#toru oikawa x you

[literatooru]

𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮

pairing: f!reader x oikawa tōru

warnings: 18+ (NSFW) (MDNI) fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex, squirting, kind of under the influence of alcohol ig? but, like, not really (more sober than drunk), overstim

You both stumble into the apartment, giggling like children excited about sharing a secret only the two of you know. Oikawa’s lips are on yours as soon as you step inside, not even bothering to lock the door as he presses you against the wooden surface. His kiss is insistent as he traces your lips with his tongue to require access, which you gladly grant him. He moans mid-kiss, shrugging his jacket off and unbuttoning your blouse with fumbling fingers. He seems to be having a bit of trouble with the few last ones.

“Ah, screw it,” he says, ripping the garment open, the buttons flying in every direction.

“Tōru!” you huff, tossing the useless fabric to the side.

“I’ll buy you another one,” he says, attacking your collarbone with hungry lips.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging lightly to get a soft moan out of him, and you gasp when he gives a harsh suck on your skin.

“You always say that, but you keep breaking them.”

He snorts against your neck, pulling back to look at you with bright eyes. His cheeks are tinged a soft shade of pink, his hair is all over the place and there’s a big, simpering grin on his lips. He’s definitely tipsy, although not one hundred percent drunk. Let’s say he’s simply in a happy, bubbly mood — and you are too, which is why you can’t help but laugh at the silly expression on his face.

“Sorry,” he says with a chuckle, pulling you back in for another messy kiss and whispering against your lips, “I’m just a little desperate. Always am when it comes to you.”

It’s true, but that’s how it’s always been. He can never wait to kiss you, have his hands on you, hold you. He loves being with you, and discovering new thing about you — he loves you. Don’t ever tell him to hold back, because that’s just something impossible for him when you’re involved.

You curl your arms around his neck and chuckle when he starts walking, pulling you along toward the kitchen, since it’s the closest place with a firm surface. You both let out silly laughs, discarding pieces of clothing along the way. You laugh especially hard when Oikawa almost trips trying to get rid of his jeans, letting out a soft curse and a sheepish chuckle.

He hoists you up to sit you on the countertop, unclasping your bra and diving his head to wrap his eager mouth around one of your pebbled nipples. You arch your back and hold the back of his head to press him even closer to you, moaning. Then, you give a surprised yelp when he gives a way too enthusiastic nip.

“Someone’s excited,” you say, pushing his head back.

“Sorry,” he repeats with a soft giggle, biting his lip as his hand glides down your body until it finds its way between your legs. Your lips part open with a soft gasp when he draws teasing circles with the tips of his fingers over your underwear, and you curl your fingers around the border of the countertop. “Fuck, you’re so gorgeous,” he breathes out, placing his free hand on the nape of your neck to bring your face closer to his.

The kiss grows heated with each passing second, and the movements of his fingers become faster and more precise. He pays close attention to the soft moans you let out against his mouth, the noises making blood rush straight to his cock. He hooks his thumb to pull your panties aside. It's easy for him to push two fingers past your entrance what with how wet you are for him, eager and ready, and he starts working you slowly, his fingers curling in a come hither motion deep inside you. You press your balled up fists against his chest, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, soft mewls and gasps falling off your lips as you buck your hips against his hand.

“Tōru…”

“Feels good, cutie?” he whispers, using the heel of his palm to stimulate your clit.

You only manage to nod, scattering open-mouthed kisses on his chest, biting gently on the his smooth skin every now and then. He pumps his fingers in and out of you slowly, cursing when he feels you clenching around his digits, and the only thing he can think about is how much he wants to be balls deep inside you, filling you up to the brim. He’s torn between finally giving in and teasing you just a tad longer, but he’d much rather focus on you, so he tugs on your panties to get them out of the way.

With a sufficient grin on his face, he drops down on his knees and parts your legs open with gentle hands, licking his lips hungrily, eyes never wavering from your glistening folds. He watches in awe how you clench around thin air when he moves his face closer and blows lightly on you, chuckling when he notices your knuckles have turned white around the countertop.

“There’s my pretty girl,” he murmurs, running a teasing finger between your folds. You whimper, hips bucking up on instinct, chasing his finger when he withdraws it. He licks his lips once more as though he’s just been presented with the most delicious dish on earth, and in a second his mouth is on you. He laps at your arousal, gathering your slick on his tongue and swirling it around the area to savor it, humming in delight with his face buried between your legs. He groans even louder when you pull on his hair, rolling your hips against his face as the most sinful sounds leave your lips. “Fuck, taste so good. My sweet, sweet girl.”

“Tōru, I want you,” you breathe out, panting heavily.

He smirks against you, holding your thighs in place.

“Mm, let me have my fun first, won’t you?” he says, looking up at you from between your legs just as he lashes his tongue against your clit.

He loves seeing how your brows scrunch up when wraps his lips around your nub and sucks, how you arch your back and your mouth falls open to let out the most delicious sounds when he licks a long strip along your pussy, from the bottom to the top, slowly making out with it afterward, his nose bumping against your bundle of nerves with each lick. Your legs tremble as you squeeze his head between them, and you curse loudly when he pushes his tongue past your entrance, his low groan reverberating against your skin.

“Shit— Tōru! Feels so good… so good,” you babble, clapping a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from being to loud, but he’s not having any of that. He brushes his glossy lips against you, shooting you a disapproving look. “Please,” you beg, your voice muffled behind your hand.

He reaches out to grab your arm and pulls it down, placing your hand on top of his head instead, encouraging you to bury it in his hair and pull as hard as you wish.

“You’re not cumming unless I can hear you,” he says, happily moving his lips against you once more. He smiles when your fingers curl around his thick, dark brown locks, and you pull so hard that it’s just a little bit painful, but he enjoys it nonetheless.

Your moans only get louder and louder with each stroke of his tongue, and you squirm under his grasp when he adds his fingers. You’re a babbling mess, whimpering and mewling obscenely, struggling to keep it together — which is something you can’t do when Tōru Oikawa is between your legs.

He doesn’t stop until you’re crying out his name, eyes squeezed shut as your first orgasm hits you with the force of a train, his name on your breath like a prayer. You struggle to catch your breath, but he doesn’t give you enough time to do it, already getting to his feet, his underwear dropping to pool around his ankles.

He’s throbbing with desire and need, painfully hard, his cockhead oozing thick drops of pre-cum that slide down his tip. He doesn’t waste a second to align himself with your entrance, pushing the tip in before slowly sinking into you inch by inch. He watches as you suck him right in, your spasming walls clamping down on him viciously, and he curses loudly and digs his fingers into your thighs, desperate for something to hold on to. Your sweet moan is swallowed down his throat, he’s trying to stifle his own desperate groans against your lips, although his attempt proves futile. There’s just something about being inside you that always seems to awaken something in him. He goes feral, can’t hold back when your warm, tight walls are wrapped around him.

Oikawa’s quick to set a pace that has you trembling in his arms, and a series of animalistic groans and moans spill from his lips. He whispers so many things in your ear, how good you feel, how well you take him, how he can feel you squeezing every single inch of him. His eyes are impossibly dark, lips are swollen and a dark shade of pink as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, peppering your soft flesh with gentle kisses that are a big contrast to his thrusts. He’s going fast, hard, and deep, each snap of his hips echoing in the silent kitchen, which is only filled with the sounds of your skins slapping against each other's and the wet squelching of your pussy sucking him in. Your gasps and moans sound so damn erotic to him, and his hips stutter when you clamp down on him.

He holds your waist with firm hands, pulling you toward him until you’re sitting right on the edge of the countertop as he plunges into you. He lets out soft growls and breathes out your name. Oikawa pulls back slightly to take a good look at you, and finds himself breathless. There you are, head lolled back, closed eyes and parted lips. Despite the place being consumed by darkness, he has a clear view of you, the soft shine of the moonlight washing your face and reflecting in your eyes when you open them to give him the most besotted look, and his heart swells in his chest. His pace slows down a little, rolling his hips in a way that reminds you of waves washing up against the shore at the beach.

He strokes your cheek with his knuckles, cupping it afterward and pressing his lips against your forehead. He then lowers his head to meet your lips in a much softer, gentler, velvety kiss that leaves you breathless, and he holds you as close to him as humanly possible, almost like he wants to fuse with you. His hands are warm on your skin, and they make you feel safe, something that only he could ever manage.

“You’re so fucking addictive… like a damn drug,” he groans, dipping his head to shower your chest with light kisses. “I just can’t get enough of you— fuck.” You wrap your legs tightly around his waist, moaning and holding onto him for dear life. It’s astounding how good he can make you feel, and your body shows it. “You feel so good, squeezing me so tight— ngh,” you clench around him once again, and his fingers flex into your skin, his lips pressed against your shoulder as you tug on his damp hair. “You like it when I talk to you? You like it when I tell you how good your cute little pussy feels around my cock?” he asks, a teasing note in his voice that quickly evaporates when you clamp down on him even harder than before. “Oh, you do. You fucking love it, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Tōru,” you gasp, clawing at his back. “You’re so deep!”

“Ah, fuck.” His moan comes out a little more high-pitched, and he whimpers softly, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, holding your head against him. “S-ay my name again.”

And you do, and he simply loses himself in you. He feels drunk, absolutely plastered, but not because of the alcohol he had been drinking — but because of you. Your scent invades all of his senses, and his mind grows cloudy because all he can see, hear, taste, and feel is you. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Tōru… Tōru I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna—”

“Go ahead baby, I gotcha. Want you to cream all over my cock.”

“T-touch me… please, ah—”

He snakes a hand between your bodies, deft fingers finding your small bundle of nerves. He uses his fingers to rub on it, your jaw dropping in a silent scream as he touches you.

“Right here? Feels good?”

“God, yes! Yes, yes— fuck!” You scream out his name —among other incoherent things that he doesn’t quite catch, although he gets the general idea—, and your vision becomes blurry with unshed tears of overstimulation, but his fingers never stop. “I’m cumming… Tōru, I’m cumming, I’m—!”

You don’t get to finish your sentence, because suddenly clear liquid is gushing out of you and showering his abdomen, and you cry out in ecstasy as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. Oikawa lets out and embarrassingly loud, wanton whimper that makes your stomach twist, the sound extremely lewd coming from his lips.

“Holy fuck, did I make you feel that good, pretty girl? Squirting all over my cock like that, shit.” His hips stutter for a moment, his heavy breathing hitting your shoulder when he dips his head, eyes slightly shut. “I’m so close… s’close. Wanna fill you up with my cum.”

“Please, please,” you gasp, riding out your orgasm with slow rolls of your hips, and you shiver in delight.

It’s the simple sight of you that drives him over the edge — a sight he wants to imprint in his eyelids forever. Oikawa dissolves into pleasure, a scalding sensation pooling low in his abdomen as mouth falls open, and he presses it against your shoulder to stifle his obscene whines, his abdomen spasming with each hot rope of cum he spurts out deep inside you, thrusting slowly until you’ve milked every last drop he has to offer, and soft breaths of your name escape his lips like a broken record.

He stays still for a second, enjoying the way you trail your fingers along his glistening back, drawing imaginary shapes on his skin. He kisses your neck and shoulder before pulling out, letting out a soft hiss as his softening cock slides out of you. It takes him a good minute to catch his breath.

He looks up, a drunken smile on his lips, though he’s all sobered up now. You’re just so intoxicating, he could spend every single second of the rest of his days with you, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

[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

[ya9amicide]

♡ anime masterlist ♡

pov: your camera roll if you were dating toru oikawa.

[simplyvyn]

── .✦ GOOD GAME !

Your boyfriend just won an importang match. In a huge stadium, with lots of people watching. Not just in the stadium. This game was probably in hundreds of tvs outside or inside of a home. Kids, adults, teenagers watching. And your boyfriend just won the last match. At least your secret boyfriend.

After a bit of celebration with his teammates, thanking the people who are cheering for them and some awardings or a speech with their coach he immediately ran to you.

You were there watching him win, watching him score every point or defend every attack from their opponent. Your hands was laying on the railings. He was on the other side. On the court/field.

You raised your hand, offering him a high five. Even if their were still a hundred or even thousands of people. He still ran to you. His secret lover. "Congrats. That was a good game." He responded to your high five his hand on top of yours but then he pulled you, and then kissed you on the lips. Infront of all the people. You swore you heard alot of camera flash, screams and gasp's.

I thought you two were supposed to go soft launch?

⤷kageyama, hinata, YAMAGUCHI, kuroo, kenma, OIKAWA, iwaizumi, BOKUTO, AKAASHI, atsumu (HQ) isagi, bachira, rin, SAE, nagi, REO, CHIGIRI, karasu, otoya, shidou, aiku (BLLK) + ur favs !

Note: sorry guys i felt a lil silly😋

[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")

[ventismacchiato]

OIKAWA BREAKING YOU UP

oikawa tooru x gender neutral reader

you, a semi popular youtuber, meet oikawa at one of his games and he says ily after you scream it at him during an interview. you send the video to your current bf, who gets jealous and doesn’t take it well and ends up breaking up with you. after it goes viral on stantwt oikawa reaches out.

notes: ok i haven’t read the manga, so pls don’t come at me if i get any details wrong 😓 based on the yeonjun situation lmfao. takes place after high school u guys are twentyish. also i know i said peg it in the 27th slide i hope that’s still gn T-T

notes — bye i wrote this in a day the haikyuu obsession is back why r we back in 2020 😭 also ignore the ! in some of the tweet dns i forgot to edit them out and i’m lazy it’s so all the fan users are at the top of my app

[tvhsleb3ww]

HUSBAND OIKAWA HCS OMAGHAUSHSHD

husb!oikawa who helps you do the taxes and puts his glasses on and brings a calculator only for him to get bored after 20 minutes and whines when you don't give him attention

husb!oikawa who is your plus one to any events your office is doing and your female coworkers gawking over him only for him to show off his ring before wrapping an arm around your waist, swiftly saying "i'm taken, ladies" with a smug smirk

husb!oikawa who panics and screams whenever he thinks he lost his wedding ring bc he can't wear it in games!

husb!oikawa who ties the ring to a necklace so he can wear it during games, he'll also give the ring a kiss before any serve

husb!oikawa who watches horror movies w you, expecting for you to hide your face in his chest from the jumpscares and he can act all tough and cool by protecting you from said jumpscares— only for him to be the one hiding in the crook of your neck when watching them

husb!oikawa who picks you up from the bar that you and your coworkers went to bc he doesn't trust anyone on returning you home when you're drunk as a sailor

husb!oikawa who makes hangover seaweed soup along with some hot chocolate when you wake up all lightheaded bc of the drinks you had and nags you for drinking too much

husb!oikawa who will reserve you a VIP seat for his games and will shamelessly kiss you in front of the whole crowd, he could also shamelessly make out w you too but that would earn him a smack

husb!oikawa who gets upset when you can't go with him to his overseas games because of your work, muttering a "you can be a housewife instead, yknow!! I'll be the source of income!!" which he got smacked for because you didn't work your ass for a degree just to be a housewife

husb!oikawa who'd act all tough and nonchalant when both of you have a fight and he's lying on the couch with crossed arms but in reality he's thinking about the fight and he hates getting into arguements with you

husb!oikawa who will beg you to listen to his explanation bc he doesn't wanna go to sleep with you being mad at him

husb!oikawa who just grins and wiggles his eyebrows at you whenever your parents start asking for grandchildren when you both come over to visit

husb!oikawa who will not show up to work if you're sick and will take care of you

husb!oikawa who whines when his mother and his older sister treats you like their own family to the point they forget about him (he's actually happy that the important women in his life get along)

husb!oikawa who has an ID photo of you in his wallet and has a polaroid of both of you on your wedding day in his clear phone case

husb!oikawa who comments on ALL your instagram posts and shares it on his story. he will also reply to every men in the comments section that dares to flirt with you

husb!oikawa who always has a hand on one of your boobs when he's sleeping because he says it's comfy! (he just wants to feel something soft)

husb!oikawa who spoils you rotten and sends bouquets to your office on a weekly basis

THATS ALL FOR NOW KEKE

[satoruxx]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and then he tells you no.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

it is difficult until it isn't anymore.

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

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

one step forward, ten steps back.

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

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

another surge of panic. the familiar sting of humiliation.

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

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

it was a lifetime ago—it's done now.

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

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

@teddybeartoji this is for you mickey ily hehehehehe

[kitasuno]

i'll keep every promise (if it's a promise with you) | oikawa tooru x reader

oikawa tooru has a bad habit of breaking promises and running from his first love. or: the four times oikawa breaks his promises and the one time he keeps one

( a / n ) - oh my god this is my magnum opus... my baby.. its a little bit of angst and a little bit of fluff and a little slice of life. u go through ages 6 to 28 LMFAO. iwaizumi + you + oikawa were such a fun trio to write for and i hope u guys enjoy !!

gn! reader | 2k words | happy birthday OIKAWA

Oikawa Tooru has a guilty conscience and a bad habit of breaking his promises. 

For every promise made and every promise broken, Tooru repents: 200 yen slid in a saisen-bako, a ninety degree bow, two wishes at a shrine. An offering to counter every promise he breaks, ample water to wash away his sins, and apologies written on wood.

 ( Iwaizumi has made the grand suggestion of: Maybe not breaking your promises? on several occasions, but Tooru can’t help it. ) 

He’s broken four promises and made eight wishes so far: four on blue Tanzaku and four atop Ema boards, followed with a prayer and an offering if the promise broken was particularly heinous or particularly his fault. 

He breaks his first promise at six years old– one made with you and Iwaizumi when the three of you were four and freshly neighbors. It was Tooru’s birthday, and he had promised this: 

I swear that I will take us all to the Ryokan before I turn six.

It’s a small promise: one that neither you nor Hajime had expected him to follow through with. But Tooru believed it, and Tooru had tried. He takes every single chore and odd job in the Oikawa household, scraping together a two-year-old Ryokan trust fund with mismatched coins and crumpled bills. He saves his allowances and puts everything in a glass jar next to his bed, and dreams.

Two Julys pass. Oikawa blows out four candles and then five, the jar gets bigger, you start Elementary school, and you and Hajime forget about the Ryokan. And then, on the third July, when Tooru turns six, you and Iwaizumi find Tooru mumbling about a broken promise— courtesy of his failure to take the three of you on an all inclusive trip to that Snow Monkey Ryokan that Iwaizumi wanted to go to. 

So he apologizes through prayers at a shrine and two wishes under a red Torii gate. It’s a thirty five stair climb to the neighborhood shrine: Hajime and Tooru race up and you come last, but the view is gorgeous and Tooru feels considerably less guilty.

It is 100 yen for each wish on a colored paper strip. Hajime says they’re called Tanzaku. Hajime drops one coin, Tooru drops four, you drop two. Seven thunks, four wishes. 

Tooru gets the honor of tying your tanzaku on bamboo branches as the tallest of your trio, and with it, the honor of reading your wishes.

Iwaizumi’s wish is messy and scrawled on bright red— Tooru tells him to Please work on your handwriting, but it’s legible and all well wishes for volleyball and you and Oikawa and cicadas.

Tooru’s got two wishes— a cyan one and a turquoise one, but he only lets you and Hajime read the cyan one. His cyan one is a little neater than Iwaizumi’s and reads:

Sorry I couldn’t take us to the Monkey Ryokan. 

He hangs the red one on his tippy-toes. Cyan next. Hajime cheers a little when Tooru hangs turquoise next to your pink one, and then asks: 

“Whaddya need two wishes for anyways?” 

He shrugs. 

“Guilty conscience, maybe?”

You’re thirteen when Tooru promises that he is going to ask you out in two years. Tooru is not allowed to date until he’s in high school, so he tells you under a blanket of stars that when the two of you are a little older, he will ask you out properly and maybe take you on a date. 

He walks you to school every morning. Hajime comes too, but the pink skies before the sun rises are for you and Tooru. Moments before you make it to Iwaizumi’s block are moments that Tooru gives you his scarf, and then his gloves, and when the wind bites at your cheeks too hard his jacket is draped over your shoulders. On rainy days, Tooru holds the umbrella and laughs as your fingers brush and your cheeks flush. Some mornings he brings you toast: and tells you in hushed whispers to eat it before Iwa-Chan sees. 

Oikawa and Iwaizumi walk you home after cram school and volleyball practice. Hajime’s house is first— so Iwaizumi bows first, heads back inside first, waves goodnight first. When the door closes and the light turns on, the black sky and twinkling stars are for you and Tooru. He always says Good Night saccharine sweet with a smile like the sun that makes you feel like you really can’t wait to turn fifteen. 

Oikawa blows out fourteen candles. The three of you graduate in blue and walk home like usual. Summer passes, another July goes by, Oikawa blows out fifteen candles, and high school starts.

You learn several things in your first year at high school: you really like the student council, Hajime is actually pretty smart, and Tooru is afraid of commitment. 

Tooru is popular: he is athletic and tall and the Volleyball Club’s golden first year. He smiles at the girls in his class, he slings arms around their shoulders, he winks when he passes by the student council room, and he preens a little and shines a lot.

Oikawa is fifteen when he goes on his first date with a girl from another school: and when he tells you and Iwaizumi after he gets home, he plays dumb as Hajime gives him a look and takes you home, overhearing Iwaizumi’s apologies and your crestfallen voice as you say something about a promise.

Oikawa’s chest hurts that night so he walks to the shrine with 200 yen in his pocket and a sorry scrawled on two pieces of colored Tanzaku. 

Oikawa turns sixteen and goes to the shrine again. 

This time, it’s a broken promise with a girl in his class. She was popular– she smelled like cotton candy and reminded Tooru of strawberries and daisies, so when she asked Tooru out, he had said Sure, and he had smiled like she was the sun. 

But he’s a bad boyfriend– a terrible boyfriend– because he’s only there when it’s convenient and he ditches her for volleyball practice and maybe sometimes he catches himself thinking about a certain childhood friend when she holds his hand and buys him milk bread at lunch. 

She was sweet and she was terribly pretty, but he doesn’t feel anything when she kisses him or when she rests her head on his shoulder.

Iwaizumi asks him what he’s running from after practice one day. Tooru knows Iwaizumi is asking why he is running from you. 

Tooru is a little scared of how you make him feel too much. Oikawa likes being in control and Oikawa likes stability, so when he realizes that his heart thumps erratically whenever you’re around and he finds himself all consumed with thoughts of you and a burning desire to please you; he rejects and refrains. And runs.

His girlfriend dumps him after a few months. Tooru says sorry, removes her phone contact, and faintly remembers a promise he made with her four weeks ago. 

I swear I’m not in love with someone else. 

from: tooru (23:20) shrine time!!! ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶

from: hajime (23:21) You broke another promise?? Ur a piece of shit lol

from: tooru (23:22) iwaaa chan U￣ｰ￣U  ur so mean !

from: you (23:24) bro . don’t tell me it was about ur ex ur a manwhore !!!!

from: hajime (23:25) Average Shittykawa moment

from: tooru (23:25) i can’t help it !! (✿ ♥‿♥)  everyone wants a piece of me !!! ill pick u guys up and we’ll go to the shrine and ramen after plsss ☆

from: hajime (23:26) Ur treat?

from: tooru (23:27) iwa-chan’s treat !! i’m going through a nasty breakup, remember ? \_( ◉ 3 ◉ )_/¯

from: you (23:29) hajime we know his address we can burn his room down

from: tooru (23:30) OK FINE my treat! it’s on me!!! everyone say thank you tooru !!!

from: hajime (23:31) thank you tooooruuu chan (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

tooru and y/n reacted with: Scared !

from: tooru (23:32) um please don’t do that ever again

Oikawa’s fourth promise is one to himself and one to Seijoh. 

We will make it to Nationals. 

He doesn’t leave his room for a week when he breaks it. He’s inconsolable. He says he’s sick: he’s got a bad fever, it’s contagious, he’s bedridden, he’s fine. But the lights are never on in his room, his curtains are always drawn, and you know that Tooru devoted everything for a chance and a dream and a volleyball. 

He comes to you first. He’s standing in your doorway and there are bags under his eyes and he says, Hi, and then, I’m fine. He tries for a smile— and then you give him a look, and suddenly he’s in your arms and sobbing. 

He cries for two hours. Tooru ugly cries– his chest racks when he sobs and his arms are tight around you and digging into your back. Oikawa Tooru is not weak: but he is not a prodigy.  

He falls asleep in your bed with his head in your lap and your hands in his hair, but his eyebrows are furrowed and he’s shifting a lot and he’s probably having a nightmare. You call Hajime before gently shaking Tooru awake. 

He blinks up at you— all puffy eyes and tousled hair and swollen cheeks, but he sees you and he softens.

“Wanna go to the shrine?”

Iwaizumi still grumbles the whole way up the thirty five steps, but he’s quiet as Oikawa slips two coins into the saizen-bako. Hajime wraps an arm around your shoulder as the coins rattle in the box and you know he’s upset too— his hands are slightly shaking and he keeps sniffing. Nationals might have been Oikawa’s dream but Iwaizumi was also a dreamer, and sure, Oikawa was going to go, but they were going to go together.

Tooru hangs two Ema boards and for the first time, he bows at the Honden. Two claps. Head down and hands together as he prays. Iwaizumi joins him: and you watch as Oikawa apologizes to him and Hajime shakes his head- because it was Hajime’s promise too. 

Oikawa is twenty-eight and on a plane when he finally keeps his first promise. 

It’s a small promise: but a promise nonetheless, one that he made before he left for Argentina. He tells you he loves you at the airport but he has his boarding pass in one hand and his passport in the other. And you tell him you love him too, but also that he’s being unfair, and no you won’t go out with him. And Oikawa knew you would say that, but he still finds himself making a promise– a promise you laugh at because Oikawa Tooru never keeps his promises.

If we’re still single in ten years, I’m going to find you, and I’m going to ask you out. 

You cry, and Tooru wraps his arms around you and cries too— and then Iwaizumi’s there, and Iwaizumi’s crying, and you don’t know which part of you is Oikawa or Iwaizumi. Oikawa leaves for Argentina with a heavy heart but a hunger for the future. 

In the ten years that pass he plays a lot of volleyball. He tans a lot. He learns some Spanish. He tries beach volleyball. And then, he buys a plane ticket on his birthday. 

from: y/n (21:12) happy birthday tooru !! me n hajime r having an honorary drink for u. hope ur having fun in argentina!!! hajime and i say te amo !!!!

from: tooru (21:15) i’d like a hot sake plssss thank u!!! ( ˙���˙ )

from: y/n (21:15) LMFAO. no. me and haji r drinking ASAHI DRRRRRRYYYYYYYY for u bro also hajime got BUFF wat the hell hope ur tanning good in argentina 

from: tooru (21:16) well tell BUFF iwa chan that ill be there in 5 and i want a HOT SAKE and also YES i tanned good SO EYES OFF IWAIZUMI

from: y/n (21:17) ? what? ur funny lol … TOORU?

Tooru is twenty eight and might retire soon. Thirty five stairs is too many to climb and keeping promises is far more fun than breaking them. So he taps your shoulder, hands Iwaizumi your bouquet, and takes your cheeks in his palms to tilt your chin over. 

“Hi!” He says. 

 Tooru bends down to kiss you. 

[noosayog]

baby fever ft. oikawa toru

wc: 300

iwaizumi | ushijima | atsumu | osamu | sakusa | kageyama

--

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

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

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

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

It’s instant. 

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

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

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

“She knocked out?” 

“Mmph…” he grunts. 

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

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

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

“I said, we should make another one.” 

“Toru… I thought we agreed that-”

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

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

“Ok, hear me out, though” 

“... Okay…” you say warily. 

He takes a deep breath. 

“Please please please please please-” 

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

[izuqi]

pure hatred was almost the right word to describe you and oikawa's relationship. no matter how much you guys 'hated' each other, the sex was too good to ever leave him alone.

"fuck- you oikawa." you hissed, sinking down onto his length. the feeling is so heavenly, oikawa wishes you two could just get along for once, but, obviously not. "yeah yeah i know, just shut up." he breathes out, throwing his head back into the headrest. fuck, it's so messed up that someone who hates you sosososo much, and vice versa can make you feel so fucking good. the feeling is ethereal, the feeling of his cock dragging in and out of cunt shouldn't even be possible, it's like his cock was made for you. it makes you wish it was literally anyone else you had this weird chemistry with.

the feeling is addicting. desperate for more of him, you roll your hips harder against his. "fuck y/n." he groans. he slightly scoots down in the seat and gets a better grip on your ass so his hips can meet yours halfway. the pleasure is unreal. "ah-oikawa, mhm, your cock is so good— feels s'good." you can hear him chuckle alittle before picking up his pace, going deeper.

literally there is nothing else in your head except for the feeling of the plunging of his cock inside of you.

he's fucking you dumb, so dumb. you can't even think of a reason to hate him right now.

[tiza0925]

Drink it All | 18+

Warning/Tags: nsfw, afab/female reader, intoxicated/drugged sex (consensual), praise kink, pet names, teasing, vaginal fingering, degradation kink, multiple orgasms, dumbification, overstimulation, squirting, finger sucking, mating press, creampie, raw sex, Oikawa is great with aftercare though, SET IN A TIMELINE WHERE ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED-UP AND OVER 18 

Pairing: Oikawa Tooru x Female Reader

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

“All of it, love.” 

You listen, tipping your head back as you lift the cup, your mouth open and throat working with a swallow as the liquid pours into your mouth. 

You feel your heart racing with nerves, your chest rising and falling rapidly, unsure how your body will react to this. 

But Oikawa said you’ll be okay. 

And you trust him. 

When you let out a wet gasp after swallowing the entire drink, you tip your chin back down to look at Oikawa—vision a little foggy, and your eyes feel hot and wet. 

“Good girl,” His smile is serene, syrupy, and slow, and he reaches with one hand to take the cup from you, while his other hand tucks a few strands of hair behind your ear. “You always listen so well for me.” 

If this was with anyone else—you would’ve never agreed to this. 

Drinking an unknown liquid—because they asked you to—is fucking insane. 

But this is Oikawa—someone you’ve been dating for years, now. 

And he’s never given you a reason to not trust him—hence, the reason why you’re in this position, to begin with. 

Sitting on the bed, back against the bed frame with your legs—that are exposed except for your panties still on—sprawled out in front of you, and he sits in between those spread-out legs, easing you as the liquid takes over your senses. 

Your eyelids are starting to feel heavy, your mind slowly being stuffed with cotton, and you blink slowly—feeling the liquid travel and spread heat across your body and between your legs, and you murmur while getting a little drowsy, “Feels weird.” 

The expression on Oikawa’s face is soft and affectionate, and his hand moves to swipe a thumb over your plush lips. “I know, baby, you must feel all fuzzy in the head now, hm?” 

You nod, your limbs feeling heavy, and Oikawa runs his hands—they’re so rough but warm and heavy—up along your legs, squeezing your thighs as he soothes you. “You’re okay.” 

He must’ve noticed how you try to fight whatever drug was in that drink, or maybe he noticed how tense your legs are as he massages them, his voice coming out velvety and smooth. “Don’t fight it, love, it’s okay.” 

You let out a small whine—you’re not used to feeling your body lose control like this. 

“Just keep your legs open for me,” He murmurs, pulling at your panties to peel it off of you. “I’ll make you feel good, okay? No need to be scared, baby.” 

Your breathing quickens, and you feel your cunt throb as cold air fans against it once Oikawa takes your panties off—

“Shit, look at you,” Oikawa groans, brushing the tips of his fingers over your slit. “Such a pretty thing for me.” 

You don’t realize just how wet you already are—your entire body is quickly turning numb—but you do hear the wet sounds Oikawa’s fingers make as it toys with your pussy. 

“It’s so messy already,” He lifts his head to look at you, and a lopsided smile tugs at his mouth. “You that eager for me to use you, baby?” 

You shiver, unable to respond with how heavy your tongue feels in your mouth, only being able to let out silent moans—mouth opened—heavily panting and gasping. 

Oikawa chuckles, all low, and one hand grips your chin in a firm hold—directing you to look down between your legs where his other hand is. “See how wet you are?” 

As he says that, Oikawa pushes his middle finger inside you until the last knuckle, and you let out a whine as you watch how easily his finger sinks in.

God—you feel so achy, especially in your cunt. 

“Look at you sucking me in,” Oikawa keeps his hand on your chin, and you watch the way his finger drags in and out of you—the inside of his palm opened and facing you—the muscles in his hand working as he continuously curls his finger inside you. “Such a needy pussy, love.” 

You let out a whimper, sounding a little frustrated because you can’t feel anything with just one finger, and your fingers dig into the sheets beneath you as you mutter slowly, “Tooru…I—”

“You need more?” He already knows without needing you to say it, not with how needy your voice sounds—spurring him on as he gives your chin a gentle squeeze before letting go. “Those drugs already got you all numb that you can’t feel anything, hm, baby?” 

You nod, and your suck in a sharp breath when two more fingers join his middle—pushing all three inside your greedy cunt—and your eyes roll back when you finally feel a delicious stretch inside you, and the base of your head lolls back to lean against the bed frame. 

“That feel good?” 

You gulp, your voice breathy. “Y-yeah—”

But then you gasp, and your words bleed into a moan when Oikawa presses his thumb on your puffy little clit. 

“Can you cum for me, princess?” You whine, feeling yourself tighten around his fingers when he calls you that, and you close your eyes—feeling the drugs fully kick in and you’re too weak and numb to even move your head anymore. 

But you trust Oikawa to take good care of you—because he never hurt you. 

So you let go, feeling him stretch your pussy with his fingers while rubbing your clit to a throbbing orgasm. 

All you hear are his words praising you, telling you how much of a good girl you are and how pretty you look cumming on his fingers. 

But then—

But then soon after, you feel empty, and you manage to look down with a frown, only to see Oikawa pulling his fingers out—leaking with your juices—leaving your swollen pussy pulsing around nothing.

And he must’ve noticed the little pout you have on because he chuckles—leaning in to give your pouty lips a sweet kiss and murmurs against them. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll fill you up again just the way you like it, okay?” 

You sloppily kiss back—too slow and loopy to respond—and you make a small sound as Oikawa moves you to lay down on your back, feeling your body sink into the plush bed while he lifts your legs. 

Then you feel him guiding your legs over his shoulders, and something hot and heavy slides over your pussy. 

“You just need to look pretty for me,” Oikawa murmurs, voice also getting breathy, and he turns to give your calf a warm kiss, continuing to rock his hips to slide his cock over your leaking folds—making his balls hit your puffy lips. 

He does that, making your pussy drool all over his length as his pre-cum leaks over your tummy, teasing your engorged clit with every bump of his tip against it. 

And all you do is take it, lying there, moaning and panting until his cock finally pushes inside you—filling every inch of your plush walls—and Oikawa groans. 

“Fuck,” He leans down, kissing you because he just needs to, making you lose your mind and moan into the kiss. “So tight, baby, swallowing me like a good little slut for me.” 

And god—you throb around him, your arousal dripping everywhere and making a mess as he continues to sink further inside you until his hips are flushed against yours. 

But you’re too dizzy and muddled to feel the way his fat cock stretches you—how your pussy hugs him and makes him all wet as you cream all over his girth. 

All you feel is this buzzing ache growing stronger and stronger as he sets a pace of fucking you deep and slow—hearing the wet squelches of your pussy to show just how wrecked you are. 

All you feel is something thick lodged into you and choking you as he puts you in a mating press. 

And he fucks you, murmuring how dirty you are, how you take him like a dumb needy slut that always needs her pussy filled. 

All words that are laced with a level of affection where you know he doesn’t genuinely mean it. 

But he knows how much you love hearing it.

And Oikawa is just a caring partner that likes to make you lose it every time he fucks you. 

Even if that means abusing your tight little cunt while you’re brainless and unable to move to do anything about it. 

You whine when pressure is felt on your clit—and Oikawa rubs his thumb in slow circles over your clit, all while his dick thrusts in and out, pulling a trickle of fluid to wet the bed and his legs in the process. 

Soon enough—you’re arching your back, crying out a moan, as another orgasm pulses through you with a sudden snap. 

“There you go—shit—you were made to take me,” Oikawa fucks into you as you cum, gushing out clear fluids as you make a squirting mess on the both of you. 

And fuck—Oikawa loves it when you squirt. 

He loves seeing your face contort with pleasure as you make a mess on him—all because of his doing and his cock inside you. 

“Fuck—you’re so messy, you must feel all loose and dumb, huh, baby?” 

You start to cry, overstimulated from him fucking you through your orgasm, and his thumb hasn’t left your poor little clit.

But you still manage to nod.

And god—Oikawa wants to kiss you senseless at how much he loves you right now. 

“It’s okay, love,” He shushes you, wiping a tear on your cheek with his thumb, your lashes flutter against your cheek as you close your eyes. “I just need to cum, okay?” 

You shiver, only able to mumble out, “Kay.”

You’re fucked dumb by this point, feeling like a rag doll as he holds you and shoves his cock into you with no abandon. 

But he knows how to fuck you to make you cum almost easily—his dick hitting that sweet spot in your walls over and over with every roll of your hips—his balls slapping your sloppy pussy as warmth travels from your core down to your legs, stars shooting beneath your closed eyelids as everything turns white and blurry. 

You think you orgasmed again. 

You can’t tell. 

All you feel is liquid heat filling your bones, a hot and heavy body on top of you, and yourself melting into the bed beneath you. 

“Suck on this,” You don’t know what Oikawa is making you suck on—but your mouth opens anyway, almost instinctively, just from hearing the word ‘suck’ from him.

But then you feel his thumb press on your tongue, and you immediately moan as you wrap your lips around it, sucking it as if it was his cock. 

“Good baby,” Oikawa drawls, voice low and heavy, “your mouth is too sweet to not use it.” 

You just suck some more, letting him hold you down and fuck deep into you until you’re letting out another squirting orgasm—soaking the bed and his stomach—and you hear his groan falter, his pace quickening. 

“You gonna keep all my cum inside you, baby?” He asks that, and you whimper with a nod, giving his thumb a slow suck. 

“W-want it—”

And that’s all he needs to hear to make that final cord in him cut loose, and he’s grinding his hips against yours as he buries his dick as far as he can—spurting out thick loads of cum deep inside you, making your sore pussy drink every drop. 

“Such a good slut for me, baby,” He kisses your lips so gently, lovingly, as the last bits of his sticky cum spill into you—filling you so much that some leaks out while his cock is still inside your cunt. 

You grunt, so fucking exhausted and ready to knock out from whatever the hell Oikawa gave you. 

And he smiles, sweet and affectionate, kissing you one last time before pulling back, his voice soft. “Let me take care of you now, love.” 

And he does. 

With lots of praise and kisses. 

With a warm bath after wiping you clean. 

Even if you feel too dizzy and intoxicated to move properly—Oikawa happily does all the work for you.

He makes sure you drink some water, giving you bits of fruit to eat as well. 

He takes such good care of you after treating you like a fuck toy in bed—

And you smile, all dazed and warm, through it all—your heart feeling so full.

End.

> Masterpost

[tsumuus]

For prompt 2 for your event, could you do that one Leah and Rob sound. "You don't hate me?" "I could never hate you." with Oikawa? tyyyyyyyyyyy

₊✩‧₊˚ toru oikawa + prompt 2 ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ ‘so you don’t hate me’ ‘i could never hate you’ ˚₊✩‧₊

You had always thought you knew Toru Oikawa like the back of your hand. From the days when you first met in middle school, his charisma and infectious energy had drawn you in, and over the years, you had become inseparable. You shared laughter, tears, and countless late-night conversations. So when the sudden shift came—when he started pushing you away, his demeanor growing colder and more distant—it threw you into a whirlwind of confusion.

At first, you thought it was something you had done. Had you unknowingly said something to upset him? Or perhaps your busy schedule had pushed him to the background? The questions buzzed incessantly in your mind, but you couldn't find any answers. Each time you tried to reach out, he seemed to withdraw even further, leaving you feeling lost and adrift.

It was during one of those quiet evenings, when the moonlight streamed through your window, that you finally confronted him. You had just returned from a particularly painful day at school, your heart heavy with the weight of his cold shoulder, and the sight of him at the park, sitting alone on a bench, felt like a last straw.

"Toru," you said, your voice trembling slightly, "what's going on? Why have you been pushing me away? Did I do something wrong?"

He looked up at you, his eyes softening as if he was seeing you for the first time in weeks. He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair in frustration. The usual charm and confidence that he wore like a second skin seemed to be stripped away, revealing a vulnerability you rarely saw.

"I've been an idiot," he admitted, his voice low and rough. "I didn’t want to hurt you, but I didn’t know how to handle everything I was feeling. It’s like every time I’m with you, I want to spill everything out—everything I’ve been keeping inside—but it scares me. It’s so unnatural for me."

You listened, heart aching, as he continued. “You make me feel things I’ve never felt before, and I don’t know how to explain it. I thought if I distanced myself, it would be easier for both of us.”

You stared at him, processing his words. The silence that followed was thick with unspoken emotions, and the moonlight cast a gentle glow on his troubled face. Slowly, you approached him and took a seat beside him on the bench, your presence offering a silent comfort.

"So you don't hate me?" you asked softly, the fear of losing him gripping your heart.

He turned to look at you, his expression a mixture of relief and regret. "Hate you? I could never hate you," he said, his voice breaking slightly. "The way I’ve been acting, it’s because I care so much. It’s because you mean everything to me."

The tension between you seemed to melt away with his confession. You reached out, taking his hand in yours, feeling the warmth and the sincerity in his touch. His eyes searched yours, and for the first time in weeks, you saw the familiar spark of affection in them.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn’t mean to make you feel like you were the problem. I’ve just been struggling with my own feelings, and I didn’t know how to handle it."

You squeezed his hand gently, offering him a reassuring smile. "It’s okay, Toru. I just needed to know where we stood."

He nodded, his relief palpable. "Thank you for understanding. I promise I’ll work on this. I want to be better for you, and I don’t want to let my own fears ruin what we have."

The night continued with a renewed sense of closeness, the distance that had grown between you now replaced by the understanding and the warmth of a bond that had weathered the storm. As you sat there together, the moon casting its gentle light over you both, you knew that despite the struggles, you were still there for each other. And for the first time in a while, everything felt right again.

a/n RAHHHHHHH i don’t like this but here you go🙏😓

₊✩‧₊˚ 555 follower event ! ˚₊✩‧₊

main masterlist

[katescorner]

thinking about olympic athlete!oikawa tooru today who made it to the paris olympics, representing argentina (proudly, he might add), and his whole story leading up to the games is full of drama and expectations because of course fate would line things up perfectly for the two nations he held in his heart to rival each other on the world's court.

he hears the cheers of fans and friends along with the jeering boos from the locker room, and he thinks, has he really betrayed his birth country when "home" no longer feels like home? with rising pressure, competition tastes like a bitter word when the opposition is all familiar faces. but he didn't make it this far by being sentimental. he trained for this. he sacrificed for this. he—

"the world is watching, tooru."

your voice is soft, but it cuts through the static of his thoughts. it parts his negativity with gentle movement until all he sees is you, and suddenly, he can breathe again. so he does. he draws in a long, deep breath, and you wait for him to speak to you.

"i'm scared," he whispers. "i don't want to disappoint anyone."

his admission is proof alone of how far he's come already, willing to admit insecurity and allowing vulnerability in difficult moments. oikawa tooru is not the same man he was when he left the land he'd known all his life (leaving claw marks into the grass and ground of his hometown; they forget he was only eighteen when he uprooted himself in the name of his passion) and when he let his mother tongue fall flat so he might have a chance at becoming the best (people forget that learning languages isn't some indirect relationship, when one rises, the other does not always fall; he remembers the words he came from, the intonation and the vocabulary, the slang and the meaning of it all; he remembers, still).

oikawa tooru is not the same man he was when his childhood friends saw him last. he's grown in his time apart from them; they all have. he's miles tallers and his horizons have expanded. he's changed, but that doesn't mean he's a stranger to himself.

(i'm scared they won't recognize me.)

"you are still the person they all befriended and the man i fell in love with, and i am so so proud of you," you answer his underlying question with a kiss to his cheek, a reminder of your love. "you aren't disappointing anyone with your decisions."

"but the people of—"

"the people will cope. they'll have to." you shrug. "what else can they do? what you do isn't up to them. it isn't up to the public because the roster that made it all this way and achieved this much lists oikawa tooru, starting setter, not the guy in the eighth row calling you names, not the displeased broadcaster with a combover, and certainly not anyone else."

you take his hands into yours. you're careful because these are the instruments of his success. his fingernails are always cut short and his skin is soft except for the pads of his fingers which are rough but not calloused. he doesn't let anyone else handle him the way you do, drawing circles and hearts into his palms and pressing kisses into his joints.

"as long as you are happy with the decisions you've made to get here, no one can take that away from you." you look into your fiancé's eyes. "are you happy, tooru?"

and he thinks about the uneasiness he felt landing in argentina, the finality in not buying a return ticket, and the eagerness for volleyball that earned him an easy spot under the guidance of jose blanco. he thinks about the sleep that he lost from being hungry in an unfamiliar country, missing his mother's cooking and the smell of yakitori and takoyaki when he walked down crowded streets filled with vendors.

but he also thinks about the first word that he learned in argentina, hermanito, tossed around during practice when he didn't even know how to ask for a pass because he didn't lose a brotherhood when he left japan, he just gained one in argentina. he thinks about the grueling process of overturning his birth citizenship, the uproar he caused in a country across the globe and the apology he almost let slip for it because everyone thinks it was just for volleyball. oikawa tooru, the athlete who doesn't know loyalty, but what do they know of the open arms he received in argentina when japan turned him away?

he thinks of how stress melted from him that first night after receiving his new passport, walking to your shared apartment with his stomach grumbling at the smell of choripán and alfajor as he hummed along to lamento boliviano. he thinks of how joy spilled into him, realizing he was finally home.

so he nods at your question and he draws stuttered hearts into your palms and he presses a kiss to your temple.

(thank you for seeing who i am.)

"i'm happy."

[asunflowerana]

𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐭

summary: usual grocery day with your husband

with: bokuto koutaro, oikawa tooru, sakusa kyoomi and osamu miya.

n/a: brought this one from my old blog, one of my favorites. I'm thinking about making a part 2 with more hq boys, I personally enjoy imagining them dealing with grocery with me 😂. hope you guys enjoy!

⊛ bokuto koutaro

a child inside a full-grow 190cm male body, that's what he is. The fact that he still pouts whenever you remind him that "no, you can't get inside the cart baby, you won't fit" proves the point. But besides his childish mood, he can turn your time shopping a lot funnier.

he does cart races, searches for lower prices like hunting a treasure, throw his hands in the air when he finds his favorite snacks and cackles at every single brand with a silly name. He's a total dork, but his excitement is so endearing that you cannot help but absorb it. It's actually sweet, the way he lightly takes a domestic duty. He's also helpful, willingly carrying the bags to the car, and storing the groceries later at home.

he yearns to stay close to you, so even if his both hands are grabbing the cart handle, at least some arm-brushing will happen. He'll feel pretty lost if you both need to part ways through the market, but it's cute how he beams when you guys find each other later.

favorite section: breakfast food section (he's addicted to cereal), and meat section.

what you usually hear from him: "babe, can we buy this?"

⊛ oikawa tooru

if there's something Tooru doesn't look forward to, is grocery day. He even tried to wipe it off the fridge calendar a few times before, but you're too good to be fooled. "the Santos already ordered by delivery, why can't we do the same?" and he always uses the neighbor's card to try to convince you, whining like his teenager version would.

but one way or another, you always get him to go. If he's in a bad mood, he'll probably sulk in the beginning, lazily riding the cart while sighing every two minutes 'cause this is a total "waste of time". But as the shopping proceeds, he gets used to it, even forgetting what he was so grumpy about when a product catches his attention. With some subtle kisses and a small treat, you can even get a smile out of him. 

He likes to wrap his arm around your back or keep you close by the waist. Not having you there with him it's the worst thing it could happen, so he needs to make sure you stay by his side (also because he simply likes holding you).

favorite section: checkouts (not a surprise), and cosmetics section (he can spend a good amount of time selecting body products).

what you usually hear from him: "are we done?"; "baby, I need your help. This one, or this one?".

⊛ sakusa kiyoomi

He's the one looking forward to this day. He gets uneasy when things run out in the house, so going shopping is almost necessary for his peace of mind. What he doesn't look forward to, though, is dealing with people at the supermarket. Most precisely, the lines, but let's not talk about it to not ruin the mood.

he's very selective, taking whatever time he has to inspect and be sure of the products, in case it isn't a common choice of yours. He appreciates being aware of what you are consuming, not only for being an athlete but because he cares about your health. He likes to share what he's been learning from the team's nutritionist, but he is not a dictator: if you want to treat yourself to some tasty sweets or snacks, he won't get in the way. He'll even join the party.

He'll offer his arm for you to wrap your own, or hold hands. He's grateful to have your company, so he'll cherish it as much as he can. He's also very protective if the place or the lines are too crowned, keeping you by his side and holding you close with his arm.

favorite section: cleaning products (you have no idea how relieved he gets when he goes there).

what you usually hear from him: "I know you want it. Go ahead, put in the cart"; "tsc, they always put the gloves way back there"; "these stupid lines. Again."

⊛ osamu miya

The king of groceries. He's used to doing this two, or three times a week, and it never gets boring. The experience has made him smarter about where and when it is best to buy, plus he has a good eye when it comes to product quality and price. So yeah, you have almost nothing to worry about when Osamu Miya is your grocery partner. Almost.

He's very chill and helpful while shopping, but you better keep a good eye on the cart: it'll get filled to the brim in one minute. When Osamu likes something, he makes a point of buying as much as he can. Once, he filled almost three entire carts, and half of one was just from rice bags. Someone might think you have a whole volleyball team as a family with the amount of food he wants to take home.

Hands on your back, shoulder, waist, any free space he has to keep you close to him – and he'll keep it there the whole time. Touch is one of his love languages, so there's no way he won't keep in contact with you.

favorite section: fruit and vegetables section, and bakery section (he loves the smell of fresh ingredients).

what you usually hear from him: "sweetheart, just one more. It'll be the last, I promise"; "hope Tsum doesn't visit us today"

© asunflowerana 2024 — all rights reserved.

[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?