? Does he even see what he’s doing as being the tentative first step into fucking you in a public gym yoga studio?

“Um, yeah, thank you by the way. I’ve felt so much better since I’ve started taking your class, you’re a lifesaver even if I still have a lot to learn.”

“Oh, we all do, including me, believe it or not. I remember you from back then you know, so shy and fidgety, like a baby bunny.”

“You’ve really filled out too. Excuse me for saying this but I know this ass wasn’t always like this, so pretty and plump.” Toned hands drag over the swell of your cheeks, not digging in and kneading the globes, only ghosting their touch along the clothed flesh.

You subconsciously wiggle your hips, Oikawa’s breath hitches behind you, and that is perhaps the most monumental thing you could have achieved today. Flustering the man who gets hit on a billion times per day and gives it back tenfold, a competition of who can keep their cool, that’s how he operates in most things you guess. Like he’s always competing against somebody even if they don’t know, and he just has to win or it’ll be an ugly spot on his record. A record only he keeps and only he sees, but you sense that that’s more important to him than anything else.

“Oh, thank you. I just do a lot of squats every morning and every night after class, nothing crazy. Yoga’s the only other kind of workout I do consistently, anyway.” You're still in what feels like a perverted version of downward dog, briefly taking stock of the strain in your legs now trying to hold the position.

Oikawa makes a surprised sound, “Really? You have such a great body, I’m shocked you’re not a gym rat like me and all my buddies. Some people are just lucky, huh cutie?”

He says it, humble and charming, like he doesn’t also consider himself one of those people. Your cheeks heat up at the idea of a musclehead like Oikawa complimenting your curves, your chubby gathering of fat even in places some people would find ugly, your wideset bones and plush tummy.

A pin drops, “Alright. I think you’ve been in that position long enough, why don’t you go ahead and lower your knees into the table top pose, bring your head up slowly and remember to breathe. In, out, good girl.”

His hands guide your hips down, he steps back to let you settle your knees on the mat. You hear the foam sink behind you, he’s sort of kneeling too, halfway sitting on his legs, the backs of his feet facing the ceiling. Oikawa looms over you like this too, he has a presence you can be lost in before you actually see him, which you definitely can in the wall to wall mirror in front of you. The yoga class was a dance studio before Iwa decided it didn’t fit with his vision, you remember Oikawa telling you all on his first day.

He must feel your wide eyed stare, because he looks up too and suddenly you’re locked in a charged moment.

Neither of you says anything as his feather light touches on your ass become firmer, he’s outright groping you and pulling you back to be flush against his crotch.

He grinds his half hard bulge against you, keeping eye contact with you through the mirror.

“I can’t believe it’s taken you this long to notice me, cutie. Been wanting to do this for so long, you have no fucking idea.” He huffs, adjusting his clothed cock to rest between your cheeks. “You’re so hot, every time I saw you bend over I wanted to cancel class and take you right then and there.”

You gasp and rock back into him, shaking your hips and digging your knees into the mat. You have half a mind to look around the room for the camera and porn filming crew but reality is clearly stranger than fiction, your hot yoga trainer’s stiff cock is sandwiched in your ass crack.

He takes his sweet time dragging his length up and down, the tip catches in the divot of your leggings where your hole is, you’re a little disappointed that he’s not humping you like a rutting dog but you suspect that that’s part of the fun. Oikawa knows you want him so bad that he’ll restrain his urge to fuck you through the floor all the way to the center of the Earth just so you can endure some teasing. You’re so shy and withdrawn but those girls are usually the best kinds of freaks, all he’s doing is bringing it out of you, call it another one of his famous coaching methods.

The door’s locked, so if Iwazumi catches on to what’s happening and tries to rain on your parade, he’ll have to listen to a symphony of moans and slick sounds of bare sweaty flesh slapping against bare sweaty flesh. Oikawa laughs and tells you that Iwa’s been eyeing you too, when you check in at the front desk, when you’re getting water, when you head into the changing rooms to get ready for his class, it’d be helplessly cute if you weren’t already taken. Or, you’re gonna be, at the very least.

“When we’re done, I'll clean you up with my tongue and we can go on a little date. I can take you out properly this weekend but I'd hate for you to think that I was just trying to hit and quit it. I’m not the type to pump and dump, not anymore.” He speaks into the divide of your ass cheeks, having sunk to floor fully and doing some bending over of his own to be at eye level with your lower half.

You bite your lip when he starts nipping at you through your leggings, he smiles into the fabric and bites down harder, soothing the sting with slow licks. Oikawa kisses all over the swell of your behind, sniffing the scent of your perspiration and your body oil in between, medicinal vanilla and natural musk. You can see him hump the mint green yoga mat as he reaches up to hurriedly tug your leggings down enough to expose your ass. Your black thong frames it perfectly, but Oikawa pulls them off too and stuffs them under the waistband of his shorts.

He groans at the sight of your bare skin as it bounces free to say hello, taking a handful of each cheek and squeezing the life out of them, the thick flesh bulges between his fingers so he swiftly smacks each one, for tempting him and making his cock so hard it could explode into a blood filled mess of cum and sticky pubes in his pants. You cry out, rocking forward only to be immediately pulled back so he can keep kissing your ass.

He dotes on it like he would your face or mouth, almost giggling before and after quick pecks that develop into long slurps at your rim. He runs the tip of his nose over the hair on your crack, wetting it in messy swipes of his tongue.

“You taste so fucking good, baby, better than pastry i’ve ever had, and believe me, you don’t even want to know how much money i spend at the bakery across the street from my apartment. You’d love it.” He moans, saying hello to your winking hole by dotting barely there kisses right in the center before toying with you, dipping the tiniest bit of his tongue in your walls, then dragging his saliva all over your pucker. “It’d be fun to eat something off you, we could make a date out of it. Go up to the counter and pick which ones would taste the best when I eat it off your fat ass, but I think they’d all be amazing, don’t you?”

You nod rapidly and throw your ass back on his tongue, burning in shame with every smug laugh and grunt as Oikawa beats around the bush so to speak, doing everything under the sun with your ass but properly eating it. You wish you were in your shitty apartment, sitting on his face and drowning out the sound of your arguing neighbors with your slutty moans. He looks up from behind you to check on how you’re doing, and thank heavens because he finally buries his face in your ass and slurps at your puckered hole.

You lose yourself to the experience, feeling his wet tongue fuck into your ass hole and carve out little pieces of you for himself. He pays zero attention to your pussy, which is why it’s so wet and dripping onto the mat beneath you, it’s like he’s too obsessed with your thick globes to even notice, but you don’t hate it. It’s hot to have a guy be eye socket deep in your ass but also have him neglect where you really need his attention, there’s a dichotomy between being the mousey way you’ve gone about your life and the whorish behavior this man is urging you to consider.

You looked fucked out already, hair all over the place from how much you’ve messed with it and lips dropping open on drawn out squeals and whines. Oikawa is eating your ass out like it’s his main job, the one he puts in overtime for and goes above and beyond to be employee of the month at. He thrusts his tongue a few more times before apparently deciding that’s not enough and slipping in one of his absurdly long fingers alongside it.

You whimper, clenching around both as you just sit there in that damn table top pose and let a man you barely know play your ass like a well oiled fiddle. He shakes your cheek in his hand as he digs his tongue into you, delicately fingering your hole until it goes slack enough for him to insert another. You’re impossibly tight, as much as your clit is howling for it you know perfectly well that any serious penetration isn’t possible. From the impressions you got, Oikawa’s packing enough to tear you until you bleed if you don’t use lube or prep thoroughly beforehand, which you’d do anyways but it’s a shame.

Your clit throbs painfully but Oikawa pulls back with a gulp of air to level you with a warning look in the mirror, which only gets you wetter, you twitch again because he’s one of those. There’s a brief flicker of defiance, you could pout and touch yourself anyway, you don’t owe this ridiculously attractive man anything and he’s the one motorboating your ass cheeks and not the other way around, so shouldn’t you be the one in charge?

Then his eyes darken, you get another sharp smack and you table the discussion for some far off occasion.

Oikawa smiles, gently kissing the apple shaped swell of both of your cheeks, “See, I know from your time here that you can be such a good listener, you’re so sweet for me, I know it. You can’t hide that from me just because you want to throw a fit, I said we’d get to know each other afterwards, didn’t I?”

You scoot your ass back in apology, silently begging him to get back to it. He must really be horny too because he dives straight back in, groaning into your rim and french kissing your hole. The hand not doing its best to push its entirety into you kneads your fleshy ass cheek, molding it like dough and separating it from its twin, giving him easier access to your pucker. He ‘tsks’ not even a second later, crooking his two fingers and letting go off your cheek, humming in contentment when it bounces against his face and he’s smothered again.

He wonders if you’ll let him fist you, give you a unique one of a kind rose to swoon over and keep tucked away inside you later, the perfect first date gift from your future boyfriend.

You can even do couples yoga in the morning after your first night together!

“Let’s see if you can cum just from getting your ass played with.” Punctuated by a fourth finger sliding into the knuckle in your ass, he scissors his fingers to stretch you out and playfully acts like he’s gonna sink his whole fist in, pulling out his fingers to curl them into a ball.

The barest hint of blunt pressure on your hole sends a flood of your juices down his arm, smelling somewhat pissy which gives Oikawa truly the most impish grin imaginable.

[ilylovelyz]

Please do literally anything with Kenma I’m obsessed with him rn

⍣ ೋ how they fell in love

˚ · . kenma kozume & oikawa torū

kenma kozume — because you made him an apple pie. it seems silly, yeah–but that's truly what made him began developing feelings with you. not because of the many hours you spent playing with him in silence, talking to basically yourself as he was too shy to respond to a female. not because you gave him your very detailed and simplfied notes you made specifically for him because you knew that he's be too tired out of his mind from the winning-streak he did last night to pay attention today. no, it was because you made him an apple pie, something he only mentioned once in passing.

"hey ken.." you cheekily say, a large grin written across your face. kenma looks up from his nitendo, eyes greeting you silently before they move back to his screen. "wow! such a greeting!" you tease, despite being ignored so blatantly, you couldn't help but giggle at his intense expression that he sports while playing.

you feign a sigh, your hand coming up to tap at his wrist, earning a surprised flinch from the blonde. his hand quickly pulls away, allowing you to take advantage of the opening he gave you and snatch his nitendo from his other hand. "y/l/n-san.. what are you doing..?" he groans out, his hands trying to reach over the desk to steal back his game.

to anyone else, it looks like he hates you. maybe he does–, but to you, that's just the way he speaks. "oh please, you can spare a minute or two." with that, you're smiling greatly at him and suddenly pulling out a black container, setting it on top of his desk. "ta da~!" you laugh, your hands laying on top of your knees anxiously.

his cat-like eyes glance up at your own, confused, he just sits there. you dart your eyes back up to him and to the container, hoping that he'll get the message to open it. it seems to work, "...you wan't me to open it?" you roll your eyes at his response, "noooo, it's just gonna stay on your desk for all eternity.. jeez—just open it already!" kenma jumps at your raised tone, rushing to open the container in hopes of settling you down.

he blinks down at the contents inside the container, his hands resting on the edges. "this is.. apple pie..? for me?" he asks, his tone more soft onces he realizes. "i made it, for you." you smile, urging him on to taste it. "here," you lift a the pink fork on the inside, slicing the apple pie and lifting it up, only stopping in front of kenma's mouth.

he glances up at you once more, his eyes training onto the piece of apple pie. it does look yummy... finally, he moves forward and takes the bite into his mouth, chewing it slowly to inspect it. you watch him closely, watching for any reactions.

with a swallow, he sits there, his eyes looking elsewhere. "it was good," he admits, earning a content laugh from you. before you could ask him anything else, you heard the call of your name. you follow the voice, seeing that it's your friend standing in the doorway. she calls for you, wanting you to come with her.

"enjoy it, kenma-chan," you say, giving him back his console and walking away. kenma stares at you blankly, still holding the fork in his hand as he watches you leave the classroom. his eyes glance back at the miniature apple pie, sighing softly. he digs his fork in for another piece. he's glad you left, that you didn't see him blush so much when he took the first bite of the best apple pie he's had in awhile.

oikawa torū — because you stood out from the others and stood your ground. despite the two of you not dating or talking, you were still running the "relationship". he thought because of his looks, you'd easily give in like the rest of them, fall to your knees and end up heartbroken when he'd leave. but no, you made him work for it–for you. hell, he couldn't even tell if you liked him back. he didn't even realize it, but he was chasing you around like some lovesick puppy, following your orders and looking up at you like you were some goddess. he finally realized it when you called him out for it, and even then, it made his heart pound in his chest for you.

oikawa watches with those pretty brown eyes of his, they reflect of his target, you. he chews on his pretty lips, ripping the skin of their delicate flesh. his features, oh his pretty features, once so relaxed and perfect, are now scrunched up into a face of worry and fear.

he watches you, his eyes occasionally darting to the random guy next to you whenever he talks to you once more. in this moment, oikawa wishes so bad he was in your proximity, he wants to hear what the stranger is saying to you. is he flirting with you? is he asking for your number? maybe he's a family member. no, wait, no family member would move close to you like that.. no, no family member would wrap their arm around your shoulder!?

oikawa leaves the court, running hurriedly to where you sit. he ignores that the game is about to start, and that he hasn't even stretched yet. he makes his way up the bleachers, hastely walking towards you. but it seems your attention isn't even on him, it's on the guy next to you instead. or is it? from what he sees, it is. but really, you're just letting the scene in front of you play, it's cute to see oikawa this way about you.

"y/n-chan." he says, trying to make his voice sound as stern as possible. you feign a giggle at the guy next to you, pretending to not hear oikawa to bait him even further. it works, as before you can react he's wrapping his hand around your wrist and pulling you up from your seat and down the bleachers, practically dragging you out of the gym.

you hold back a menacing laugh as oikawa pushes you against the wall of the gym, seeing the hurt and fear on his handsome face. "y/n-chan, who was that? why'd you ignore me?" he asks, his lips pulled downwards into a frown. he cups both of your hands into his own, holding them tightly. "huh? what are you talkin' about? i didn't even know you were there." you say, acting dumb about the whole situation.

"yes you–, y/n-chan who was that guy?!" he whines, desperate to know the answer. his whining is cut short when you snap back your hands from him, lightly pushing him away from you. "why do you care? we aren't even dating." your voice is feigned with annoyance, your arms crossed upon your chest.

his heart drops at the realization. right.. the two of you aren't even a thing. his eyebrows furrow at the thought, he thought, just like the rest, you'd be the one to ask him out, not the other way around. if the two of you aren't even a thing, then why does he care? much to his own expectations, he doesn't even know.

he sighs deeply in defeat, his hand subconsciously moving towards yours. his eyes are glued to the ground, lips stuck into a thin line. you try not to let it show, but it breaks through, your laugh just escapes through your throat, confusing the already upset oikawa. "what's so funny?" he asks, his eyes wide at your sudden outburst. "haha–it's–it's, really nothing, heh–, you're so cute, toru," you struggle to say, emphasizing the use of his first name, he's begged you to call him by his first name, but you've just never done that.

his heart fluters at the use of his name, blush coating his cheeks so nicely. cute? "oh.. oh, were you messing with me?" he asks timidly, his hand coming up to scratch at his nape. oikawa lightly scoffs when you nod, still laughing at your own cruel joke.

finally, with a last chuckle, you nod your head, smiling mischievously at him. "so then.. who was that guy?" he asks, feeling more confident within himself. you shrug your shoulders, "a friend i paid $5 to act like he was flirting with me."

oh. oikawa sheepishly backs away, his face painted a light color of pink. he feels his phone vibrate, probably a text from iwaizumi calling to see where he's at. just as he takes out his phone and is about to open it, you're pushing yourself forward, your hands planting themselves flat on his chest as you get onto your tippy toes to give a longing kiss onto the apples of his cheeks.

"good luck," you say cheekily, returning flat onto your feet and walking away from the dazed oikawa. he can only turn his head to watch as you walk back into the gym, his cheek tingling in the spot where you kissed him. god, you just have him wrapped around your finger.

please like and repost with tags

[tsumuus]

The air was charged with excitement and anticipation as athletes from around the world gathered in the Olympic Village for their first dinner. The buzz of conversation filled the dining hall, a blend of languages and laughter. Toru Oikawa, the star setter for Japan’s beach volleyball team, scanned the room with his trademark confident grin. His eyes landed on a table where a group of female beach volleyball players were seated, their camaraderie evident in their animated discussions.

Among them, one woman caught his eye. Your laughter was infectious, your presence magnetic. You were talking to your teammate, your eyes sparkling with excitement. Oikawa nudged his own teammate, who was busy devouring a plate of pasta.

“Who’s that?” Oikawa asked, nodding towards you.

His teammate glanced over and shrugged. “No idea, but she’s definitely out of your league.”

Oikawa rolled his eyes. “Watch and learn.”

With a self-assured stride, he made his way to the table, flashing his most charming smile. “Excuse me, ladies,” he said smoothly. “Mind if I join you?”

You and the women looked up, some blushing, others giggling. You raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “If you’re looking for an autograph, I’m afraid you’re mistaken. We’re not celebrities here.”

Oikawa chuckled. “I’m not here for an autograph. Just thought I’d introduce myself. Toru Oikawa, Japan’s beach volleyball team. And you are?”

You exchanged a glance with your teammate before responding. “yn ln. Nice to meet you, Oikawa.”

He took a seat beside you, undeterred by your cool demeanor. “You know, yn, I heard the best way to relax before a big game is to spend time with someone interesting. How about we go for a walk later?”

You smirked. “And you think you’re that interesting, do you?”

“Absolutely,” Oikawa said with a wink. “I promise, you won’t regret it.”

You laughed, a sound that made his heart skip a beat. “Sorry, Oikawa. I’m here to win gold, not to play games. But good luck with your matches.”

He watched as you and your teammate stood up and left the table, your laughter echoing in his ears. For a moment, he was stunned by the rejection but quickly brushed it off. There were plenty of other fish in the sea, after all.

The next day, Oikawa and his team decided to catch the women’s beach volleyball games before their own practice. The stadium was packed with cheering fans, the atmosphere electric. As the match started, Oikawa’s attention was immediately drawn to the court where you and your teammate were playing.

You were a force of nature on the sand, your movements precise and powerful. Oikawa found himself captivated, unable to tear his eyes away. Your skill and endurance were unmatched, and as the match progressed, he could feel his admiration growing.

“Wow,” His teammate muttered beside him. “She’s incredible.”

Oikawa nodded, his eyes never leaving you. “Yeah, she is.”

When the final point was scored, securing your team the gold, the stadium erupted in applause. Oikawa watched as you celebrated with your teammate, your joy infectious. In that moment, he knew he had to see you again.

After the match, Oikawa made his way to where you and your team were gathered. He approached you with a confident stride, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Congrats on the win, yn,” he said, his voice warm. “You were amazing out there.”

You turned to him, a hint of surprise in your eyes before it was replaced with amusement. “Thanks, Oikawa. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I couldn’t miss a chance to watch such an incredible match,” he replied. “You really stood out.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile. “Is this another attempt to ask me out?”

“Guilty as charged,” Oikawa admitted with a grin. “How about we celebrate your win with dinner tonight?”

You shook your head, still smiling. “Sorry, but I’ve got plans with my team. Maybe another time.”

He sighed dramatically. “You keep breaking my heart, yn. At least come watch our game tomorrow. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

You hesitated for a moment before finally saying, “We’ll see.”

Despite your noncommittal response, Oikawa couldn’t help but feel a spark of hope.

Throughout your time at the Olympics, you and Oikawa seemed to run into each other constantly. Each encounter was filled with your usual banter and playful teasing, creating a tension between you that was impossible to ignore. Oikawa's persistence never waned, and each time, you would laugh and turn him down, but always with a smile.

One morning, you were in the gym, focused on your workout. The rhythmic sound of weights clinking and the hum of treadmills filled the air. You were in the zone, completely absorbed in your routine, when a familiar voice interrupted your concentration.

"Hey, yn! Need a spotter?"

You looked up to see Oikawa, grinning from ear to ear, a towel slung over his shoulder. You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smile tugging at your lips. "I think I can manage, Oikawa."

He feigned a look of disappointment. "Oh, come on. Let me help. I promise not to distract you... too much."

You shook your head, but moved aside, allowing him to take position behind you. As you continued your reps, you could feel his eyes on you, and it made your heart race a little faster. Despite his playful demeanor, he was genuinely helpful, offering tips and encouragement.

After your set, you sat up, wiping sweat from your brow. "Thanks for the help. Didn't think I'd see you here so early."

He shrugged, taking a seat on the bench next to you. "I could say the same about you. Thought you'd be sleeping in after that intense match yesterday."

You smirked. "Rest is for the weak."

He laughed, the sound warm and infectious. "Spoken like a true champion. How about we grab a smoothie after this? My treat."

You shook your head, still smiling. "Nice try, Oikawa. Maybe next time."

He sighed dramatically. "You keep breaking my heart, yn. But I'll keep trying."

Another evening, you found yourself in the dining hall, scanning the array of international cuisine laid out before you. You were reaching for a plate of sushi when a hand beat you to it.

"Great minds think alike," Oikawa said, holding up the plate with a triumphant grin.

You rolled your eyes, grabbing another plate. "Don't you have your own food to eat?"

He shrugged, following you to a nearby table. "Food tastes better with good company."

You sighed but didn't protest as he sat across from you. As you ate, the conversation flowed easily, filled with your usual banter and playful teasing. He regaled you with stories of his teammates and their antics, and you found yourself laughing more than you'd expected.

"You're not so bad, Oikawa," you admitted after a particularly funny story about his teammate's failed attempt to cook ramen.

He placed a hand over his heart, feigning shock. "Was that a compliment? From the great yn? I'm honored."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Don't let it go to your head."

He leaned forward, his expression turning serious for a moment. "I mean it, though. You're pretty amazing, yn. On and off the court."

You felt a flutter in your chest at his words but quickly masked it with a smirk. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Oikawa."

"We'll see about that," he replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

One afternoon, you decided to relax by the pool, hoping to get some peace and quiet. You found a secluded spot, laid out your towel, and settled down with a book. The sun was warm on your skin, the sound of water splashing around you creating a soothing background noise.

Just as you were getting lost in the pages of your book, a shadow fell over you. You looked up to see Oikawa, dripping wet from the pool, a wide grin on his face.

"Fancy seeing you here," he said, shaking his wet hair like a dog, droplets of water splashing onto you.

You held up your book as a shield, laughing despite yourself. "Do you follow me everywhere?"

"Only when you're somewhere interesting," he replied, plopping down on the towel next to you.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't suppress a smile. "And what makes you think I want your company?"

He shrugged, stretching out beside you. "I figured you could use some entertainment. How's the book?"

"Better before you showed up," you teased, closing it and setting it aside.

He laughed, a deep, genuine sound. "Always so harsh, yn. So, how about a swim? Bet I can beat you in a race."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Is that a challenge?"

He nodded, eyes sparkling with excitement. "Absolutely. Loser buys dinner."

You considered for a moment before standing up. "You're on."

The race was close, both of you pushing yourselves to the limit. You felt a thrill of competition, matching Oikawa stroke for stroke. In the end, you won by a hair, emerging from the pool breathless but triumphant.

Oikawa climbed out after you, panting and laughing. "I guess I owe you dinner."

You smirked, wringing out your hair. "You can keep your dinner. The victory is enough."

He shook his head, still smiling. "One of these days, yn, you're going to say yes to me."

You laughed, grabbing your towel. "Keep dreaming, Oikawa."

As you walked away, you couldn't help but glance back, finding him watching you with that same mischievous grin. The tension between you was undeniable, but you were determined not to let him win so easily.

As the Olympic Games drew to a close, Oikawa realized his time was running out. On the last day in the village, he made one final attempt to find you. He went to your room, but it was empty. He searched the dining hall and common areas, but there was no sign of you.

Desperate, he spotted your teammate and rushed over. “Where is she? I need to see her.”

“She left for the airport about an hour ago,” your teammate replied. “Her flight isn’t for another three hours, though.”

Heart pounding, Oikawa hurried to the airport. When he arrived, he scanned the crowded terminals until he finally spotted you at the baggage check-in.

He jogged over, slightly out of breath. “Wait!”

You turned, surprised to see him. “Oikawa? What are you doing here?”

He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “I know we’ve only known each other for a few weeks, but I couldn’t let you leave without telling you how I feel. I’ve never met anyone like you. You’re incredible, and I can’t stop thinking about you. Can I at least have your number? Maybe we could go out sometime once we’re back home.”

You looked at him, your expression softening. “How did you know I was here?”

“Your teammate told me,” he admitted, his eyes earnest. “I could have asked for your number from her, but I wanted to do this right. I wanted to tell you in person.”

You smiled, a genuine, warm smile that made his heart race. “That’s surprisingly romantic, Oikawa.”

“So, will you give me your number?” he asked, hope shining in his eyes.

You nodded, pulling out your phone. “Alright. Here’s my number. And maybe, just maybe, we can go out sometime.”

He grinned, relief and happiness flooding through him. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

As you walked away to board your flight, Oikawa couldn’t help but feel that this was just the beginning of something amazing. He watched you go, his heart light with anticipation for what the future might hold.

a/n not my best, a lot of it is just empty words idk how to explain it lol, but lowk a bit loooooonger than i thought it was gonna be lol

masterlist

[saigethearies]

osamu and you leave your daughter with her uncle atsumu for the weekend. chaos ensues.

___

“i woulda felt better leavin’ her with kita or aran.”

you let out a snort at your husband’s statement. “over your own brother? her blood relative?”

you and osamu were driving to a weekend getaway in the mountains. while the two of you were excited for a break and some quality time, there was no denying that there was some apprehension in the car.

it was the first time you’d be away from your baby daughter. as great as a vacation sounded, it would be a lie to say the two of you weren’t reluctant to go.

in order to ease your nerves, a suitable babysitter was chosen.

only osamu didn’t have a lot of faith in your choice.

“exactly, he’s ma brother, so ‘m the only one who understands just how much of ‘n idiot he truly is.”

“but you saw how happy he was to offer to watch her! atsumu loves being a uncle, he won’t half-ass taking care of her. besides, if he ends up needing help your mom is just a call away.”

“ma’s hostin’ her book club this saturday, she can’t just drop everythin’ if tsumu’s dumbass ends up needin’ help.”

you let out a sigh. “samu, just try and relax. i’m sure everything over on his end is fine.”

____

“COURT BABY! COURT BABY! COURT BABY!”

hinata and bokuto chanted as they watched your daughter crawl across the shiny floor of the msby practice gym.

having grown tired of the play mat and toys her uncle atsumu had laid out for her, the little one decided exploring her surroundings would be far more exciting.

“she’s crawlin’ earlier than most babies would,” atsumu chimed proudly. “must’ve got ma athlete genes.”

sakusa rolled his eyes from behind the fake blonde.

“she’s really going fast! let’s time her to see how quick she can move!” hinata suggested, fascinated by the little human on the ground.

“we’re supposed to be doing passing drills-“

“GREAT IDEA HINATA!” bokuto shouted.

“i give up,” the masked brunette said, moving to sit down on the bleachers since apparently no one was going to actually bother to follow instructions.

atsumu smirked while watching his teammates fawn over his niece. he knew it would be a good idea to just bring her to friday practice. the vibe for fridays was always a little more laid-back, and he knew having a cute little baby around would earn him brownie points with his excitable teammates. who didn’t love babies?

his brown eyes shifted over to sakusa momentarily, who was gazing at his niece with a look of disdain on his face.

okay, maybe he didn’t enjoy kids, but the rest of the team sure did!

“hey hey hey, baby miya! let’s see how quick you can crawl to your uncle tsum-tsum!”

atsumu grinned, moving to kneel on the ground so he can encourage his niece to move towards him. seeing the familiar face of her uncle- who shared a face with her father- had her happily babbling away as she pushed towards him.

“awe, she’s trying to talk!” hinata cooed, lip wobbling as he watched the precious exchange.

“alright, everyone,” a voice boomed. everyone turned to see a muscular figure with a head of spiky black hair enter the gymnasium.

“your coach asked me to come over to ensure you boys were actually practicing,” iwaizumi hajime (27) athletic trainer stated. “i have some specific stamina exercises i want everyone to participate in. we’re gonna start by-“

movement in the lower peripheral of iwa’s vision caught his attention and the former ace found his gaze turning toward the floor.

“…why the hell is there a baby here?”

“don’t fuckin’ curse in front’a ma niece!”

“you just- nevermind,” iwa grunted, trying to be as patient as possible considering there was a literal infant present.

slotting his clipboard into the junction of his shoulder, the athletic trainer bent down to gently pick up your daughter. balancing her on his hip as if he’d done it a million times before, he turned back to the team.

“alright, jumping jacks and high knees, i want those heart rates getting up!”

before atsumu could open his mouth, iwa shot him a pointed look.

“i’ll hold your niece, miya, now get moving.”

the squeaking of shoes against the linoleum floor began to sound off. after ensuring everyone was properly following his instructions, he turned to the baby in his hold.

everyone knew iwaizumi was tough, but few knew how much of a complete softie he could be at times. giving your daughter a small smile, he lifted his hands to wave his fingers at her, to which she smiled back and tried to mimic his movements.

he let out a light laugh. “motor skills coming along there, i see-“

“iwaaaaa-chaaannnnn,” a voice sounded off from behind him.

iwaizumi froze. that voice, that stupid nickname, he knew it from anywhere. he began to turn his head to look behind him, gradually as if he was moving in slow-motion.

there was no way…

“guess who flew all the way from argentina to surprise you with his presence,” oikawa boasted as he stepped into the room. “that’s right, me-“

the seijoh grad fell silent as his chocolate colored eyes fell on the small human in his best friend’s hold.

oikawa blinked once. twice. three times. then-

“since when did you have a kid?”

“tooru, this isn’t-“

“how could you keep this from me?”

“will you please just-“

“a whole child? when?”

“shittykawa just shut up-“

“STOP CURSIN’ IN FRONT’A HER!”

“-and listen to me for a second!”

oikawa finally stopped his tirade, moving towards iwaizumi to study the baby in his arms. he bent down to be eye level with her, the both of them staring at each other curiously.

the brunette hummed to himself, reaching a finger out to poke your daughter’s cheek. “she doesn’t look like you.”

“wow, what an observation, it’s almost like she’s not my kid.”

“then who’s is she-“

“she’s my niece,” atsumu growled out, pushing oikawa away from the baby he was prodding at. he fixed the other man with a glare, well aware of who he was and what position he also played. the fact that this potential rival thought he could casually touch his flesh and blood had the fake blonde heated. “i’m takin’ care’a her for the weekend, which means i ain’t letting no lesser setter lay’a hand on her.”

“lesser setter?”

“oh boy,” iwa said, moving away from the two ego-fueled players. he could tell they were about to scuffle and he couldn’t let a baby be anywhere near that.

placing your little girl safely to the side, iwa crouched in front of her, sounds of “never saw ya at spring nationals” and “let’s see what your stats are, huh?” airing in the background.

“you stay right here, i’m gonna go get them to knock it off.”

standing a few meters away from all the chaos, sakusa watched as iwaizumi tried to wrench the two setters apart. sighing, he shifted his gaze to your daughter sitting unattended on the ground, babbling at nothing in particular.

sakusa grimaced. he really didn’t like babies. they were so…germy. and gross. but, he supposed the babies themselves couldn’t really help that fact. it wasn’t their fault they were so little and had such new immune systems.

a shadow then loomed over your daughter, bokuto and hinata standing over her. now that iwaizumi was too distracted to lead them in workouts, the two’s attention was back on the infant.

“i know!” bokuto exclaimed. “let’s do passing drills with baby miya! we can pass her back and forth to each other!”

“she’ll feel like she’s flying! like she’s a little crow!”

“or an owl!”

“you two will be doing absolutely no such thing with this child,” sakusa interjected, scooping your daughter up and going to sit down on the bench with her.

“but ki-“

“no.”

he wasn’t a fan of babies, but considering your daughter’s uncle was currently holding oikawa in a headlock, sakusa figured he could keep an eye on her for just a few minutes. it wouldn’t be too much longer before iwa finally decided he’d had enough and smacked the shit out of both of them.

hearing a little gurgle from below him, the brunette cast his eyes downwards. your daughter’s sight was transfixed on him, a smile coming onto her face when she saw she had the spiker’s attention.

from behind his mask, sakusa felt the corners of his lips twitch upwards.

okay, maybe babies were a little cute.

[kurooangel]

⊹₊⟡ sfw content ⋆ ── f!reader. masterlist.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . argentina!oikawa, who was amazed by your accent as soon as he met you. how you flawlessly moved your hands when you spoke, your perfect spanish when you translated what he said in japanese to spanish so people could understand him.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . argentina!oikawa, who calls you almost every day because he needs extra spanish classes. he actually doesn't listen to you, he just hears your pretty voice while he stares at your gorgeous face, occasionally nodding so you think he is paying attention. your smile is so cute when you think he has understood something, when he actually has no idea about what you're saying.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . argentina!oikawa, who hugs you tightly after his team wins a game and says a quite bad pronounced "¿salimos a celebrarlo?" (How about we go out and celebrate it?) with a soft smile on his face and a loving gaze while he looks at your eyes. you can't help but giggle shyly and nod.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . argentina!oikawa, who asks you how to say I love you in spanish, and when you tell him it can be "te quiero" or "te amo", he answers "me halagas, linda" (you flatter me, pretty girl). you can't help but burst out a laughter, which makes him laugh as well, and the people in the club — including his teammates — look at you like both of you were crazy.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . argentina!oikawa, who grabs your hand hardly without noticing it while you're watching the argentina vs france in the final of football world's cup and it's time for the penalties. his hand is sweating, but your cheeks are red, so while he doesn't say a word about your cheeks you won't do so about his hand.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . argentina!oikawa, who kisses you after gonzalo montiel scores and argentina wins the world cup 2022. he couldn't care less that his whole team and their partners were there, too. all he could focus was in messi, dybala, paredes, gonzalo montiel and the stunning girl he was kissing.

[makkir0ll]

being spotted in public by the paparazzi with costar!oikawa while the two of you are getting a coffee on a sunday morning. it drives the fans crazy and the rumors of the two of you bring together just heighten with the way you're wearing his sweatshirt, and his arm is wrapped around your body with his hand settled into the back pocket of your jeans, holding you close to him.

and of course the fans are hyper analyzing the picture taken and now there are screenshots of one particular angle where you can see a dark hickey that you sucked into his skin from last nights activities that's peeking through the collar of his shirt. you're just glad that they can't see the scratches on his back and the bite marks that you also left behind.

the fans go crazy, saying things like "there's no way they aren't dating." and "it's so obvious" as well as the usual "that was supposed to be me."

your pr team is blowing up both of your phones telling you to atleast have some deceny and put some makeup on to cover up the hickey, and to also post on social media that the two of you are dating instead of breaking the internet everytime the two of you are seen in public.

but where's the fun in that?

[sassycheesecake]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your belly is having a small bump again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?" He asks harshly into the round.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Okay papa!"

Oikawa farewells Hinata and wishes him good luck.

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

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

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

Let the battle begin.

[struwberrii]

boyfriend! oikawa who would do silly and embarrassing things if it meant he could see you smile or hear you laugh

boyfriend! oikawa who would regularly trick you into eating healthier with him and drinking more water by trying new recipes and new restaurants with you

it was around that time of the month (🤨) where your boyfriend, tooru, would surprise you with a date night. the only tip he gave you this time was to dress formal (oolala)

of course while you were getting ready on your side of your shared bathroom, oikawa would look over and shower you in kisses while complimenting how beautiful you looked and how lucky he is to have you

after the two of you are ready, he takes you down to a new restaurant that opened recently, located at the top of a tall building in the city. he reserved seats next to a beautiful water fixture with a nice view of all the city buildings beneath you.

of course he wasn’t going to tell you this was an 100% organic restaurant though, not that he thinks that would’ve made a difference, you probably wouldn’t even realize.

boyfriend! oikawa who tries to get you to come to the gym with him to do ‘couples workouts’ but just wants to show off and flex his muscles for you

boyfriend! oikawa who talks about how beautiful and amazing his s/o is to anyone who will listen (iwa is sick of you guys)

“oikawa!? hurry the hell up and pick some sunglasses so we can get back to practice!” iwa yells in his usual angry demeanor towards oikawa.

“hold your horses iwa, i’m waiting for y/n to reply” oikawa mumbled the second half of that sentence while constantly refreshing his phone.

“what does y/n have to do with your damn shades” iwa snaps back

“you think i’m gonna buy sunglasses my partner doesn’t think i look sexy in?”

“yuck, i’ll be in the car shitty-kawa”

boyfriend! oikawa who literally cannot function if his partner is upset with him

boyfriend! oikawa who always has an arm around you or his fingers interlocked with yours

boyfriend! oikawa who can only fall asleep when he’s on facetime with you when he’s away for a game

boyfriend! oikawa who invites you to his practices only to get distracted and end up teaching you how to set and spike a volleyball instead

boyfriend! oikawa who’s kind of a dick to anyone who isn’t you, you constantly have to remind him

‘this isn’t you bae… </3’

boyfriend! oikawa who let you do his skincare one time now he begs you to do it all the time

“pleaseee y/n” he pleads, practically giving you puppy dog eyes while holding his hands together in a begging motion

“why do you want me to do your skincare again? i just did it for you yesterday?” you question “it just feels so much better when you do it for me” he explains

“ok, fine, go grab my products, but after this i’m teaching you how to do it yourself” you say sternly, getting up from your comfortable position and making your way over to your shared bathroom

“roger that” he smiles running ahead of you to the bathroom

boyfriend! oikawa who will carry your purse on his shoulder for you and act so sassy the entire time

boyfriend! oikawa who is a firm believer in princess treatment (he expects princess treatment in return

[cottonlemonade]

Studying With Oikawa

Your hands are laying entwined between you on the table.

As he scans the page for anything useful, your boyfriend begins to absentmindedly caress the back of your hand with his thumb, making you lose your place for the third time in a row.

Missing his right, he uses his teeth to uncap a marker and with great difficulties draws a scraggly line in his workbook.

“Would you maybe like your hand back?”, you ask, watching his struggles, amused.

He frowns theatrically and, tightening his previously loose grip, brings your fingers to his lips, then pulls you closer to him, so you’re locked in.

“Let go, you dork.”, you giggle.

“You know the price, y/n-chan.”, Oikawa says with his signature grin.

You give him a quick peck.

He lifts a brow.

You kiss him again, sweeter this time.

“Hm. Not quite.”

Another kiss, this one even longer.

“Almost there, I think.”

When you lean in now, he brushes the tip of his tongue against your lips.

“Very close.”, he mutters and deepens the kiss, cupping your cheek with the hand that’s still holding the marker.

“There you go.”, he winks when your chubby cheeks turn distinctly pink and lets you scoot back to your initial position - still not letting go of your hand though.