#tōru x reader

[maycat-19-142]

Random thing my hero academia character do

Run up to you in the halls to ask you if you have the homework answers 2 minutes before class because they for got and aizawa with kill them if they miss another assignment

KAMINARI. sero. kirishima. MINA. toru.

Makes you a lunch because you forgot it the day before. It is really good and balanced compared to the cafeteria or what you make for yourself

BAKUGOU. IIDA. Ojiro sato shoij deku

Asked for cuddles in the middle of a study session. You kust had a 30 minute break and on there asking for cuddles

Todoroki [he gives me the vibe] mina sero jiro

F.uck boy flirts with you and it is annoying as all hell

mineta

My most popular posts are my short mha headcannons so hear are more. Have a good day and night🌙

Pixie out 🧚‍♀️

[chimielie]

cw: and they were roommates

oikawa has another date tonight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he looks like a million bucks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what the fuck?”

part 2 here.

[honoredalone]

pretty when you cry

live laugh lana del rey.

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[jello-chennie]

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

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

✧ word count 857

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[fushigurro]

𝗧𝗢𝗢𝗥𝗨 𝗢𝗜𝗞𝗔𝗪𝗔 𝗫 𝗗𝗢𝗠!𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥. ⌇ 18+ only, mdni / reader is a lil mean / there’s one slap / oikawa is a crybaby

he’s left fully nude and exposed while you, completely clothed, hover over him like a cruel, untouchable deity. however, tōru can see the peaks of your nipples through the fabric of your shirt. he wants to suck on them.

you’re hand milks the tip of his cock with graceful twists and squeezes, coaxing needy beads of pre-cum from the swollen head. he quivers and drools beneath your touch, desperate to fuck his length further into your fist.

“say you’re sorry, tōru.” your voice brings him out of a daze, but before he can think to respond, yet another expert twist of your wrist has his eyes wanting to roll back.

“a-ah!” he sucks in a breath and tries to keep from bursting. why are you being so mean to him? he just wants to cum! he deserves to cum!

you bring your hand up to land a smack against his cheek—not hard enough to hurt too badly, but it carries enough sting to draw a whimper from him and demand his attention. “say you’re sorry for acting like a fucking brat and embarrassing me.”

big brown eyes well up with tears fueled by sensitivity and regret. why are you being so mean to him? well… he supposes he could’ve behaved a little better…

“‘m sorry,” he mumbles softly, struggling to swallow his pride and speak through the pleasure.

“what was that?” you ask, dissatisfied with his lack of conviction. you slow your movements down substantially.

“i’m sorry!” he says much louder this time, eager to win your approval.

“for what?”

“for being a brat!”

you offer a genuine smile when you see tears finally fall from his lashes. then, you lean forward and kiss him with all the tenderness you can muster, giving him his first taste of you thus far. tōru sucks in your affection like nourishment.

pulling back, you move your lips up to his forehead. “good boy. you can cum now.”

[satantica]

asking haikyu boys to send hot pics 18+

characters: tsukishima kei, oikawa tooru, akaashi keiji, bokuto koutarou

[sassycheesecake]

Iwaizumi returns to the locker room, after having forgotten his textbooks in his gym locker of the Aoba Johsai volleyball club.

As he enters the club room, he hears a shower running.

Frowning in confusion, he thought that his team members have already left after practice.

"Is anyone still here?" He calls out.

"Uh… yeah, it’s me Iwa-chan." Oikawa, the Setter of Aoba Johsai’s volleyball club answers back.

But his voice sounds a little shaken up, like he is scared or hurt.

"You good? Did you overdo it again after practice? And what are you still doing here? I thought you hated the gym showers." The Ace raises an eyebrow in suspicion and walks towards the shower stall.

The sliding door of the shower opens up a bit and Oikawa partly pops his head out, the shower still running and flattening his usual fluffy brown hair to his head.

Another thing Iwaizumi also notices, is that his best friend is panting a little bit and his cheeks are glowing in a reddish color.

"I uh… have a date… yeah a date! You know, just wanted to smell fresh for them!" The Setter grins awkwardly.

"Uh huh. Well, hurry up I need to lock up. I'll give you two minutes to be out of here."

Oikawa, who looks a bit panicked, quickly glances to his right in the shower before he flinches in pain about something.

"Is it your knee again?"

"Yeah, it’s been bothering me again. A real pain in the ass sometimes. Ouch! Why don’t you leave the keys on the bench? I’ll lock up when I am out." Oikawa offers with a tight smile as he hopes his teammate will do as he says.

Iwaizumi looks at him for a moment, sighing heavily and leaving the keys on the bench. He’s tired and just wants to go home.

"Fine Trashykawa, it better not be messy when we get here tomorrow morning." Stuffing the books in his bag, the spiky-haired brunette leaves without another look back, closing the door behind him.

Oikawa closes the door again and starts giggling like crazy as he stares down at you, who is leaning against the shower wall, equally as wet as your lover.

"A date? Who do you have a date with?" You wrap your arms around his neck and the Setter grins down at you mischievously, pressing wet kisses against your neck.

"Oh, no one you need to worry about. They’re in my health class and sit right behind me. When they lent me their pen three weeks ago, I just had to ask them out. They go by the name (Y/N)." Oikawa leans his forehead against yours, rubbing his nose affectionately against your own.

You lean forward catch his lips with yours and it quickly turns into a heated make-out session again, which was interrupted earlier when Iwaizumi walked in.

The sound of smacking lips echo in the shower, one of Oikawa’s hands is grabbing your neck while the other wanders all over your wet body, grabbing your ass and squeezing it occasionally.

You on the other hand have to stand a bit on your toes to be able to reach him, wrapping your arms around his neck, while your hands scratch a bit against his skull, making the brunette moan in delight.

Later on, when you both exit the shower, Oikawa sees a few missed texts from Iwaizumi.

He sits down on the bench, a towel wrapped around his waist as he unlocks his phone.

And after each text, Oikawa pales a little bit more.

'ANGRY BIRD 🤪'

'Do you really think I am that stupid?!' Sent 16:36

'I know you were having company in that shower. Next time, I am kicking BOTH OF YOU OUT!' Sent 16:37

'AND IN OUR GYM SHOWER OUT OF ALL PLACES???' Sent 16:40

Before he can read the next text though, he feels your head leaning on his shoulder and the Setter smiles at the action.

"Iwa-chan knows that I wasn’t alone in the shower." He snickers and you nearly pass out at what he said.

"WHAT?!"

[loveephia]

:¨ ·.· ¨: ハイキュー!! you as aoba johsai's beautiful manager . . .

`· . ꔫ . . . inarizaki ver. | nekoma ver.

+ shiratorizawa ver. | fukurodani ver.

⚠ warning/s: none.

-🧍‍♀️

- you signed up because iwaizumi hajime is on the team you needed some team building experience

- and the members were kind to you, of course!!

- maybe maddog didn't like you very much.

- you don't know why, but it's okay.

- you'll grow on him one day!!

- sadly, that day is just not today. 😔

- oikawa thought you were a fan of his

- which is not true

- like.

- at all.

- if anything, you were more of a fan of iwaizumi, but moving on

- word got out that you were their manager, and you SWEAR that oikawa's fangirls are plotting something.

- oikawa treated you the same as he does with every other girl, maybe the occasional flirty statement here & there

- but like

- NO.

- YOU DIDN'T WANT THIS!!!!!

- yahaba tried HIS shot on flirting with you using the good ol' toss-and-run, aka the same thing he tried to do with yachi

- you quickly shut him down by running away, absolutely mortified by the expression on his face.

- NO BC SERIOUSLY WHAT IS THIS

- bro's rizz came right outta aot 😭😭😭

- just avoid him like the plague, and you'll be fine

- kunimi is one of the more calmer boys, so you /may/ have unintentionally favored him

- like, you'd refill his water bottle first, you'd fetch his towel first, etc.

- kindaichi gets the job done, but he tends to get lost in his own thoughts

- matsukawa and hanamakki are pretty chill as well,, a joke about oikawa every now and then makes you laugh

- and iwaizumi

- wow, where do you even start

- wou don't know WHY oikawa is the one with a bunch of fans, when his hunk of a best friend is right there

- but it's okay. less competition, am i right lass.

- you do not hide your liking towards iwaizumi.

- "iwaizumi is so cool!" you say with hearts, visibly forming on your eyes

- "are you aware that you're talking to yourself?" kunimi asks with a stoic face

- "very aware."

- iwaizumi messes up his spikes every now and then because he feels you watching him

- YOU'RE JUST. THAT. PRETTY. 😭😭

- he gets all shy whenever you hand him his things because he can see flowers and sparkles all around your face

- "..thanks, y/n."

- "you're welcome, iwa!"

- PARDON??

- WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL HIM.

- "o- oh—! sorry for calling you that. i heard oikawa say it, and well.." you sheepishly apologized. you truly didn't mean it. it completely flew over your head that this was just your first day as their manager.

- "no, it's okay. it was cute." iwaizumi puts a halt to his step.

- ok

- wgat ☺️

- so here you two are, a blushing mess, while the third years watch

- "i bet the entire team some ramen that iwaizumi is the first to get married between him and oikawa." hanamaki says.

- "deal." matsukawa accepts

- "you two are so annoying..!" oikawa cries out

- maybe maddog will grow more accustomed to your presence if you'll be iwaizumi's future wife :p

© lowercase intended | loveephia

[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.

____________________________________________

[kairismess]

❝HIS HEART IS ALL YOURS❞

🏐 genre: fluff ~

✒️ word count: 1,198

💭 summary: it had never dawned on you that the great king of the court, tooru oikawa, would ever have a crush on you: a mere background character in the greater scheme of things. if only you knew just how much he adored you–maybe then you'd realize you're more than a side character in the plot of your (and his) life.

💗 special mention: @moonswolfie for requesting this on my @kairiscorner acc !!

🍧 request: "Beg and you shall recieve, make oikawa fall for the nerd girl😈😈😈"

the concept of being in a relationship was foreign to you. you had never really had a proper relationship with anybody in regards to romance; it was like all and every thought of romance was something you never truly experienced, if you didn't count otome games and dating sims that you always pored over, spent all your time playing and devoting your allowances to new costumes and dialogues from your favorite love interests that made you feel pretty, wanted, and loved.

you never really stood out to anybody, that much you believed was true. you found it hard to see anybody liking you, who avidly wore anime shirts and collected expensive figurines and hung up posters of your favorite game series, cartoons, animes, movies, and shows all over your room. and you don't even wanna bring up the fact that you casually play rpgs whenever you can, wearing the cutest set of headphones that made you stand out in... a rather awkward way–a way you just wish you never got attention from, through stares and stifled chuckles of amusement from others.

you did all you could to ignore the stares, the laughter, the snide comments from girls who thought they were better than you–and you had grown quite used to being alone, to finding solace in games and the internet. and though it wasn't healthy, this was a place you called home; and those characters on your screen that always smiled whenever you chose a good interaction choice, whenever you held them in the right places, they made you feel happy.

but there was another boy who wanted to make you feel happy, a boy who appeared and acted like he came right out of a fairy tale; the male lead in a shoujo manga you never thought you'd live out to be female lead in.

tooru oikawa–the great king of the court, the boy every girl in your year had the hots for. you never really paid that much attention to him because, of course, why would you waste your valuable time and energy on a boy you never knew well, nor would even take an interest in you?

sure, he was your classmate and occasional partner for activities and group works, but his personality always seemed so fake. you knew he was acting like a kind of host boy in a host club, and though you knew guys like that were totally your type, you always kept your guard up around him.

it wasn't like he was going to hurt you, anyway, he was too gallant for that, it seemed. the way a boy like this would only hurt you would be through getting your hopes up that he'd ever like you, and ultimately thank you for being a mere fan and forget your name, maybe laugh about your silly headphones and the way your eyes shone whenever your favorite character called you cute in a dating sim.

but... it was these very qualities that drew oikawa to you.

oikawa had only known you existed for a few months now, since he saw you so often during class as his new seatmate. he knew you weren't anything like the girls that vied for his attention, and it felt like a breath of fresh air for him, not having someone breathe down his neck every few seconds at every little thing he does.

sure, you were a little messy sometimes, a little quiet, a little awkward–a little in your own head most of the time, but it was, in your own unique way, charming. oikawa would instinctively smile to himself whenever you'd get flustered at him asking you for a pencil while you were sneaking to play your otome games on your phone in class, and he'd feel a little proud of you whenever you'd recite in class.

he knew it was hard for you sometimes to show confidence, though he always encouraged you to stand up straight, "you look pretty when you hold your chin up high," he'd always say. of course, you'd sometimes side eye him, and it'd make him a little worried he said something wrong, but it's the fact that you keep oikawa on his toes about how he makes you feel around you that allures him to you even more.

from talking to you during class, he'd bring the conversations outside of class. of course, he'd always carry the conversation while you were trying to beat a really hard boss in your rpgs. he'd cheer you on while he had no idea what was going on–and even the rest of the third years were worried oikawa had some ulterior motives with you, but when they saw how different that usually plastic smile of his was whenever he'd look at you, talk to you, try to get closer with you... it was like there was something out of place there, that got replaced with something purer.

shocking, they know.

"alright, out with it." iwaizumi spat out, hitting oikawa lightly on the shoulder. oikawa looked at iwaizumi curiously. "out with what, iwa-chan?" "are you stupid? you know you can't make her a victim of your charms." when iwaizumi said that, he knew exactly who the her he was referring to was. it was you.

oikawa looked at iwaizumi all pouty, his eyebrows furrowed. "how low do you think of me? i'm not charming her for anything malicious..." "so you're admitting you are making her like you." "i-i never said that!" oikawa retorted, his face getting redder and hotter, his voice getting higher as he was on the brink of admitting the truth.

iwaizumi furrowed his eyebrows and pursed his lips. "so why are you doing this, it's clear she has no interest in you." oikawa couldn't argue with iwaizumi's statement, it was true, you didn't look like you had fully trusted oikawa, and that hurt him to a degree nobody, not even he could bear.

"...because i like her. and i want her to trust me." oikawa muttered, looking away from iwaizumi. it was hard for him to admit, but there was no other way to express it without getting totally crushed by his own half truths and half lies. this was the whole, unadulterated truth–tooru oikawa, the great king of the court, liked you.

he liked the way you got flustered whenever your favorite character would say they love you, he liked the way you glared at him when you'd catch on to his flirting, he liked the way you were so knowledgeable on such nerdy things that... he had watched all your favorite movies and animes, and was planning to gift you merch this coming holiday season.

"...well, you have a lot of work to do to prove to her you like her." "no kidding..." oikawa replied with a sigh, at least his best friend supported his crush on you. he knew it might take a while, a very long while–maybe a whole lifetime to prove how much he loved you. but he'd prove it to you, somehow, and he won't ever stop until he shows his little nerdy girl just how much he's serious about her; how much he loves you.

[kira-fluff]

"can you pretend to be my boyfriend?"

pairing: osamu miya x reader (haikyuu!!) a/n: unfortunately based off a true story. tw: anxiety, bullying, swearing, threatening

you sidled yourself in a seat next to your good friend. "heeeeey 'samu~" you grinned.

"what do ya want?"

"can i not just want to greet my amazing friend?"

he gave you a skeptical look and you blanched. "well, uhm..."

"if it's my food ya want, yer not gettin' it." he grumbled, selfishly sucking more milk through his straw.

"can you be my boyfriend?"

comically, osamu proceeded to spew the milk in his mouth out in shock, nearly missing atsumu who sat across the table, much to both of their dismay.

wiping some milk from his mouth, osamu managed to choke out a strained, "yer for real..?"

you blinked, then flushed, "i-i-i meant for pretend, i mean it!" you bit your lip, "there's this girl who recently decided she doesn't like me. i'm not sure why... but she started telling rumors and lies about me to other people.....including her boyfriend. and...and.. he's super intimidating..." you looked away, "'samu, he came up to me the other day and said that if i mess with 'his girl'... that i'd 'regret it'....'samu, i'm scared. it's silly, right? but.. but it would just make me feel safer.."

a warm hand fell on your shoulder, "'s not silly. 's a threat. do ya want me 'ta take care of him?"

you shook your head quickly, "n-no! i just... i need you to just.. pretend. i know it's weird, but it would mean a lot to me, okay?"

osamu eyed you up and down before saying, "why me?"

your eyes widened and you once again couldn't look him in the eye. after all, it'd be pretty lame to confess after he so blatantly shot you down a few minutes ago. "well, you're my best 'guy' friend. and you're pretty much built like a greek god--"

he smirked, amused, "ya think 'm built like a greek god?"

"i'm still here, guys, keep the flirting to a minimum," piped in atsumu.

you both turned in unison to him, identically saying, "shut up, 'tsumu."

you cleared your throat, "anyway, you're bulky and strong and could definitely beat him in a fight."

"obviously."

"so will you help me... please?"

osamu's resolve seemed to waver the longer your stared into his eyes with a begging expression. to be honest, the moment he'd heard that some guy was harassing you, he was beyond pissed off and was ready to agree to just about anything you asked of him. but, once he found out that you had also wanted to be his (albeit, pretend) girlfriend? it seemed like the perfect opportunity to show you what it could really be like.. and how much he loved you.

"i guess." he said, his cheeks slightly flushing.

it shocked you that he had agreed. after all, this is osamu you're talking about. he scarcely looked your way, much less harbored any idea of you being his girlfriend. and yet here you were, walking down the halls, holding hands. he avoided your gaze, though you knew him well enough to know he wasn't annoyed with you, just embarrassed, which you had expected.

what you hadn't expected, however, was that girl. you call her that girl because you honestly didn't know her name. only that she despised you. you frowned, recalling the numerous times your friends walked up to you telling you she'd said you were "annoying" or that she was surprised you were ever invited to anything what with the way you make everything about yourself. you knew your friends meant well but a part of you wished they'd never told you. you weren't exaggerating when you say that you are a "drama-free" person. you seemed to always be the last one to hear the gossip going around and certainly the last to spread anything. it upset you that despite your best efforts someone had decided that you were irritating enough to make comments to others about. you tried to not take things personally, you really did, but when you'd heard her talking about you while you were in a bathroom stall, it took all of your strength to hold back your tears. unfortunately, because you're drama-free, you also aren't the most confrontational person. rather, you preferred confrontation when the other people didn't seem to take anything anyone ever did personally. you thought back on yourself, searching for anything you could've done wrong to bother her but after much consolation from friends, turned up nothing. still, a part of you felt like it was all your fault. maybe you could've tried harder to be extra kind to her?

you were broken out of your thoughts by a squeeze to your hand. making eye contact with that girl, she rolled her eyes and turned, walking the other way. osamu looked down at you in concern as your brows furrowed in a hurt expression.

"do ya even know her?"

"..no."

"then why should you care what she says or thinks?"

"because, 'samu, it's not that easy. i can tell myself it doesn't matter and that i shouldn't care but that doesn't make it so. it doesn't rewire my brain to stop caring about what other people think. no matter how hard i try."

he was silent for a moment, contemplating something.

then, he lightly caressed your cheek with the palm of his hand, smiling softly. "i guess i can't change yer mind... but i can remind you that the people who are actually worth yer time won't make some round-about shitty way of telling ya they have a problem with ya."

you smiled warily, though he had to admit he said exactly what you needed to hear. besides that, you noticed you'd definitely chosen the right guy - his acting skills as your boyfriend were superior. your eyes wandered around to the gaze of your fellow peers as some cooed not-so-subtly at osamu's public display of affection.

your gaze returned to his as he eyed you up and down. "ya sure yer alright?"

"positive."

"ya know it's okay not to be fine all the time."

you laughed lightly, "thanks, 'samu. but really, I think I'm okay. i just can't think about it or it'll make me all upset again."

"wanna come over tonight? thankfully i'm makin' dinner and not atsumu," he grinned.

you conservation switched to various other topics as you both walked down the hall before he had to go to volleyball practice.

-

"didn't i tell you what happens to bitches who mess with my girl?" a gruff voice called behind you.

you froze, regretting the fact that you neglected to bring your phone with you during your lunch break and were subsequently now completely alone with some gorilla-faced man who spoke gravelly like he wasn't in high school at all. slowly turning, you cowered, "i-i don't think i did anything wrong.."

immediately his fist slammed against your locker. "obviously you fuckin' did if my girl is tellin' me you've been a fuckin' problem!"

"i-i-i don't even know who she is," you defended, moving your hands to shield your face in fear.

"bullshit."

you screamed as you felt a hand tightly grab your wrist and you squeezed your eyes shut, preparing yourself for the impact of a fist. after a few moments, you opened them, shocked to see osamu standing in front of you, shielding you from the gruff boyfriend.

"get a load of this guy," osamu smiled sardonically, "getting involved in his girlfriend's drama because she can't handle it herself? you must be her hero."

the man grit his teeth hard, winding up for a punch that osamu immediately countered, without breaking a sweat.

"you take that back you fuckin' piece of shit!" he growled, aiming for a blow to osamu's kneecap. "how the fuck does a prick like you even know this stupid bitch anyway." he continued, seemingly adding fuel to the fire.

osamu's eyes widened with a fiery rage, "you don't get to talk like that about my girlfriend." within seconds, the man was pummeled to the ground and osamu's fist connected against his face repeatedly until you pulled osamu away.

as if the situation wasn't already at its worst, that girl came running down the hall. "you BITCH! how dare you do this to my man! i fucking knew you were a rat." she paused for a moment before letting out a shriek of laughter, "oh? what's this? there's no fucking way you managed to get a boyfriend. what, you finally found someone willing to fuck you for a price?" she giggled, "osamu miya, was it? tell me, how much is she paying you to play pretend?"

osamu ground down on his teeth dangerously as he eyed the girl with contempt. "I'll have you know that i asked her out and was lucky enough for her to say yes."

she forced out another laugh, "then you're both pathetic! a match made in heaven."

you willed the tears to stay in your eyes, not wanting to give the girl the power of knowing that she hurt you, that she made you cry. you whispered something even you could barely hear.

"what was that? finally apologizing to me?"

you narrowed your eyes, looking her directly in her own as you raised your voice, "I said 'LEAVE US ALONE!'" you screamed with all you had in you.

she smirked, seemingly only a little fazed by your outburst. "fine, I'll leave. as soon as you prove you guys are actually dating. 'cause, like, there's no way, right babe?!" her boyfriend grunted out a laugh from his position on the floor.

this is the end. you thought. i'm gonna have to confess that i made this whole thing up and then i'm never going to hear the end of it. you sent a worried look to osamu who was already inches from your face. you tried to back away in shock, but his hand found purchase on the small of your back. he pulled you in tightly before taking your chin in between his index and thumb. his eyes conveyed a message you couldn't quite decifer.

yet, the next thing you knew, his lips were on yours. it wasn't at all the sort of chaste or reluctant kiss you were expecting, but one filled with hunger and desire. you returned in equal force, intertwining your fingers in his gray-brown locks. you could've sworn you'd heard a guttural groan as you shifted your leg in between his. when you at last separated, the girl and her boyfriend were gone. it was just the two of you.

osamu looked down at your lips once more before meeting your eyes. "hey."

you laughed breathily, "hey."

"do ya wanna date fer real?"

you answered with another eager kiss.

[lujingheswife]

and it felt like home again.

summary: when he gets drowned in exhaustion and homesickness, the first thing he wishes for is home.

featuring: oikawa tooru

word count: 729

cw: gn!reader, timeskip!oikawa tooru, comfort, oikawa is just homesick, not proofread, intentional lowercase, a bit of fluff <3

author’s notes: wanna write a fic of a character feeling homesick and exhausted (because i was) and oikawa was the first person that came into my mind! hope you enjoyyy

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

it was seven o clock in the evening.

tooru limply stepped into his rented apartment, the familiar loneliness welcoming him with silence. his eyes felt droopy from lack of sleep, his body sore from multiple rounds of exercising and his arms bruised from the strong receives.

he should be used to this, which he is, yet it happened to be one of those days when he felt absolutely, dreadfully exhausted.

he would be lying if he says he does not want to go home; he really wanted to. the countless practices had always made him wanting to just pack his bags and leave. he missed his family and his mother’s home cooked meals, he missed enjoying authentic ramen at the restaurant near his high school, he missed being in the arms if his partner just taking his time to relax.

he missed his home.

tooru placed his bags by the entrance, not bothering to arrange them somewhere. he kicked his shoes off without caring to keep them nicely in the shoe rack. he let his legs drag him towards the nearest, softest place he could find to rest— the sofa.

the apartment was dark although illuminated by the light lingering in the evening sky. he heavily rested an arm over his eyes, a loud sigh escaped his lips.

the first person that came into his mind was you.

he wanted to see you.

tooru suddenly thought of his phone that was left forgotten in his bag. he slightly lifted his arm to take a peek at his bag, but ignored it after.

whatever, not in the mood...

just a little longer maybe.

when his eyes could no longer bear the weight of his consciousness, they finally put him into slumber.

he found himself in a dream. he was in a field of grass with nothing else around him. every direction he went showed no signs of obstacle, only an endless field.

what was he searching for?

where was he going?

he continued walking aimlessly.

ah... how long have i been walking for?

the sound of a bell ringing came to him from the front. it caught his attention, and his legs picked up the pace. there he was, running towards where the bell rung from in hopes of a destination.

a flash of light blinded him.

tooru jotted awake from the sofa as the sound of the ringing doorbell continued echoing the apartment. confused, he definitely recalled not ordering any food delivery today nor did he invite anyone to come over.

"coming," he called. he groggily dragged himself towards the door, not bothering to check his phone again.

his hand reached for the doorknob as he unlocked it open. he had not look at who the person is, yet the shoes definitely belonged to someone familiar. "do you need anythi-"

"tooru!"

what?

his once droopy eyes widened immediately at the familiar voice calling for his name. his head shot up from facing the floor, immediately locking eyes with you.

you stood in front of his door with a big backpack clinging onto your back like a koala and a luggage standing next to you. you were there, physically, in front of him, plastering a grin that he loved so much on your face. "you did not answer my call," you said as you pouted your lips on purpose, yet he was sure that you were simply amused at your boyfriend's reaction.

tooru remained speechless as he observed you top to toe, confirming whether its the real deal, his precious partner, in front of his doorstep. was it a coincidence that you somehow magically appeared in front of him like an angel during the times when he needed you the most? probably.

his hand left the door knob as he immediately pulled you into a tight, warm embrace. how surreal did it feel when he buried his face in the crook of your neck, enjoying the coziness he longed to feel. he felt you responding to his hug as you returned it, and he could feel your familiar scent tickling his nose saying, "it's been a while!"

he stayed with you for a little longer before getting pestered to help you with your heavy bags. he asked no questions, just clinging onto you like a helpless toddler and ended the day with a cuddle.

and it felt like home again.

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

[chimielie]

oh my god, they were roommates

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

you're not talking to tooru.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"do not."

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

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

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

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

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

“deal.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"for what, oikawa?" you laugh nervously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"what the fuck?"

[lovelybunnyxx]

Locker Room Fun ― Tōru Oikawa

TW: NSFW

❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥

Imagine being Karasuno's team manager and Tōru Oikawa being a complete and utter asshole after facing Karasuno. Especially if you and him are secretly in a relationship or are friends with benefits. 

Not only does he have a smug grin on his face when Aoba Johsai wins the tournament that ends Karasuno's volleyball season early, but he also just has to fuck you in the locker room after. 

He has you pushed against the lockers, your skirt bunched up around your hips, and your legs wrapped around him as he roughly thrusts into you. The top of your uniform has been unbuttoned, and he's sucking lazy love bites on the skin just above your breasts, chuckling under his breath every time you make a noise of pleasure. 

He doesn't even try to hide what he's doing. On the contrary, he would love for the members of Karasuno to know. He sees the way they look at you: with longing gazes and dreamy smiles when you give them compliments. He wants to rub it in their faces that not only did he ruin their chances of continuing the season almost single-handedly, but he also has their pretty manager cumming around his dick in their own locker room. 

He is nice enough to pull out when he's about to cum, although he's quick to shove his cock down your throat instead, not stopping until Oikawa is sure that your jaw and throat will be left sore for a few days and he has filled your belly. 

If he particularly feels like rubbing it in, he'll make certain they see him when he escorts you out of the locker room and to his car. And when he fucks you later that night, he'll be even more into it than usual, knowing that they will certainly know what happened when they see you walk into school with a flushed face and a slight limp the next day. 

He just wishes that he could be there to see it. 

[noosayog]

004 logical

✧ wc: 2.5k

✧ warnings/content: oikawa toru x reader, no gendered pronouns used but lease lmk if I missed any! sfw, angst to fluff, another breaking up making up fic, long distance relationship

✧ GUTS masterlist, regular masterlist

divider from @/cafekitsune

“I don’t think this is working out.” 

When Oikawa hears those words, marred by phone static, he drops the remote from his left hand and his fork from his right. 

“Baby,” he says cautiously, disoriented. “It’s just a few more days.” 

There’s a moment of silence. Oikawa picks up the phone and presses it to his ear. 

“It’s not just that,” you say quietly. “How much longer are we going to do this – not seeing each other, missing calls, postponing flights? Even when we’re talking, we’re not fully focused on each other.” 

“That’s not true,” he immediately protests. 

“Yes, it is. Were you not just watching a game and eating right before this?” 

“That doesn’t mean I’m not fully focused on you.” 

“Yes, Toru. It does.” 

He has so much to say, yet none of it seems to come out. Nothing seems appropriate. 

You sigh again. “Just… stay, Toru. Stay there. You don’t have to fly back to Japan for me. I know volleyball’s important for you.” 

When he says nothing, you go on. “But I hate the way this makes me feel. Like I’m asking you to give up what you love to fly across the globe just to see me for a few days.”

“You’re not. I want to-” 

“Toru.” 

His mouth clamps shut. 

“Last time you came back to Japan, you missed a last-minute practice match with that coach you’ve been wanting to work with. Last time I came to you, I spent 2 of the 4 days I was there alone because you had another last minute volleyball thing. Even when we invest the time to see each other, we’re not really… there.” 

Oikawa knows; he knows. 

“So let’s just… not.” 

He knows, but that doesn’t mean he wants to… not. 

“Just hold on a couple more days, okay?” he asks, trying his hardest not to beg and whimper. “Just a couple of days, and I’ll be back in Japan and we can talk, figure something out.” 

“Toru…” 

“Please, wait for me.” 

“I don’t know if I have that in me anymore.” 

The coldness of your words seize his chest. 

Hearing nothing more from him, you sign off with finality, “Good bye, Toru.”

And the line cuts off. 

–

Today is Friday, the beginning of the 3-day long exchange scrimmages with the visiting Brazilian and Chilean pro teams. Duffle bag tossed on the floor by his feet, Oikawa flops on the couch, downing the remainder of his protein shake. The bright screen of his laptop stares back at him, email confirmation of his flight change there to reprimand him, remind him. 

Your Flight AE344 to Haneda International Airport for Thursday, February 8th has been canceled. 

You’re booked for Flight AE267 to Haneda International Airport for Monday, February 12th! See you soon! 

After you had hung up, he gave you a call back. You didn’t answer. He tried again an hour later, then 2, then 12. He had listened to the line ring, for exactly 20 seconds, 8 rings, before banishing him to your unset-up voicemail. 

Shutting the laptop screen, he picks up his duffle and is out the door. After all, if he didn’t show up to the scrimmage, what would this have all been for? 

–

Friday night arrives, and despite how tired he is, physically from all the exercise and mentally from all the socialization with the visiting players, you wander through his mind. He supposes this is hardly surprising, given you’ve always been his place of rest, regardless of the physical distance, sheer kilometers between the two of you. 

Almost afraid to look, he checks his phone and immense disappointment and an increasingly familiar emptiness fill his chest when he sees nothing from you. 

He tries your phone again. It rings, rings, and rings and there’s no reward, your voice waiting at the other end.

He showers, eats a quick dinner, and meal preps for Saturday’s scrimmage. Busying himself works momentarily, but at 9PM, his phone alarm goes off, reminding him that it’s time to call you. For the past year, his routine has been talking on the phone with you every night at 9PM. No matter where he is, at a bar with teammates, at dinner with friends, or late night practice, he always takes at least 10 minutes to talk to you. 

When the two of you first established this, the agreed upon time was 10PM for him, 10AM for you. The two of you used to compete to see who could call who first. The first night, you called the exact second the clock struck 10. So the next night, Oikawa called at 9:59. Then the following night, you called at 9:58. And it went on until the two of you begrudgingly came to a truce that you’d alternate nights. 

And tonight is your night. 

Five minutes after 9, Oikawa knows the call isn’t coming. 

–

Late Friday night – or technically early Saturday morning – Oikawa lays awake in bed wondering how the hell it all went down the way it did. It hasn’t even been a full year since the two of you started to do long-distance. And he’s still confused. He’s confused because he thought the two of you were doing the best you could be. He’s confused because he’s never even thought about the possibility of not being with you. 

He twists over to lay on his side, facing his phone screen, open at your contact. His thumbs hover over your name for the nth time that night, only for him to flop back on his back, turning now to the other side, your side. It hits him then that he can’t even remember the feeling of you in that bed, the last time you kissed. If he had known that would be the last time, he would've savored it all the more. He’d burn the memory into his nerves, just so he could remember the feeling. Volleyball was all muscle memory; he never thought he’d need to commit you as well. 

Before he knows it, morning arrives. He starts to get ready. 

He brushes his teeth, packs his gym bag, and starts to eat breakfast. 

His legs shake, knees bouncing up and down in a nervous tick that hasn’t shown itself since high school. His laptop screen is up again, the flight ticket once again flashing bright. 

It’s a reminder. Now he knows that when it’s not reciprocal, the distance between the two of you is so much more than 18,000 kilometers and 12 hours. There’s no phone line, no facetime to shorten that distance, even if just by perception. 

Then, it’s a striking thought: a realization that postponing a plane ride those few days could cost him a lifetime.

He dials your number again. 

It rings, and rings, and rings. 

“... Hello?” 

“You picked up,” he hears himself say. 

“Sorry I missed yesterday, Toru.” He knows what you’re referring to without you saying it. “And I’m sorry I hung up… like that.” 

There’s a lot to say, but he can’t do it like this. So he asks, “will you wait for me to come home?” 

“Toru…” your voice breaks with the syllables of his name. He hears the reluctance in your tone. 

“If you want to break up, if you truly want to stop being with me,” it takes monumental effort for Oikawa to even speak of such an event. “Then say it to me in person. I have to know.” 

You’re silent in response. He’s glad you aren’t refusing, saying that the flight, the cost, the time isn’t worth itt. He’s glad that you agree it’s still a worthwhile conversation to have in person. He’s glad you haven’t given up. 

“Wait for me, okay? Please.” 

It takes a few simple clicks and a significant chunk of his savings to do what he does next. 

– 

For the entirety of the flight to Haneda International, Oikawa’s knees bounce, colliding uncomfortably with the seat in front of him. Even with what little affirmation you gave him by simply picking up his call, it brings him little comfort as there’s absolutely nothing he could do for the next 28 hours but sit tight. 

When the plane lands safely in Tokyo, local time of 9PM Sunday, Oikawa charms his way into getting off the plane first. He flashes a weak smile at all the people still in their seats of the plane, before rushing off with only his carry-on in tow. There’s no time to wait for a bus, so he shoves his way to the front of the taxi line, reciting your address as if it hadn’t been over 4 months since he’s been there. 

Every passing moment does little to ease his nerves, exacerbated even up until the moment he arrives at your door. The seconds pass in loud silence, the hollow sound of his knocking ringing in his ears. 

All the white noise fades, though, when the door opens and reveals you. No matter that your eyes are red and swollen, no matter that you’re wearing one of his old ratty Seijoh sweaters, no matter that the two of you are supposed to be breaking up.

“Toru,” you breathe. Oikawa forgets you’re supposed to sound like this, not the distorted, muffled imitation of your voice he hears through the phone too often. Yet another addition to his growing list of realizations. 

“What are you doing here?” 

He doesn’t know where it comes from, but a single heave of a laughter bursts from his chest. “I told you I wanted to see you, didn’t I?” 

“But… your flight wasn’t supposed to arrive until Wednesday.” You’re cautious and he hates that. He wants you to be uncaring of the emotions you show around him, to jump into his arms and forgive him. He wants it back. 

“I changed my flight.” 

“But volleyball…” 

“That’s the thing,” he starts. “I think that’s probably one of the things I never made clear to you.” 

You look at him, confused. 

“Can I come in?” 

It stings when you instinctively fold your arms over your chest protectively, eyes briefly leaving him to look at the ground. 

 “Will you let me in?” he tries again. 

You look back up at him, moving to the side to let him in. 

When the door clicks shut behind him, the first thing Oikawa does is wrap you up in his embrace. His arms engulf you. He forces his hold to be gentle, on the chance that you push away. You don’t, so he holds on tighter and tighter, until you squeak from the pressure. He thinks he mumbles an apology, but he’s not really sure because all he registers is your arms coming up to grab his sweater. 

It’s not enough. 

You let him just hold you, for how long, he doesn’t know, until you finally squeak out his name. He reluctantly pulls away and starts talking, as if he wants to get the talking part over as fast as possible so he can pull you right back in again. 

“The thing I wanted to tell you,” he continues from before. “There’s no comparison – between you and volleyball, I mean.” 

“Toru, you know that’s not true.” 

Yes, it is,” he insists. “I’ve never seen volleyball as something that takes away from time that belongs to you. Every time you come to see me, or I go to see you, or when I push a flight, I’ve always seen that as just a… postponement of our time together, never that it would take away from it.” 

“Toru…” you push further away. 

“But, I think I get it now. I get that phone calls, video calls, text messages can’t be a substitute. I know because I almost forgot how your voice sounds outside of a phone and because I can’t accept us breaking up through a screen. And even more so because I can’t live off of the memory of how you feel.” 

When your gaze softens, he knows he got it right. It only took all this time for him to understand what you meant when you said things weren’t working; it was never about a postponed flight. 

“I’m sorry it took me so long to get it.” 

Your palm comes up to cup his face. Your thumb brushes a wet spot on his cheek. “Oh, Toru. I would never make you compare, I thought you knew that.” 

“I know,” he says. I know. And he does. 

“Sometimes, I just need to know you miss me as much as I miss you. I know you love volleyball,” 

“I love you,” he interrupts. 

“I know you love volleyball,” you continue. “And I would never want you to feel like you had to give any of it up for me. I just need to know that you feel what I feel too.” 

His hands at your waist squeeze, like he’s reassuring you that he does. 

“I know that you won’t be playing in Argentina forever. I was prepared to deal with long-distance for as long as it takes for you to be ready to come home. But-” 

He shakes his head like he doesn’t need you to say it. 

“No, let me say this. But, sometimes it felt like you were settling for how we were. Then… when you postponed the flight, I guess I was just bummed because I was so excited to see you. But you acted like it wasn’t a big deal.” 

Yeah, he did, didn’t he. 

“It felt like you would be just fine substituting me for the sport.” 

“Yeah,” he agrees. 

There’s so much to explain and he’s afraid it would take too long. He needs to tell you that’s not how he feels and that it’s not true at all. And perhaps he’s become self-aware of his ability to grow numb to things like homesickness and he tried to apply that to you too so that he wouldn’t be crippled by the sheer magnitude of how much he truly missed – misses – you. And how appalled he was when he realized he was associating you with memories and nostalgia, as if you were a had-been and not a still-is. 

But you seem to understand because your hands are still gentle on his face and your gaze is affectionate. 

“Stop crying, you baby.” 

“I’m not crying!” he denies. 

“If you don’t stop crying, I won’t kiss you,” you tease. 

He clams up, biting on his lips to stop the hiccups. His eyes roll upwards to the ceiling, willing any tears to stop overflowing. 

You laugh lightly at the sight, voice still clearly weak from your crying marathon. 

He has a lot to apologize for, doesn’t he.

You lean upwards for a kiss. It catches him off guard to this day, how much you can express in your gentle affection. It’s another thing he can’t feel through a screen. 

With each kiss you press on his lips, he counts the things he has to apologize for, but more importantly he counts the things he needs to tell you he misses and loves about you when he inevitably puts the 18,000 kilometers between the two of you again. 

And he’ll do it. Every day. Until the day he finally comes home.

[teamatsumu]

kinktober 2023 -> day 3

phone sex - oikawa tooru x reader

word count: 1,061

kinktober masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.” You breathed out. “Hold on.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tooru, I’m so close.”

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

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

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

Bastard fell asleep immediately after cumming. Figures.

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

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