Tooru X Reader - Blog Posts

On a Cold Winter’s Night (Oikawa x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Trapped in the university library due to a raging blizzard outside, you are forced to endure the cold night with the man you hate the most: the player who lives in the dorm across from you, Tooru Oikawa. But with tensions and anxieties at an all-time high, you begin to realize your feelings for Oikawa aren’t quite what you thought they were, especially when all he wants to do is keep you warm. 

A/N: I took like six hours to write this??? Bruh callin’ amateur hour in this bitch 😑😑 eh, whatever, enjoy!

Word count: 5345

        Snow, layers upon layers, piled up outside of the library. The glass doors of the library had long frosted over, and inside the lights began to flicker. Outside every window was a blanket of white, everything in the distance far too foggy to see through the flurry of flakes. 

       The lone television suspended above the library’s main desk played the same succession of videos–static with white noise, a scrolling of text warning people to stay inside, three loud buzzes, then more static with white noise. It far overpowered the sound of the library’s heater kicking on, its automatic settings desperately trying to battle the cold that succeeded in invading the closed and locked library. 

       You sighed, sparing another glance at the exit and the wall of snow that kept rising against it. Minutes ago you’d tried pushing open the doors, only succeeding in chilling the tips of your fingers against the frozen metal. Ever since then, your fingers never truly seemed to recover. 

       Just your luck; first a small windstorm had delayed your flight back home for Christmas Break, and now, just when you’d given up and decided to work on a few research projects while being stuck at the university, you were trapped inside the library. 

       But you weren’t alone. No, of course not. As if fate had it out for you, you were stuck inside the building with the one guy you despised with your whole being. 

       “Gum?”

       Oikawa held out a piece, a small smirk dancing on the edge of his lips. When all he received in response was a blank stare, he shrugged and unwrapped it, tossing it in his mouth before toying with the wrapper. 

       The both of you sat behind the librarian’s desk in tall, wooden stools. It was the only place with service, and it was where you had both scurried to the second the storm warning chimed through the announcement speakers. 

       While you had attempted to push through the doors, Oikawa had called the school’s main office, warning them of your predicament. Of course, he’d cut himself off halfway through with a cackle at the sight of the door slamming back in your face, but nonetheless he’d gotten a simple, if completely undesirable response. 

       “The both of you need to stay in there and not leave. It’s far too dangerous to go out into the blizzard right now. Tomorrow morning it should be calmed down, and then we’ll send people over to get you. For now, try to stay warm.”

       When he relayed this message to you, you had him put them on speaker so you could hear it with your own two ears. 

       Pop.

       Alas, it was the truth. You were stuck.

       Pop.

       With your worst enemy. Alone. 

       Pop.

       During a blizzard. 

       “Will you stop doing that?” you hissed, heaving a glare at him. 

       Oikawa froze in his seat, a gum-bubble the size of a golf ball slowly deflating with a wheeze. He raised his hands in surrender. “Excuse me for trying to find some source of joy in this miserable place. Maybe you should try having fun once in a while, YN.”

       Your cheeks burned in shame at that. “I have fun!”

       A single brown brow rose. “Do you?”

       “Yes,” you folded your arms across your chest, “I do. But unlike you, I don’t do it at the expense of other people’s sanity.”

       Long ago, amidst your third week of your first year at the university, you learned that you and Oikawa were two vastly different people. In co-ed dorms, he lived just across from you, and it seemed he reminded you of that every other night. 

       While loud music boomed across the hall and eventually spread throughout the building, you sat inside your dorms, hands over the headphones over your ears. You were usually leant over a textbook, pencil and notes abandoned long ago as you tried to comprehend the words despite not being able to hear your own thoughts. 

       Your roommate would slip out to join the fun, meeting and laughing with someone who had knocked on your door. Then that someone had tapped a single finger on your shoulder, squatting down beside your desk and leaning his head to one side. 

       As usual, a teasing smile danced on his lips. “You gonna join us, or sit here studying like a Debbie Downer?”

       You’d be the first–and most certainly not the last–to admit that he was attractive. Brown hair exploding in tufts and swept across his forehead. Bronze eyes twinkling in the light of your lamp. Thin, pink lips pulled into a goading grin. 

       “Come on, I promise the water’s warm.”

       It was at that moment that you started to hate him.

       “Get out of my room.”

       The smugness blanketing his face had dropped for a split second, and you genuinely wondered if you were the first to ever resist his charms. But how could you not, when in every second of your interaction with him, it felt like he was laughing at you?

       Hesitantly, it seemed, he rose to his feet, stumbling a bit. You shouldn’t have been surprised that he was already drunk, but you hadn’t smelled it earlier when he was inches from your face. 

       “All right,” he chuckled, rising to his full height with his hands on his knees. Swiftly, he turned and made his way to your door, not bothering to look back at you again. “I know when I’m not wanted. Enjoy your studying, YN.”

       How he’d learned your name, you never really. You’d figured he caught it on the first day of the one class you shared with him, English, amidst mandatory introductions. Since then, every time your name fell on his lips, he more sang it than said it, always in that sly tone of his. 

       You hated it. You hated him. 

       And now, as you spent the third day of Christmas Break locked inside alone with him in a freezing library, you found yourself despising him even more. 

       Pop.

       “Well, YN, you should know better than anyone that I have a knack for driving people insane,” Oikawa hummed, long fingers folding the edges of his gum wrapper against the desk surface. Your eyes drawn to the action, you absentmindedly scoffed. 

       “Yes, I certainly do.”

       His eyes darted to yours, an emotion flitting across them before dropping back down to his miniature origami. A chill ran up your spine. 

       “I’m going to go look for some blankets,” you sputtered out of the blue. You found yourself reflecting his shocked look, a little surprised at yourself at the outburst. 

       “Okay,” he grinned after a pause. “Hurry back soon.”

       Ignoring the wink he offered you, you slipped out of your chair and left him alone behind the desk counter, effectively beginning your search for stray, abandoned coverings. 

       Instantly, you realized the rest of the library was significantly chillier than the desk up front. Though the heater was still pumping and hissing through the air vents above you, it was now rattling much more forcefully than before.

       Must be the snow piling on top of the electrical system or something. 

       The fluorescent lights buzzed above you, still cutting off and flickering every few seconds as you passed bookshelf after labeled bookshelf. Signs labeled with genres and areas of study swung from the ceiling over rows of different-colored bindings. So distracted, you let out a yelp of pain after stubbing your toe against an abandoned book cart, plenty of go-backs filed one after the other in no discernible order. 

       “YN?” Far off, Oikawa’s voice called after you. Despite the distance you’d created between the two of you, he still must have heard your pained shout. A small part of you was surprised he bothered to acknowledge the noise at all. 

       Maybe he’s not a complete pain in the ass.

       “Yeah, that was me, I’m fine! Just hit my foot on something!”

       “Do you need help finding your way around? I’m sorry, I forgot my walking rope, so we’ll have to hold hands!”

       Nevermind, still a dick. 

       “Fuck you!”

       “That’s why I’m here!”

       Rolling your eyes, you purse your lips to prevent giving in to his teasing further. With a few hissed curses under your breath, you continue venturing through the uninhabited building. Though you did find a few abandoned belongings, none of which were of much use. A few too small hoodies, one suspicious pair of sweatpants, and some stray sunglasses. One poor soul even forgot their backpack at one of the work tables, and despite your initial curiosity, you refrained from digging through it and instead left it where it was. 

       It was when you arrived at the individual work areas divided by wooden partitions that your search finally paid off. Because it was arranged against a line of floor-to-ceiling windows, it was significantly colder in this work area than any other place you’d come across. Luckily, that also meant there was a higher chance of you finding spare blankets–which you did. 

       One was still strewn across the back of a work chair, a black fur throw with no designs but a single tear at one corner, presumably where a tag had been. Another, this one cream-colored, knitted wool, sat in a crumpled pile on the very last desk of the entire area, arranged in the furthest corner of the library from the entrance. The bulb in the ceiling above this desk had been out ever since the first time you’d been in the library, so you weren’t surprised to figure that people crammed out naps between studying in this dark little corner.

       While gathering the two–scratch that, there was another on the ground next to you–three blankets in your arms, you spared a look outside the windows. Frost and a glaze of ice covered each corner where metal met glass, and, because you were on the first floor, you could see how high the snow had piled by now. It reached as high as your hips, with more flakes joining or splatting against the pane every second. 

       The sun, you could see, was just barely setting, the gray of the sky growing darker. Soon enough, it was darker inside than it was outside. 

       The power. It had gone out.

       “YN!”

       Because the heater sputtered a few more clicks before kicking the bucket, you could barely hear Oikawa’s voice, far off and muffled, over the large distance you’d covered in the library. The lights above you no longer buzzed, and instead an unsettling silence took over the building. 

       “Oikawa! The lights!” You hugged the blankets to your chest with one straining arm, the other fumbling with your phone flashlight. You began the trek back to the front desk, squinting to try and make out shelves and stray books along the way. Despite the long-sleeved T-shirt you wore, a chill was beginning to nip at your skin, and you slowed to wrap a blanket around your shoulders. 

       “I know, the weight of the snow must have taken out the electrical box or something!” His voice was getting closer; he must have been making his way towards you in return. 

       Passing through the towering bookshelves, you made it out and turned a corner onto the main path they created. A shadow of a figure stood inches from your face. 

       “Shit!” You flinched back, kicking a leg out blindly in self-defense. The tip of your snow boot struck something hard, and a strangled groan escaped the person as they dropped to the floor. Now level with the light of your flashlight, the person was finally visible–Oikawa hugged his shin to his chest with clenched eyes and gritted teeth. 

       “Ow, ow, ow, owie!” 

       You winced, your guilt growing worse after realizing he had just been searching for you. 

       “Oh, sorry,” you cringed, dropping the blankets and hovering your hands over his coiled form. You wanted to help, you just weren’t sure how. “Do you… do you want some ice for that?”

       The glare he threw you chilled you to the bone more than the weather outside.

       “C’mon,” you hid a snigger behind your hand, straightening up and offering him the other, “it was just a joke. I really am sorry. Let’s get back to the front desk; I’ll help you.”

       The huff he released ruffled the bangs on his forehead. “I should make you kiss it better,” he pouted, hand latching onto yours and pulling himself up. He almost yanked you down with him, but you’d stationed a hand on one of the shelves for support the second you felt his whole weight. You hadn’t expected it, but you supposed you should have guessed it–Oikawa’s body was packed with muscle from years of playing volleyball. 

       Even now, as the main setter of your school’s team, he had daily workouts that only made his body stronger. You’d passed him once during a warm autumn day; he was jogging around campus shirtless while you were on your way back to the dorms after just getting out of class. He was headed straight for you, and during that time, everything seemed to move in slow motion. 

       One, two, three… eight, you’d counted, eyes raking down his chest. The sweat glistened on his bare skin, bathing him in a glowing sheen due to the midday sun. A narrow waist trailed down, down to volleyball shorts hanging slanted on his hips. A smug snicker drew your gaze up, past a broad chest and shoulders and onto Oikawa’s simpering face.

       “Like what you see?” his lips mouthed, but you couldn’t hear over the pounding in your ears, blood rushing to your face. 

       “You’re disgusting” were the only words you could think to say, though they were the exact opposite of how you felt. Maybe you were actually speaking to yourself, ashamed at the way your body reacted to a man you hated with your entire mind. Nonetheless, his face fell in shock, and you brushed past him, ignoring how he’d stopped dead in his tracks and continuing back to your dorm. 

       The view from that day was still imprinted in your mind, as though somehow your mind was afraid of forgetting it. Forgetting him. 

       But you would never forget how much you despised his attitude. 

       You released his hand as quickly as you’d grabbed it, reaching back down and gathering the blankets off the floor. A red flush took over your cheeks, and for the first time you were glad the electricity had gone out. Maybe the rest of your body was beginning to freeze, but your face was completely warm. 

       “I’m not kissing anything, perv.”

       You tried to leave him stranded behind you, moving forward to return to the front desk through the darkness, but his longer strides easily caught up with you aside from a small limp. 

       “The night is still young, YN.”

       Instead of a proper response, you settled for a scoff, avoiding the gaze you knew was locked on your face. An amused hum escaped the man beside you, but you blocked it out. 

       Finally back at the front desk, you spared another look outside. The sun had set completely now, a dark blue hue now in the sky as more and more snow collected against the glass. It seemed the warmth of the room had been sucked away completely, leaving behind a stale, frigid atmosphere that dried up the back of your throat.

       “The blankets will certainly help,” Oikawa broke the silence behind you, “but we’ll need more than that. I snagged what I could from the backroom, some water bottles left in the fridge or so, but we need food.” When you shifted to face him, he nodded his head toward the vending machine next to the restrooms. 

       “You want to break into the vending machine?” you deadpanned. 

       “Unless you’ve got generous amounts of cash, of course,” he smiled sarcastically. 

       “Maybe we should wait until morning before we start committing crimes.”

       Oikawa shrugged. “Desperate times, YN.”

       “We’re not that desperate.”

       “Not yet.” He eyed the cloud of air his words left, releasing a larger, experimental breath and watching the fog that hung in the air afterward. 

       The sight made your stomach clench a little. If the cold from the outside had seeped in that quickly, you had a feeling three measly blankets weren’t going to last the two of you through the night. A wave of goosebumps ran along your skin when you thought about the cold too much. 

       You swallowed. “I’m sure we’ll be fine. We just have to make it till morning.” The strain in your arms from holding onto the blankets too long finally drew your attention back to them, and you busied yourself with arranging the throws on the floor. You handed one to Oikawa, saving one for yourself before spreading the last on the floor behind the front desk. 

       The rough carpet floor was less unforgiving when covered with a blanket, but you knew that in a matter of minutes your backside would be numb either way. Oikawa snagged the water bottles off the counter and passed them down to you before settling on the floor himself, a distance far too close for your comfort, but the heat he was giving off silenced any of your complaints. 

       Then it was too quiet. You cracked open a water bottle and took a sip, then you opened it again and took another sip. All the while, you saw Oikawa watch you in your peripheral vision, and when his staring came to be too much, you scrambled for your phone. 

       “Shit.”

       “What?”

       You patted your hands down your legging pockets once more, then along the ground. You flapped around your blanket, hoping to hear a weight thump against the floor, but there was nothing. 

       “My phone’s missing.”

       “When did you-”

       “Dammit, I left it on the ground after kicking you!”

       “Hey,” Oikawa screeched, offended. “You say that like it was my fault!”

       “Well,” you rose to your feet, Oikawa following suit, “you were the one who scared the shit out of me!”

       “Didn’t you know I was looking for you?” He followed you down the main walkway through the shelves, his presence inches from your back.

       “Yeah, but I didn’t expect you to materialize right in front of my face!” In effort to escape his suffocating presence, you quickened your pace, eyes on the ground but not really seeing anything.

       “Oh, I’m sorry, my bad. Next time you go missing during a snowstorm, I’ll be sure to wear a bell so you know exactly where I am at all times.”

       “That’s not what-”

       Crack.

       The both of you froze in place, argument out of mind in an instant. 

       “Was that…?”

       “Uh oh.”

       You both directed your attention to underneath your foot, where an object lay cracked from your aggressive stomping. 

       Dropping your face into your hands, you let out a loud groan. “Could this day get any worse?”

       Oikawa had squatted down to investigate, nudging your leg out of the way before picking up your cracked phone. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, it was useless anyway.” He tapped and poked at the screen, toying with the buttons. “Looks like it was out of battery.”

       “Fuckkkkk.” You tore it from his hands, performing your own investigations of pats and brushes along the screen before calling it quits. “Isn’t yours out too?”

       Solemnly, he nodded, taking his phone out and allowing you to tap around on it before throwing it back in his pocket.

       “So we’re fucked?”

       “Majorly.”

       The pair of you slumped back to the main desk, flopping onto the ground and wrapping back up in your blankets. A shiver of cold mixed with frustration had taken over your body in a short span of time, causing your breaths to escape with slight chatters of your teeth. 

       You could feel it now, on the tips of your fingers and the end of your nose. A chill seeped through your leggings and slid up your shirt sleeves, sinking into every pore and leaving your hair standing on end. Your muscles began that all-too familiar buzz, a slow but steady trembling in effort to get your blood moving. Your toes curled in your boots. 

       “It’s cold,” you commented, the words slipping out like an afterthought. 

       You thought he’d agree, hum, or even nod his head. Instead, Oikawa scooted closer to you on the blanket, enough that his upper arm brushed the end of your shoulder. Then, slowly, as though approaching a wounded animal, his arm rose and wrapped around you, not only covering you with his heat but also with his blanket, still soaked in the warmth from his body. 

       Mind blank, you didn’t move a muscle for what seemed to be five minutes after he’d moved to embrace you. 

       “Is this okay?” he’d whispered into the silence, voice soft yet hesitant. 

       “W-why?”

       “You said you were cold.” He shifted a little, but didn’t move away. And surprisingly enough, you didn’t want him to. “I–didn’t want you to be cold.”

       A blanket of silence falls over the two of you, an atmosphere of peace you never thought you’d experience with the brunette man in your life. His warmth left you in a sort of lethargic trance; you didn’t want to move away, though your mind was urging you to, nor did you have the energy to. For the first time, you wanted Oikawa close to you, and you didn’t want him to leave for a while.

       You were exhausted.

       Formerly, the two of you were both leaning back against the wall. Now, tucked into Oikawa’s side, your right arm pressed into the side of his chest while your left was cushioned a distance from the wall by Oikawa’s arm, wrapped sturdily around your shoulders and urging you to lean toward him instead. 

       Man, you were tired. 

       “YN?”

       “Hmm?” Your eyes cracked back open, and you shifted your gaze to him, waiting. 

       His head was leaned back against the wall, eyes still closed as a single brown tuft of hair fell across his forehead. In the light the moon reflected off the snow, you could see the length of his lashes brushing the apples of his cheeks, the sharp edge of his jawline that you yearned to run a finger along. He didn’t bother to look at you for a response when he muttered, “Why do you hate me?”

       The question zapped you to attention like a taser, guilt flooding your chest for a reason you didn’t quite think you knew. There was a strong urge in you to pull away from him, but the hand on your arm tightened, halting any drastic movements.

       “I… I don’t…”

       “I know you do,” he sighed, tongue running out along his lips. “Please, just tell me.” There was a sort of surrender in his voice you never thought you’d hear. For a second, you missed his smug tone. You missed the teasing lilt of his voice. You missed the Oikawa you knew. 

       You wanted him back. 

       “You’re weirding me out, Oikawa.” In this position, you couldn’t poke him in the cheek, so you settled for his thigh. He barely flinched, peeking a single eye open. “Go back to acting like that smug little shit I know you are.” His lips quirked up.

       “I promise I’m still me, YN. I’m just a bit curious is all.”

       “Yeah, well, it’s freaking me out. I want the normal you back.”

       Wrong words.

       “You do?” He was wide awake at that, head straightened up and eyes wide and at attention. If he was a dog, his tail would be wagging. 

       “Nevermind.” You twisted in his grip to get your back facing him. 

       “No, no, noooo.” Both of his hands grabbed onto your shoulders, shaking you back and forth. “Say it again. Say you want me again.”

       “God, you’re such a perv,” you stutter, voice wavering with his movements.

       “You’re so mean, YN!” he whines, finally releasing your shoulders. You think he’s given up and let down your guard slightly, a little curious at his expression. But when you turn your head to face him, two arms wrap around your waist, yanking you back and in between Oikawa’s outstretched legs. 

       “What the-” While you struggle in his arms, Oikawa only holds you closer, leaning back and taking you with him so your back rests against his front. He hooks his head over your shoulder, and you tense when you feel a breath of warm air against your ear. 

       A shiver tears through your body, but you’re relieved he doesn’t comment on it. 

       “Say it again, YN.” And he definitely feels the shiver that time. A breathless snicker heats up the skin of your neck, but you’re too trapped in his arms to escape the overwhelming feeling it erupts in you. 

       “God, I hate you,” you sigh instinctively. 

       Oikawa grows still. The fun and games are over, it seems, as he pulls his head away from your neck. The arms encircling your waist have become rigid. 

       There’s a thump against the wall. Then a pause. “Why?”

       You bite your lip, and though the words are on the tip of your tongue, you can’t seem to force them out. You’re ashamed, embarrassed, regretful. All of those ugly feelings he pulls out of you every other day, you draw out of yourself in this moment. 

       “Oikawa, I-”

       “Tooru,” he corrects.

       Flustered, you continue, “Tooru… whenever you… you always just… I never…” You groan at your lack of words, throwing frustrated hands over your face. The heat in your body, though small, rises. “I just feel stupid around you.”

       “Stupid?”

       “Like an idiot.”

       “Idiot?”

       “Yeah.”

       “Yeah?”

       “Stop it.”

       “Sorry,” he pauses, “I just… you think you feel stupid? Around me?”

       You don’t understand what he means, so you stay silent. 

       “So… you feel like an idiot around me… why, exactly?”

       “Because,” you wave your hands around, not really sure what your gestures are doing considering he can’t see them, “you just… you tease me all the time! And when we’re in class and you look at me and I just feel like I’ve got shit all over my face! And when you throw those stupid-ass parties, I feel so lame because it’s not like I don’t want to socialize, but I hate the way people act at parties! And then you come along and tell me that I should join, but I know it’s gonna fucking suck and I know you’re gonna see that I stick out during parties like a sore thumb and that makes me feel even worse and I-”

       “YN!” A hand slips from your waist, slapping over your mouth and effectively cutting off your rambling. A disbelieved breath sounds behind you. “Jesus Christ, YN.”

       And you feel like even more of an idiot. You take some pleasure in the fact that he can’t see you as tears begin springing in the corners of your eyes. 

       But then there’s a hard pressure against the back of your head. And then something soft against the back of your neck. “YN, YN, YN,” and you realize his lips are on your neck, his face buried into your hair, “God, you just… you drive me fucking crazy, you know that?”

       You didn’t know that.

       “The fact that you can say all of that, and think all of that, and feel all of that, without realizing why I even do it at all drives me insane.” You feel his mouth move against you with every word, your skin growing hot under his breath. You try to speak against his hand, and thankfully he pulls it away when you do, returning it to your waist as though it doesn’t muddle your mind. 

       “What are you talking about?” 

       And he laughs like it’s the dumbest question in the world. And maybe it is, but you have to know. 

       His lips are on your neck one last time before he pulls away, leaning back against the wall once more and taking you with him. “YN,” his fingers twitch against your skin, the cold of them biting through the fabric of your shirt, “do you have feelings for me?”

       And you feel like the biggest idiot of all, because you do. 

       You do have feelings for him, and you only just realized that now. 

       “Holy shit.” 

       Oikawa stiffens. “What?”

       “I have feelings for you.” The words slip out before you can stop them, mostly because you’re still in disbelief. Did you really? After all this time of thinking you hated him, of hating how he teased you, you seriously had feelings for him and you didn’t even notice?

       Stupid. So very stupid. 

       A loud scoff from Oikawa breaks you out of your stupor. 

       “Jesus Christ, you’re gonna drive me nuts.”

       And you can’t even turn around and call him an asshole because he’s turning you in his grip and pressing his lips against yours. The hand on your chin, the other on your hip, all to pull you closer, spin you around and tug you onto his lap without separating from you. 

       Your hands are in his hair, and you’re tugging, and it’s that whine you always hear whenever you don’t respond to his teasing, that needy one you thought you always hated because it just shakes you to your core but now you get it, you finally understand it. And those long fingers, the ones he always slams onto your notes drunkenly whenever he’s having a party and you’re not there but you forgot to lock your door so now he’s in your room and he’s bothering you, begging you and toying with you to get your attention, those fingers that have stolen your notebook away and held over your head while he smiles and stubbles around, getting you to chase him–they’re on your hips and you know they’re leaving bruises and you like that they’re leaving bruises. 

       You like it all because it’s so cold tonight and he’s so warm and he’s always so warm and you want more, more, more. 

       And he hovers over you, and you gasp. You hate how he teases you because he loves it so much, and that makes you love it. You love it. 

       It is cold tonight. There’s a blizzard raging right outside the doors to the library, stacking up snow higher and higher. You’re both trapped, but you don’t want to leave. Because despite all of the cold, you’re both very, very warm. 

                               ~~~

       The next morning, when people find the two of you, they blame it on that little notion that runs through everyone’s minds when people are stuck together during a cold blizzard, because surely that’s what it must be. 

       And surely that’s why your cheeks are flushed and full of embarrassment, because although everybody knows how weird it can be, during such a life-threatening situation, it’s a desperate attempt to stay warm.

       So when they found you the next morning, thankfully safe and sound and wrapped around each other to try and preserve warmth, they were glad that you two innocent, poor little students, who must have been so scared to be trapped in a building without electricity and heat, were going to be okay, and that they could safely escort you out of the building and back to your dormitories with an official apology. 

       Until one of you asked if they could leave so you could finish what you’d started. 

       “Tooru, you fucking pervert!”

Talking to the Moon (Oikawa x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: After breaking up to go their separate ways after high school, YN and Oikawa struggle to accept the fact that neither is willing to give up their career paths for the other. Instead, they both confide in the moon, wishing that it was their other half. (Based on “Talking to the Moon” by Bruno Mars.)

A/N: I won’t take up too much space talking about the obvious (I straight up dipped for like a month, oopsies). Just know I missed writing and finally got the push I’ve been waiting for to return for a little (more like finally had no homework). Enjoy!

Word count: 2464

        The moon, with its deep craters and pale shine, mesmerized him each night, but not for its beauty. For each night, he watched it with intensity, almost glaring at the crescent hanging in the sky with great envy.

        It was never alone. There were always stars or planes or blinking lights on top of tall mountains keeping it company as it made its slow, purposeful journey toward the horizon. Across hazy clouds and black skies, it never strayed from its path, not once. 

        No matter how much he wished it would. 

        “YN.” Oikawa fiddled with his thumbs before continuing. “Are you… are you there?”

        Maybe he was crazy. His neighbors certainly thought so. On the balcony of his beachside condo, he leaned his elbows on a railing that never covered with dust and turned his face to the dark of the night. 

        “I miss you.” 

        And so, as he spoke to the moon of all his troubles, he imagined how she would respond. He told of his game earlier in the day, how his serving had improved and how they had won with just two points to spare. How his teammates had commented on his lingual improvements and celebrated with a drink. But as time went on, he found his shoulders slumping lower and lower until his head was almost hanging, limp. 

        The wind had bitten his nose and cheeks long ago and wisped his hair into a frenzy, and yet he could never find the will to go inside. Still, the moon lit up his form, encouraging his words further. 

        “I still love you.” His voice, barely above a whisper. Oikawa had reached that point that he seemed to reach every night, speaking of his regrets, of his goodbyes, of his sorrows. 

        “I’m sorry we had to end that way.”

        Thousands of miles away and twelve hours later, YN looked up at her own moon, her own stars. Yet, for her, they seemed to move too fast, pass by too quickly. She had never brought herself to open her mouth and let out how she felt, but with the soft rays peeking through her dorm window and painting her desk and papers gray, she’d certainly let her mind wander one too many times.

        Was the pain worth it? Did she do the right thing? Wasn’t this what she wanted?

        Love lay eighteen thousand miles away, right where she’d left it. Purposefully. But if she had done so on purpose, why did it feel like the world had caused her this pain? 

        Her high school sweetheart, her cocky brunette, her best friend, and what must be the love of her life because if he was anything less, she wouldn’t let it ruin her future like this. In college, she had grades to keep up and classes to focus in because, as she’d told him, this was what she wanted. And she wouldn’t stop it for anyone. 

        That night, in her house, Oikawa had told her he’d been recruited to another country. His skills were unmatched and they wanted him on their team. With the promise of beautiful beaches and a generous paycheck, Oikawa said he couldn’t say no. But YN made no such promises. 

        “You know I can’t go with you.” I couldn’t, I really couldn’t. 

        “What about online?” It wouldn’t have been the same.

        “I want the experience, Tooru, not just the classes.” The experiences aren’t enough anymore, though. 

        “So what does that mean, YN?” I didn’t know.

        “Come on, Tooru. We both… we both know what it means.”

        She’d bawled her eyes out, tears flowing without end the minute he shut her front door. A deep pain struck her chest each time she thought about his back turning without a goodbye. Her parents offered sympathetic smiles and well-meaning hugs, rubbing her back and whispering that everything was going to be okay until she cried herself to sleep.

        That was months ago. Seven, to be exact. 

        But as Oikawa and YN both peered out at their moons, confessing their pain and drowning in their sorrows, they couldn’t help but feel like the loss had happened yesterday. 

                                ~~~

        Suitcases sat on the floor, filling the room and emptying it all the same. On his bare mattress, Oikawa sat with his teeth buried into his bottom lip, leaning back on his hands as tears trailed down his cheeks.

        Just across from him hung the collage of photographs YN had helped him pin against the wall. A photograph of them together as young kids where Oikawa pulled YN’s hair and laughed while she cried. Another of them on prom night, not smiling at the camera but instead at each other, lovestruck. Another, YN wrapped up in Oikawa’s arms as he hoisted her up high grinning and rubbing his nose into her neck as she squealed. 

        Two weeks ago, he never would have thought of throwing them away, but now it was all he wished to do. After all, by this fall he would be moved out of Japan and into Argentina, in an apartment he’d already arranged with the team manager. 

        Being recruited right out of high school. It was a blessing, it was lucky, it was everything the Aoba Johsai Volleyball Club called it and more. Now, Oikawa felt more cursed than blessed. 

        The one person he wanted smiles from gave him tears. When he wanted congratulations, he got heartbreak. Oikawa wanted her to come with him--he could make room in his new house. He would always make room, and more. 

        At the very least, he wanted to hear her beg for him not to. Not to leave, not to break her heart, not to follow his dreams. In the future, he knows he would’ve truly considered it if she had, but YN was not selfish like that. Oikawa’s YN would never try to take him away from this once in a lifetime opportunity. 

        YN loved him too much to hold him back with her, and that was the one thing he always resented about her.

                                ~~~

        Dark circles and puffy bags hung under YN’s eyes. This was what she wanted.

        Clouds stormed overhead, whispering deadlines and test days and hundred point assignments. This was what she asked for. 

        This was how she got the job she wanted, the job she picked out when she was approximately nine. This was how she expanded her bubble, discovered a world she thought had at least a little more sunshine and rainbows. 

        But all she felt was alone. Her friends were spread across the country, some still in her hometown and some littered here and there, but none had come with her to the school she’d chosen. She had many classmates, all acquaintances and nothing more. 

        This wasn’t what she’d expected, and she soon came to realize this wasn’t what she wanted. Her future career that she’d pretended was more important than anything now felt like her worst enemy. 

        But what hurt the most was that she’d left behind the love of her life to pursue it. 

        Rain, a weather she once loved, pounded outside her window with occasional strikes of lightning. Every flash lit up the room, the photos hung on the wall above her bed glowing each time. Behind the clouds she knew sat the moon, but it was invisible to her at this moment. 

        Still, her thoughts ran rampant. Opening her laptop, she signed in past a picture of Oikawa and her she’d never gotten around to changing and clicked on the search bar.

        23 hours and 20 minutes. Tickets upwards of $3,000. 

        A phone call wouldn’t do--she wanted to see him. Talk to him. Not allow him to ignore her like she was so dearly afraid he would. 

        She didn’t have the money or time now, but when she did….

        YN bookmarked the page for later.

                                ~~~

        For the first time in too long, the moon was full. And, as usual, Oikawa slid open his balcony door, leaving it cracked just a bit so he could slip back inside when he got too cold. Then he leaned his elbows against the wood railing, folding his hands and turning his face to the sky. 

        “YN, I don’t know if you remember, but it’s our anniversary today. Not when we started dating, no. It was the first time I ever got the guts to flirt with you. You know, when I shoved you on the playground and ran away for the first time.” His lips perked at the memory. 

        “God,” he snickered, “that was embarrassing. But I think we can both admit my flirting improved a lot.” 

        Running a hand through his hair, Oikawa sighed and gripped the railing just a bit tighter. Then he pursed his lips and swallowed. “I know I sound crazy, but I really do hope you do the same thing I’m doing right now. Even if you look insane doing it.”

        A knock sounded on his door just as Oikawa prepared to lean himself further on the rail, making him flinch. 

        Whipping his phone out of his pocket, he glared at the time. 12:57 am. 

        Who the hell…?

        More knocks urged him to return inside his home and jog over to the door. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” he gritted out, reaching the door and turning the knob. “Damn, you’re gonna wake up my whole-”

        The sight that met his eyes caused him to choke on his last words. 

        “YN.” 

        YN in a sweatshirt he’d given up searching for months ago. YN with backpack straps resting on her shoulders and a deer-in-headlights look on her face. 

        Neither spoke for what felt like hours, but was really a whole five minutes, just taking each other in. Heart pounding, Oikawa locked his eyes on her own, first taking in their usual, comforting shades of color he’d dreamed about too many times, then landing them on the bags underneath. He dragged his gaze down to her lips, parted, pink, and glistening from her tongue peeking out to lick them nervously. Down her neck (thankfully unmarked), to her chest where one of his very first volleyball tournaments’ titles greeted him, to her black pants, to her scuffed shoes. Overall unscathed, but that, to be honest, wasn’t truly what he was concerned about. 

        She’s here. She’s really here. 

        “Tooru, I-”

        When YN finally spoke, finally uttered his name in that beautiful way she did for the first time in too long, Oikawa’s gaze snapped to hers so suddenly she had to stop and take a breath. “I know you’re probably wondering why I’m here and why I look like crap and how I figured out where you lived and how I got here and why-”

        “YN.” Oikawa cut her off but never let her finish as he grasped her by both shoulders and yanked her into his apartment, crushing her against his chest as he kicked the door shut. 

        Warm and soft and plush like he remembered. His hands reached around and pressed flat into her back before balling up the cotton sweatshirt in his fists. Though Oikawa himself couldn’t breathe and he was certain YN couldn’t either, he couldn’t help but want her closer and closer to him. Though she was in his arms, she still felt too far away. 

        He dropped his head to her shoulder and turned his face into her neck, stray hairs tickling his nose as he nuzzled back and forth into her bare skin. 

        “Tooru,” she whispered gently, with a smile he could hear in her voice. “You’re probably wondering why I’m here.”

        “No,” he shook his head, hating that the movement caused her hands to stop brushing through the strands. “I’m not. Not right now.” He pressed a kiss to her skin before whispering, “I’m just glad you are here.”

        “But-”

        “No buts.” He pulled his face away from her neck to press his forehead against hers. Instantly, their breaths mingled just as they always had. If either of them moved even an inch closer, their lips would brush and that would be all it took. 

        “You need to know,” YN pulled away just a bit but, swiftly, Oikawa tugged her flush against him once more, each part of their bodies brushing like they always had, like they’d never stopped. The thundering of his heart almost drowned out her words--almost.

        She smiled, and her eyes twinkled like they always did when she looked at him, like they hadn’t done in a while. And her gaze softened and her body relaxed as she gave in to the truth of her own words. 

        “I can’t be happy without you, Tooru. I just can’t. Because,” she shook her head with a growing smile as her hands fell to his nape, “I don’t want my future to be one without you. You’re what I want, Tooru. All that I want.”

        And they brushed and Oikawa sunk into the beating of his own heart as her body and soul fell against him, drawing him in with the warmth and pleasure he knew he would never find without YN by his side. 

        When their lungs finally pleaded too much for air, Oikawa and YN surfaced with grins and happy tears, love filling the room in a wonderful way. 

        Leading her backwards, one hand cradling her head and the other clutching her hip, Oikawa peppered kisses across all of the bare skin he could find and then more when he searched farther. When her knees finally buckled against his bed and they both collapsed among the sheets, Oikawa let himself speak, sparingly. 

        “God, I missed you, YN.” His lips brushed along her chin reverently. “So, so much. I can’t stand not having you with me.”

        “Me too,” she sighs.

        “How?” He stops suddenly.

        “What?”

        He draws the hand behind her neck to her cheek, breathing heavily as he traces his thumb along her bottom lip. His eyes can’t seem to stop moving, heatedly taking in every inch of her. “How did you find out where I was?”

        This makes her release a breathy laugh before she brushes her nose against his. 

        “I heard you talking to the moon.”

I Wanna Build a Snowman (Oikawa x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Oikawa just wants to build a snowman on one of the coldest days of the year with his beloved girlfriend. What could go wrong?

A/N: Major fluff. Like...that’s it. That’s the warning. We’ve been getting assloads of snow where I am so I figured why not. Hope you like this domestic fluff!

Word count: 2264

        Something cold, soft and insistent hits you in the face. 

        “YN!... YNNNN!” Oikawa keeps whisper-yelling your name and patting the side of your cheek until you finally gather the energy to crack open an eyelid. 

        “Tooru,” you yawn, moving to sit up and rub the sleep from your blurred gaze, “whyyy?” The lights of yours and Oikawa’s bedroom are still off but the open curtains of your floor length window allow the white brightness flooding the space to blind you. 

        Huh, looks like the blizzard warning wasn’t a joke.

        The light zaps every ounce of energy right out of you as you struggle to stay conscious and you give in, flopping back despite Oikawa’s whines. 

        “No, no! YN, come on, let’s go outside!”

        “Are you insane?” you mumble into your pillow, rolling over only to be flipped right back.

        “Neither of us have any type of clothes equipped for that kind of weather. Just go back to sleep- oof.”

        A piece of clothing, pants by the feel of the starchy exterior, thwaps you in the face and incites enough anger inside you to wake you for revenge and nothing more. 

        “That’s why I bought those last night while I was out!” The bed shifts as Oikawa rises from the bed, giving you a show of skin as he strips off his night clothes and dresses in the newly purchased snow pants and boots. 

        “I swear to God if you don’t let me go back to sleep I’m to suffocate you with my pillow before sleeping on top of both of you.”

        “Well that’s vivid.”

        “It’s also very desirable right now.”

        Oikawa pouts, zipping up a puffy jacket to his chin before shoving a beanie on his head and dropping back onto the bed next to you. “Come on, YN! I wanna build a snowman!”

        “I swear to God if you start singing-”

        “Do you wanna build a snowm-mmphf!”

        A pillow thwaps Oikawa in the face and you drop back to the bed with a groan. “Fineeee, so long as you shut up and don’t ever sing that song again, I will go outside and build a snowman with you.”

        “Oh come on, it’s tradition!”

                                ~~~

        Okay, so maybe you weren’t a morning person and perhaps Oikawa had been right. Though the weather may as well have left you feeling stranded naked in the Arctic, passing up the opportunity to build a snowman with your boyfriend on one of the few days both of you had off together would have been a terrible decision. 

        Feeling like a toddler wrapped in twenty-ply toilet paper, you stumbled down the stairs of the complex and out into the freezing cold of nature. The snow pants and boots Oikawa bought for you sagged just a tad on your hips and you had to constantly readjust them with one gloved hand while the other held firmly onto your boyfriend’s as he led you out into the open space between the building and the parking lot. 

        Snow still fell in small bundles, settling into your hair and onto Oikawa’s hat, slowly and surely soaking in and freezing all at the same time. The sky was a chilled gray, the sun a distant glowing orb in the sky that could never overpower the precipitating clouds that laid claim on the sky. A wind brushed the stray hairs from your face and bit at your cheeks, bringing with more flakes that settled onto the tips of your lashes effortlessly. 

        Every footprint you and a grinning Oikawa left behind revealed there was a solid nine inches of snow that crushed the dark green grass underneath. A laugh left your companion as he tugged you farther along, barging through the piles of white that seemed reluctant to move. 

        “Okay,” Oikawa declared, turning back to you with a pink nose and cheeks as his breaths left puffs in the air. “What should we do first?”

        The childlike glimmer of excitement in your eyes made the smile on your face grow full-fledged. Then a devious thought came to your mind. “Well,” you tapped your chin in faux deliberation, pulling your hand out of his to set it on your hip, “I suppose we could…”

        Without another word, you pressed both hands on Oikawa’s chest and pushed as hard as possible, letting out a laugh at the split-second betrayed look on his face before his black-coated form disappeared in a cloud of snow. 

        It took him a second to recover as you went into hysterics, folding your arms around your stomach as you guffawed. Oikawa propped himself up on his elbows and blew a hair out of his face with a pout. 

        “You’re gonna pay for that.”

        And before you knew it, your open-mouthed laughter was interrupted with a choke as snow met your tongue and teeth. 

        Small clumps of flakes stuck to your forehead and chin as you gasped, trying to wipe away the cold in vain as Oikawa rose from the ground, two more snowballs already rounded off in his hands. 

        “Don’t start something you can’t finish, Tooru,” you warned, stepping back and keeping watchful eyes on both of his armed hands.

        “Oh, come on, babe.” Oikawa grinned a sly grin that told you you had awoken a beast. “You know I can’t let you off the hook after that.”

        And the battle commenced. 

        Somehow even in the freezing cold you were working up a sweat, ducking and dodging as many snowballs as you could while firing off your own. 

        Sometimes you would hit Oikawa in his long legs as he dove away from a throw and sometimes he would hit you back in the arms or chest while you hurried to build a fort to protect yourself. At a certain point, both of you had built fortresses that were each a solid three feet high. Oikawa had gone for the simple-yet-classic snow wall tactic while you crafted a small barrier as long as your wingspan that surrounded your front and sides, packing snow on top of solidifying snow while Oikawa occasionally knocked off a solid chunk that required you to handle damage control. 

        Your teeth began to instinctively chatter as the snow that hit your face melted off and slid down your jacket, soaking into Oikawa’s t-shirt underneath. Every so often you would have to tug your gloves back down after they slid up during your construction efforts, allowing cold clumps to stick to your skin and leave patches of irritated red in their wake. 

        But you were distracted for just a second too long playing defense and that was all Oikawa needed. 

        A shadow fell over your work as you began to carve a makeshift window in your fort, punching a hand through the thick wall of snow in order to keep an eye on your enemy as you worked--however, such efforts seemed futile as you slowly turned around to see a towering Oikawa with two armfuls of snow prepped and angled right over your head. 

        You had been too focused on your own shaky breaths and mutters that you haven’t even heard him army crawling behind you and gathering up an avalanche to bury you under. 

        “Oh shi-” flumph.

        Oikawa tipped his head back and released a maniacal laugh as snow piled in your lap and atop your head, making you look like the snowman he’d wanted to build this morning. 

        “Looks like I’ve won this war, YN,” he nodded to himself, dusting off his white-sprinkled blue pants and puffy jacket. “Though, to be fair, it was well fought. You must’ve just gotten too distracted by your opponent’s dazzling looks to notice he’d already trapped you in a corner, and nobody can blame you. I guess I’m just too-AGH!”

        In two seconds you went from partial abominable snowman on the frozen ground to tackling Oikawa to the ground and straddling his chest, dropping two handfuls of snow into his face as he screeched. 

        “What were you saying about victory, Tooru?” you sniggered, stealing the hat right off his head and pressing it onto your own. “Distracted opponent and whatnot? Kinda makes me wonder who really won this…”

        Oikawa coughed up a snowball as you used all your weight to roll off him and settle onto the floor next to him, just far enough away that you could spread your arms up over your head and down back to your side. Just as you worked to spread your legs and arms in synchronization to complete your snow angel, two folded arms dropped onto your stomach before a head plopped on top relaxedly, forcing a large cloud of air out of your mouth. 

        “I don’t know, babe,” Oikawa mumbled, adjusting right on top of you so he could lean over and draw patterns into the snow with a single finger right next to your other side. Each time he shifted, a bony elbow dug even harder into your stomach, forcing noises out of your mouth no different from the choking sounds of a floundering seal. “I really think we could call it a tie right here.” 

        With one dazzling smile sent your way, Oikawa moved so he was laying entirely on top of you, legs tangling with yours and all before he moved to straddle your hips. “Never,” you choked out, helplessly wiggling underneath him. “Ugh, get off me fatass.”

        “Hey! I’ve been watching my weight before the season!” He pressed a finger to your forehead after dodging every hand you tried to bat him away with. “I’ll have you know this is all muscle, but I don’t believe you need such proof after last night.”

        You gagged at the eyebrows he waggled at you before mustering enough energy to roll onto your stomach right underneath him and army crawl out, finally free from his weight. “Don’t be such a perv.” You rolled your eyes, standing up and staring down at him with your arms akimbo. 

        Oikawa’s lips curled up into a smirk as he rose to his feet, approaching you with eyes narrowed enough to have you waiting for his next words. “You know, you weren’t this shy last night either.”

        “Shut up!” You blamed the pink tint of your cheeks on the cold and smacked his arm, spinning away when he yelped in surprise. 

        “Hey!” When you kept your back to him, he huffed out a sigh and made his way closer to you, so close his entire body was pressed against you. Two arms slithered around your waist and a freezing nose traced a path up along the side of your exposed throat. 

        When you relaxed into his hold and leaned your head away to allow him more room to tease, Oikawa hummed in thought and pressed a kiss to the skin, hands tightening on your hips. 

        “Let’s go back inside, baby,” he murmured, peppering more and more pecks along your skin until he had enough of the back-to-front issue and spun you around, pressing his forehead against yours. Both of your puffs of air now mingled together as he spoke, his brown eyes trailing from your warm gaze to your red cheeks to the plump lips your tongue just couldn’t seem to leave alone. “We need to do something to… warm up.”

        The innocence that fell over your face, no matter how fake, made his jaw clench and his body grow still. 

        “But I thought you wanted to build a snowman?”

                                ~~~

        You shivered under the mounds of blankets on the bed, wearing nothing but the soaked hat on your head as Oikawa entered the room with only a sheet covering his bare form. Two steaming cups of hot chocolate piled high with marshmallows were held in his hands, one of which he held out to you after shutting the door to the bedroom and dimming the lights. 

        The sun outside was long gone, instead leaving the moon to shine and reflect off the layers of snow that you and Oikawa had ruffled up hours earlier. 

        You accepted the mug with a soft smile and scooted over, making room as Oikawa shrugged off the blanket completely, leaving himself uncovered to the cold still circling in the room. 

        “As much as I like your staring, YN, a wolf whistle is always appreciated every now and then.” 

        You only wiggled your brows and blew a kiss at him over your mug, giggling when he gawked and muttered “Perv” under his breath. 

        Oikawa wasted no time grabbing his own mug off the nightstand, settling in beside you with an arm wrapped around your hips to keep you curled into his side. As the movie began, he let out a long sigh and pressed two marshmallow-flavored lips to your forehead, grinning when you nuzzled in closer. 

        “Ugh, Frozen? Really?”

        “Shhh,” Oikawa whispered. “You’re gonna miss the song.” You could only roll your eyes and lay your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and soft humming to the music. 

        And as “Do You Wanna Build a Snowman” faintly played through the shining window of your apartment, two snowmen sitting just outside with pebbles for eyes and carrots for noses froze and solidified under the light of the stars, their makeshift twig arms still holding hands.

Pretending to Moan Another Guy’s Name (Haikyuu!! Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: Hehehe, I’m s i c k. Anyways, here’s a rly long headcanon that I’ve been thinking about writing for a while. Some are short and some are long, but hey, that’s life🤷‍♀️ Enjoy! (Side note: been a while since I did a milestone, but hey, this one’s huge--happy 4k y’all💜!!)

Word count: 2705

Oikawa Tooru: 

He’s dead silent, waiting to hear that name fall from your lips one more time just to make sure he wasn’t having a nightmare. 

“Ushiwaka…”

Nope. He wasn’t. He pinched himself five times to prove it. 

Oikawa can’t stand the thought of you dreaming about one of his greatest enemies. His hands curl into fists and his bottom lip gets drawn in by his teeth and, if you hadn’t been so busy trying to fend off your own laughter, you might’ve heard the small whine leaving the back of his throat. 

The bed shifts with Oikawa’s weight leaving it imbalanced and just when you prepare yourself to stop him in his tracks with a giggle, the bedroom door slams hard enough to rattle framed photographs of you and him on the walls. 

Okay… so maybe you had gone too far. 

Stunned into silence, it takes you a couple minutes to recover from your boyfriend’s outburst. When you finally find the strength to breach the cold air of one a.m. goosebumps rise along your skin and you decide to wrap a blanket around your shoulders. 

Lord knows damage control with Oikawa always required a solid chunk of time. 

You find him in the kitchen of the apartment, seated on a stool with his elbows propped on the oak-finished island with two fistfuls of hair and a downcast face. 

Unsurprisingly enough, your prank no longer felt like the genius idea you’d thought it was three hours ago. 

“Tooru?” Your voice is small so as to not disturb him, but his lack of movement makes you think you have almost been too successful in your efforts. 

“Tooru,” you move to lay your hand on his shoulder, “please.” However, the second you make contact he flinches away like you’d burned him. The room is silent once more, but as you keep your hand hovering over his back, you hear a quiet sniffle. 

Oh God, what have I done?

Without another word, you grasp both ends of the blanket and wrap both it and yourself around Oikawa, attaching yourself to his back with a tight enough grip that he can’t shake you off, which, trust me, he certainly tries his best. 

Like a fish out of water, he writhes and thrashes in your hold and in that split second that you think How the hell do I get him to stop this? he’s managed to wriggle himself so hard that the stool and you behind him lose balance, toppling to the floor like a Jenga tower. 

“Oh shit!”

Oikawa, ever so graceful, lands directly on top of you, his lean shoulders crashing hard enough into your chest that you wheeze out the oxygen trapped inside. The stool almost spun and clattered right on top of both of you before Oikawa kicked it away hard enough that it crashed against the metal fridge and slid all the way out into the living room. 

In the dead of night, the noises were loud enough to increase the ringing in your ears that had started when your head slapped against the linoleum floor. Oikawa was still squirming against you but for an entirely different reason now. 

“Fuck--YN, YN! Are you okay?” Still sitting on top of you, another breath gets squeezed out of your chest the second Oikawa rolls over to straddle you. One hand lifts your head, palming frantically at your scalp while the other shoves under your shirt to feel your ribs. 

“Could you,” you choke out, “get off me before I answer that?”

A startled scoff leaves his mouth before he slides off you and onto the floor at your side, helping you sit up while still trailing his eyes up and down your form to search for injury. Not that he could see much--the only light in the apartment was filtering through the kitchen window and came from the quarter moon in the sky. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” You bat away his hands but can’t stop your own from trailing up and rubbing your temples. “Are you okay?”

It didn’t take a genius to figure out his cheeks were damp with tears. From the way he sniffled to the way he blinked every .5 seconds, you knew tonight had been a sudden emotional roller coaster for him. 

“Yeah,” he glanced away nodding. “Yep, all good here.” 

“Bullshit.”

Oikawa gave you a scandalized stare and all you could do was sigh before scooting over to him, getting settled criss-cross style before palming both of his cheeks and yanking his face down to yours. 

“I know when you’re lying to me, Tooru, and I know exactly why you’re lying to me right now.”

His first instinct was to roll his eyes and pull away, but you pulled him back harder, hard enough that he flashed his wide eyes to yours in surprise. 

“It was a prank, babe.” Ah yes, the words that turn every boy into goo. 

Oikawa clenched his jaw and wrapped his hands around your wrists. “The “yanking me off my stool so I can crush your ribs” thing or the “I’m gonna moan your enemy’s name so you almost have a heart attack and cry enough tears to flood a river” thing?”

“The “I’m gonna moan your enemy’s name so you-’”

Oikawa slammed his lips against yours, effectively drowning out any of the dumb-ass explanations you had waiting on your tongue. 

“Your pranks are always so mean, baby,” Oikawa mumbles against your lips. “Do you know how much it hurt to think that you were dreaming about being with another man?”

“Did it even matter that it was-”

“No,” he pecks your lips once more before rising to his feet and tugging you to yours. “No, the name didn’t matter at all.”

“Well damn, that’s a shame, because I was stuck between moaning Ushiwaka or Kag-”

“Here’s the thing, sweetheart: I don’t wanna hear another name aside from my own come out of your mouth for the rest of the night. Understood?”

“I-”

“Understood?” You sigh. 

“Yes sir.”

Tsukishima Kei:

Ouch.

One long finger pokes into your cheek, hard.

You’d barely even gotten the first two syllables of the ginger’s name off your tongue before Tsukishima was at the ready, stabbing you in the face with a fingernail you were almost positive you’d seen being filed down just hours ago. 

Bastard must’ve been faking it.

“Don’t say that,” Tsukishima grunts out tiredly, accompanying a yawn with yet another jab. 

Part of you wondered if there was a point to even keeping up the act, but the other part was so pissed you almost wanted Tsukishima to worry that it was real. 

You mumbled the random nonsense of the average person waking from a deep slumber and opened your eyes just to squint at the blond in bed beside you. 

“Wha…?”

In pure darkness, you could barely see Tsukishima narrowing his gaze back at you, half because he was pissed and half because he was lacking his glasses. 

He thrusts a finger right in the middle of your forehead. “Don’t ever moan that name again.”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” You fake yawn, closing your eyes before rolling over to have your back face him. 

“I’m not stupid, YN.”

“Are you sure about that, Kei?”

He scoffs. “Fine, then. I’ll play along to this pointless game.”

The mattress quakes as Tsukishima shifts onto his knees, grabbing your hip with a single hand and tugging it hard enough that your back presses flat against the sheets before he throws a leg over your thighs, straddling you with ease. 

“Is this what you wanted?” One hand of his grabs yours, pulling it up above your head. Your breathing is more like gasping at this point as Tsukishima trails his other hand down your side. 

“Were you trying to make me so jealous that I’d do this?”

“Kei…”

“‘Cause, YN, you could’ve just asked.”

At last, your other wrist is trapped and joins the one over your head, Tsukishima’s long fingers easily holding down both of your hands with just one of his. 

“So, do you want to tell me what that shrimp did to you in this “dream” of yours?”

“Kei…” Was it so hard to pull a juicy reaction out of him? You wanted hugs, tears, maybe even a little begging. 

Of course, leave it to Tsukishima to always find a way to be above you. 

Tsukishima can see the fight die in your eyes and his own glow in return. 

“Really,” he hums, “that was all it took?”

“Jackass.” 

“Don’t be a sore loser, YN. Plus, we both know that prank of yours was impractical at best.” He slides off you, returning to his side of the bed and propping himself up on a single elbow to face you. “I’ve heard you moan my name plenty of times in your sleep to know when you’re actually having a wet dream.”

The smirk on his face makes you warm and fuzzy yet angry all at the same time. In retaliation, you jab a finger into his forehead before spinning face away from him once again. “Don’t get too cocky there, Kei. One day I might actually dream about another guy,” you fold your arms, “then what are you gonna do?”

Two arms wind around your stomach before yanking you back into a firm chest, then a single leg creeps between the two of yours. “Please, we both know I’m the only man you even think about.”

Though he sounded so self-assured, the tightness of his grip spoke differently. You reveled in the idea that he was just a bit self-conscious of that fact. Because although you’d never say it to his face...

The smug bastard was always right.

Tendou Satori: 

“Semi,” you moaned.

“Semi,” Tendou mocked. 

“Mmm, don’t stop.”

“Mmm, don’t stop.”

At first, you almost choked on the drool gathering in your mouth the instant you heard Tendou fake-moan along with you. 

Now, it was a contest of how long you could keep a straight face. 

All the lights were on in the room. The blinds were yanked open and the birds chirping out the arrival of morning tweeted from a tree just outside the window. 

You’d woken up when Tendou left to take a shower itching to prank him. At the time, it seemed perfect. 

Now your chest hurt with how much laughter you kept locked inside. The second he stepped out of the bathroom with steam rolling off his body, you decided it was time to put your plan in motion. 

Oh what a mistake it was. 

“More.”

“More.”

Tendou squated right next to your side of the bed, crossed both arms on the mattress just two inches from your face, dropped his chin on top and proceeded to parrot your every word. 

“Harder. More, please Semi.”

“Yeah, harder Semi, you grandpa-haired, shorter-than-me, cries-at-the-Titanic-movie, girlfriend-stealing son of a bitch.”

And just when you sputtered out a breathless laugh, Tendou rose from his crouch and stalked out of the room, towel wrapped over his head and shoulders like a black Sith robe. 

In the kitchen, pots and pans clattered like Tendou was trying to get the attention of the entire city, at one point even walking back and forth in front of the doorway slamming two frying pans against one another. 

“Oh no, I can’t find that spatula!” your boyfriend called out before proceeding to toss out every single appliance in the drawer, allowing them to clang and clash against the wood like they were literally raining from the ceiling. 

What was funny at first was now a major issue for the rest of the apartment complex--it seemed Tendou had gone mad enough that he was risking getting (yet another) noise complaint that would once and for all kick you both out of the building. 

Ever so in a rush, you slid out of the blankets and made haste toward the kitchen down the hall, stopping in the doorway and dropping your jaw at the sight. 

Tendou, maroon eyes flashing with jealousy, held a porcelain plate up over his head with the obvious intent to throw it against the ground and create an even bigger mess. 

Luckily, his eyes darted toward you at the last second. 

“Hey,” he grinned with eyes so wide and hair so frazzled you actually thought he’d gone insane for a split second, “look who’s up!”

“Satori…” you made your way over to him, precarious step by precarious step. Tongs, pizza cutters, and ice cream scoopers littered the floor while all of your pots and pans lay on the countertop in a pile almost up to Tendou’s shoulder, “what the hell is going on?”

His smile faltered for a second before it came back even larger than normal; his eyes, however, stayed darkened. “Just trying to make breakfast! But I couldn’t find that damned griddle we use for pancakes.”

“Probably because we threw it out four months ago.” Uh oh, you’d finally broken him. 

“Oh…”

“Yeah…”

The pandemonium in the kitchen was nothing compared to the frantic look in Tendou’s eyes, though. They flitted up and down, up and down along your body, looking for something you were almost positive wasn’t there. 

Then he spoke. 

“So… how did you sleep?”

Tense. Tight. Deep. The question sounded like someone had strangled it out of him, and you didn’t dare glance up from collecting the appliances littered on the floor for fear of seeing the pain in his eyes. 

“Satori… I’m really sorry.”

“For what?” With arms full of disarrayed utensils, you hesitantly looked towards the sink where you aimed to drop them off, only to find Tendou bent over and waiting to meet your eyes. The words had slipped off his tongue right as you finished your sentence. 

“The moaning… like, when I moaned Semi’s name and stuff.” Maintaining eye contact at this point was basically impossible for you and instead you settled for watching your feet as they shifted your weight nervously. “It was just a prank and I didn’t think it would get to you so bad. I’m sorry. Really.”

The atmosphere in the room grew ten times stiffer, almost choking you up--you never thought such a thing was possible with a relaxed guy like Tendou present. 

Evidently, you were wrong. 

“It was all a joke?”

“Yes.”

“Like, it was just a prank?”

“Yes.”

“To see how I’d react and stuff?”

“Yep.”

“Phew,” Tendou pressed a hand against his forehead and let out a laugh. “Almost lost my cool there.”

Your jaw dropped to the floor and you glanced around at the kitchen. Tendou didn’t seem to mind your temporary shock, though, as he guided you over to the sink to dispose of the utensils before wrapping you in a hug. “Don’t ever,” he grumbled, voice suddenly deeper and huskier, “ever do something like that again.” Then he pulled away. “Now,” Tendou grinned, “how’s about we go out for breakfast?”

You stayed frozen in place, eyes flitting from the floor to Tendou’s suddenly normal smile back to the floor again. 

Then you kicked him in the shin. 

“Ow, what the hell was that for?!”

You sputtered out a laugh from deep in your chest that was bordering on maniacal. “Oh-ho no, I am so not cleaning up this mess. That’s your problem, mister.” Then you pressed a small kiss to his cheek. “I will, however, go pick us up some breakfast and bring it back here though.”

Then you yanked him into a hug and forced his ear to your lips, lowering your tone deeply and darkly. “And this place better be spotless when I come back.” You pulled back with a smile before skipping to the front door and Tendou could only watch with a gleaming grin on his face. 

God, he loved you.

“You better not be going to see Semi while you’re out!” He received the bird in return.

“Love you too, babe!”

Maid for Him (Oikawa x Reader/Slight Yandere)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: You were his maid. His lover. His life. He simply couldn’t let that sleazy visiting prince anywhere near you.

A/N: Hey guys. I know it’s been a while, and I’m really sorry. Life has really been kicking my ass lately, and I don’t want to let y’all down, but I just need a little more time between posts. Again, I am really sorry I haven’t been as active. But hey, thank you so much for 700 followers while I was gone! I hope you enjoy this Yandere Oikawa imagine to celebrate!

Word count: 1764

        Everything seemed dustier than usual. The sun shone brightly through the stained glass windows, and fell upon the grimy, priceless tables. Artifacts from all over the world, vases, paintings, weaponry and more, were all covered in the fine particles. 

        Oikawa brushed a finger over an especially neglected sword and smirked at the gray filth left on the tip. 

        Oh, my little YN, are you neglecting your duties again? I suppose I’ll just have to punish you.

        A snicker left him at the thought, and he continued down the halls to find you, dressed in that cute little maid uniform you wore. He was clothed just the way you liked him; in his riding gear and fresh from the showers, preparing to go to the stables. But he just had to see you first. 

        “Where are you, love?” he muttered under his breath, brown orbs darting back and forth through the velvet-lined corridors. An occasional ray of warmth brushed over his form with every confident stride past the windows. It was silent for ages, and the residual scent of this morning’s breakfast still hung in the air. Sweet-berry covered pancakes combined with the freshest maple syrup accepted as a gift from the visiting kingdom. 

        It had been almost as delicious as you. 

        Oikawa tsked at every empty room he passed, a sneer growing larger and larger on his face. All of them were filled with at least one servant, but not a single one was you. 

        “Where the hell are you?” he seethed through gritted teeth. 

        His bedroom. Nothing. 

        The dining room. Nothing. 

        The throne room. Nothing. 

        Even the library was vacant of your presence. A nauseating pressure welled up in his throat. You didn’t… leave, did you? 

        No. You would never. You loved him too much. 

        Just as he loved you. 

        So where the hell were you?

        After rubbing his temples, Oikawa shook his head to clear his thoughts. Surely you were somewhere nearby. 

        “Please don’t.”

        Like right there.

        Your nervous tone echoed from within a guest room of the castle. He rushed toward the familiarity like a cat after a mouse, leather boots stomping against the floor rapidly. 

        “Oh come on, sweetheart. I saw the way you were looking at me this morning.” A slimy, greasy, disgusting voice responded to you. The prince from the neighboring kingdom. Oikawa charged faster to the door, until he was practically sprinting throughout the castle. Arriving at the cracked door, he paused only to peer inside at the sight. 

        You, in that horribly revealing uniform, with a feather duster in your hand. Your face was flushed, your eyes were wide, and your body seemed to be trembling with fear. Every few seconds, you shifted your weight from side to side, gripping the bottom of your short, black and white skirt with white knuckles. 

        The good-for-nothing bastard who towered over you sniggered at your nervousness. He stood in the center of the room, his arms itching to reach out for you as he slowly backed you closer and closer to his four-poster bed. The so-called prince was trying to make a move on you. 

        That would not be tolerated. 

        “I was only offering you orange juice,” you stuttered. Dread painted your face, and every word you spoke accompanied a frantic tremble of your delicate lips. Oikawa’s nostrils flared, but he stayed hidden, ready to pounce when the moment called. 

        “I know you were offering so much more than that.” The foreign prince stepped closer and stretched out a hand, snagging a strand of your hair and rolling it between his finger tips. You flinched as he did, and cringed at the feeling of his alarming proximity. You weren’t moving, or even breathing, and you looked about ready to faint. The prince, standing a good head taller than you, took this as a go-ahead however. 

        His black, curly hair lowered over his blazing eyes, and you clenched your own tightly shut at the feeling of his hot breath falling over your face. The finger twirling your strands stopped, only to drag down the side of your paled cheek.

        “I’ll show you a good time.”

        “Please don’t.” His body drew closer to yours. 

        “Just let me-” 

        Slam!

        With a ferocious kick to his gut, the prince went flying into his decorative bookshelf, causing the first two rows of novels and other decorations to topple onto his head. If looks could kill, the man would already be six feet under as Oikawa lowered his leg, grinding his jaw and heaving his chest up and down. Running a swift hand through his brown locks, your savior let a relaxed smile fall onto his face at the sight of the prince’s gashed forehead.

        “That’s no way to treat our workers,” the brunet spat, reaching blindly for you while delivering the offender a paralyzing glower. “Don’t ever let me see you around YN again.” When his hand met yours, he snatched your wrist and dragged you out of the room, leading you outside and away from the scene. 

        After you tugged on his hand in effort to get him to slow, Oikawa dug his heels into the rich carpet of the halls and swiveled back to you. His endless brown orbs searched you up and down for any signs of disturbance or corruption, and only found tears swimming in your eyes. You bit your bottom lip, but bowed your head respectfully nonetheless. 

        “Thank you so much, your majesty. I don’t want to think about what could’ve happened if you hadn’t been there to save me.” 

        The prince rolls his eyes and scoffs, tugging you into a bone-crushing hug and forcing your head into his shoulder. “How many times do I have to tell you to drop the stupid titles?” After a long moment, you giggle softly against his skin and wrap your arms around him, relaxing into his hold. 

        “Sorry, Tooru,” he felt you grin when he sighed in relief, and the act made him giddy, “I was worried someone would hear.” 

        “I don’t care. Maybe I want them to hear.” You pulled back and smacked his chest at the thought, but Oikawa didn’t care. You gave him your signature raised brow and opened your mouth to lecture him about “keeping your relationship under wraps” as per usual, only to be stopped by him pressing a finger to your lips. The feeling of you, no matter how small, almost made him groan in pleasure, but he held back, knowing you both needed to discuss what had happened. 

        The playful glow in his eyes darkened into a more serious tone, and one of his hands reached up, brushing your hair out of your face before cupping your red cheek. The other interlocked his fingers with your own, and he ran a thumb along the skin of your knuckles. You had dropped your feather duster a long while ago back in the room, so you were free to press your other hand over the one against your face. 

        “Are you okay?” he mumbles tightly, his gaze scanning over your body carefully once more. He doesn’t know what he would do if that man had hurt you. Actually….

        “I’m fine, but you’re about to break my fingers, so could you…” you trailed off and raised his grip into his view, displaying his suffocating grip. Oikawa let go in an instant, and his heart panged at the thought of hurting you. God, what was I thinking? Oikawa grimaced, digging his fingernails into the soft flesh of his palm. 

        “I’m so sorry.”

        While blood oozed from his wounds, you smiled gently at him and shook your head, dismissing his apology. “It doesn’t matter,” his chest fluttered at the words, “I’m just glad you were there, Tooru.” He almost whimpered at the name. 

        Oikawa’s body shivered in excitement as you drew closer, at last pressing your lips against his in a swift, loving kiss. 

        His muscles ached to trap you against him, keep you there for longer than the five seconds you had allowed, but he knew better than that. Anything more that barely-there touches in the halls, and he would frighten you away. 

        He couldn’t risk it.

        You pulled away just barely, letting your breaths brush his lips in the most intimate way as you let your eyes close, presumably to relish in the sensation. You felt the sparks of true love just as he did. He just knew it.

        He couldn’t lose you. He won’t lose you.

                                ~~~

        The door to his chambers clicked open, and Oikawa snarled at the interruption. He couldn’t stay mad for too long though. You were passed out with your head on his lap, sleeping contentedly. You were obviously worn out from the day’s events, and what better person to take care of you than the love of your life? The prince simpered at the thought, brushing his hands through your wild locks and leaning his back against his headboard.

        “Your majesty-”

        “Be quiet,” he hissed, hurling both knights a glare. When his gaze returned to you, it filled with adoration as he ran the pad of his index finger down the bridge of your nose faintly. You mewled under your breath and snuggled closer into his lap, still not waking. Oikawa cooed at the sight, and scratched your scalp with the tips of his fingernails. You always loved the feeling in your sleep; it was one of many things he knew about you.

        “Your majesty,” the first knight whispered, quieter this round. His gaze stayed locked on his liege, knowing that if it strayed south even once, the consequences would be dire. “What do you want us to do with the prince?”

        Oikawa’s lips quirk up and his expression softens. Ever so fondly, he strokes your supple cheeks with the back of his hand and leans down to peck your smooth forehead. As he drifts away a few inches from your undisturbed face, he hums serenely, enjoying the content atmosphere of the room.

        “Kill him.”

The Miracle of Childbirth (Oikawa x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Yours and Oikawa’s children were the most amazing creatures on Earth… except when they acted like munchkin-sized pain in the asses. 

A/N: Here’s a little imagine to celebrate 500 fUcKiNg followers, like holy shit!! Goddamn that’s amazing tysm :)))! (Also, it hasn’t actually happened yet, but I’m like two followers away so I’m gonna count it cuz I’ll be busy tomorrow.)  It’s more Oikawa shit bc he’s just a hot piece of flat ass, and I’m dying for more domestic stuff w him. I got it from this prompt by @otpdisaster​, so enjoy!

Word count: 880

        There was no greater feeling than when you first looked into your twin children’s eyes while lying in your hospital bed. They were your shade, but had the long, curled lashes of their father. Aiko already had Tooru’s smug smirk down, and Reo had his brown tufts. 

        “They’re beautiful,” you had whispered, cooing softly when Reo wrapped his miniature fingers around your pinkie. Tooru nodded softly at your bedside, cradling your little girl in his arms and smiling down at her. 

        “They’re perfect,” he mumbled back, running a gentle thumb over her cheek. “They’re gonna be the best volleyball players on this side of the world.” You giggle lightly and shake your head while brushing over your boy’s fuzzy scalp, hugging his swaddled form closer to your chest. 

        “I’m sure.” You sigh happily as your husband pecks Aiko’s forehead, causing her to let out a small huff. 

        Every chubby little foot, every puffy tummy was gorgeous in your guys’ eyes. Nothing they could ever do would ruin the way you viewed them as the lights of your lives. They were nothing short of miracles. 

        Except for when they acted like little gremlins. 

        “WE CAPTURED THE DEMON!” You pause at the words and stare confusedly at the door. With a furrowed brow, you unlock your home and step inside, only to see a literal nightmare. 

        Stray pillows and blankets were splayed everywhere in your living room. The couch was cushionless and there was a homemade fort in the center of it all. It was primarily supported by four dining chairs dragged out onto the lounge’s carpet, but had a barrier that consisted of the sofa’s fundamental sections and stuffed animals from the children’s rooms. Two hefty comforters overlapped above its foundation and stood as an accessible entrance to the inside. 

        Both Aiko and Reo ran circles around the fortress with victorious war cries, waving their nerf guns wildly above their heads. “We captured the demon! We captured the demon!” Their yells echoed throughout the whole house as they scrambled up the stairs, presumably to grab more ammo. You, throughout all of this, had watched in a mixture of horror and amusement. 

        “Tooru?” you called out, glancing around the house for any sight of your husband. 

        “Mmmpf mmpf!” A muffled voice hummed from within the fort. Releasing a heavy sigh, you set down your keys and purse on the coffee table before kneeling down on the carpet. You crawl on your hands and knees to the fort, pushing aside a blanket and peering in. The sight before you was almost laughable. 

        Surrounded by a barrage of nerf darts and duct taped to a flimsy tea party chair was Tooru, gagged with a bundled pair of socks. Glitter sparkled in his brown hair and one plastic dart stood like a unicorn horn from his head while he frowned at you. 

        You could only smirk. “Need a little help?” He narrows his eyes, throwing a lazy glare your way. . 

        “Plugh,” he spits out the sock, “Welcome home.” 

        “Gee thanks,” you snicker before gesturing up and down at him. “So what, uh, what happened here?”

        “Our children might become criminals.” He shakes his head wildly to loosen his forehead decoration, but it sticks like a piece of gum on the underside of a table. Tossing his head back in frustration, he lets out a loud groan before wiggling his captivated form at you. “You mind?”

        “I guess I must.” You decide to show him pity and unwrap his hands, snorting when you rip off some arm hair. 

        “Owwie!” he pouts while rubbing his wrists, rising up from the plastic pink chair. After flicking away the nerf dart, you lead the way back into the outside world and Tooru squints at the change in lighting. 

        “How long were you in there?”

        “Too long,” his eyes are haunted while he stares disorientedly at the wall. “I can’t believe my own children think I’m a demon.”

        “Yeah, well, I’m the evil mom who won’t buy them McDonald’s every night. We all got problems.” As daily tradition, you peck his lips softly before walking into the kitchen to prepare dinner. 

        “What’s on the menu tonight?” He follows you and winds his arms around your waist, settling his chin on your shoulder while you sift through the cupboards. 

        “Green bean casserole.”

        Two gasps sound from behind you. 

        “Oh no, they’re both demons now!” Reo exclaims.

        “GET ‘EM!” Aiko shouts, and suddenly you’re being used as a human shield while Tooru screeches behind you in terror. Neft darts begin hit you in savory and unsavory places, and one even pokes you in the eye before-

        “Hey, look, now Mommy’s a unicorn too!”

Across the Hall (Oikawa x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Across the hall lived Oikawa, a smug womanizer who never knew how to confront his one-night stands after their five minutes of fame. To avoid confrontation, he repeatedly seeks refuge in your apartment, or in his case, in your bed. But what happens when you start to grow feelings for this amorous neighbor of yours?

A/N: (It’s not five am! Yay me!) This is an au prompt called “You live across the hall and you hide in my apartment when you want to avoid your one-night stands” I got from this list. My god, I wanted this to be so much better than it actually was. If even a single person likes this, I will be eternally grateful. I sincerely hope you guys like this one! 

Word count: 5678

        Your apartment complex was filled with… a different kind of people. The tenants below you, one ginger and one blunet, bickered like no other. Meanwhile, the renters above you, one with a buzzcut and one with black hair and a bleached tuft, constantly watched and fawned over Next Top Model. It was all weird, but the most curious one of all was the man who lived across from you. 

        He was a womanizer with no sense of personal space, and constantly holed up in your apartment to wait out his one-night stands. Over the months, you two became friends, and while you repeatedly offered to let him hide and rest in your spare bedroom, he never seemed to appreciate the offer. Instead, he had a tenacious habit of crawling into your bed space and wrapping his arms around you with the claim that he couldn’t sleep without cuddling something. No matter how many pillows you chucked at him, you seemed to be his most favorite teddy bear.

        Tonight was no different, and your heart fluttered when he pulled you tighter into his chest. He had woken you up instantly, and he was lucky that you were too tired to be pissed off by the act. 

        “Oikawa,” you mumble lazily, rubbing the tiredness away from your eyes, “you know I only gave you that key for emergencies, right?”

        “But this is an emergency, YN. The girls never leave unless I’m not there when they wake up.”

        “Then maybe you should stop hooking up with random women.”

        “I don’t see the issue.”

        “Mhm,” you hum, rolling over in his embrace and yawning in his face. He gags at the smell and you smirk. “You know there’s a perfectly good couch for you to sleep on, right?”

        “It’s extremely uncomfortable, I can’t stand that thing. I don’t know why you bought it.”

        “Okay, then what about my spare room?” 

        “I’ve slept in there too! And trust me, nothing is more comfortable than this bed right-” Oikawa’s ranting is cut off by a frantic knock on your door. With a sigh, you nod your head towards the hall of your apartment and raise a brow. 

        “Is that tonight’s expedition?” He gives you a bashful smile.

        “Possibly.” Rolling your eyes, you scramble out of your bed and trudge out of your room. The banging is about to rip your door right off its hinges. As it shivers from the force, Oikawa trails timidly behind you and peeks over your shoulder at the sight. 

        “What, did you bang a pro-wrestler or something?” You’re judging him so hard right now. 

        “Ugh, YN. So unfeminine. I don’t ‘bang,’ I make love.” 

        “To a rhino?” You watch with wide eyes as your front door trembles before approaching it slowly. 

        “Maybe.” Oikawa opts to cower behind the island in your kitchen, which is adjacent to the entrance of your apartment and in a perfect position for him to not be spotted. 

        “Wonderful,” you mutter, hesitantly placing a hand on the knob and opening the barricade to the beast. “Can I help you?” you ask, plastering on a fake smile.

        Your neighbor’s one-night stand looks like she just stepped out of a magazine. With wavy blonde hair and long, tan legs, she seemed like the type to squash men under her designer stilettos and not bat an eye. Exactly his type.

        “Yes, I’m looking for my… boyfriend Tooru,” she glances inside your apartment suspiciously, getting a little too close for comfort. “Have you seen him?”

        “Umm, nope. Haven’t seen him.” You boredly blink at her and keep a hand on the door just in case she tries to barge inside. 

        “Well, if you do, could you tell him Sakura is looking for him?” She flashes you a dazzling smile that almost burns your irises.

        “Sure.”

        “Thanks! I’ll see you around!” Waving goodbye, she disappears inside the apartment across from yours, presumably to relocate her clothes from the night before. 

        “Not likely,” you mumble gruffly, slamming the door. You step into your kitchen only to find Oikawa casually eating a bowl of cereal on a stool at your counter. He shoots you an incredulous look.

        “She didn’t see me, right?!”

        “Oh no, of course not.” You snatch the breakfast away and munch on a bite of Cheerios. “Your girlfriend didn’t notice you stealing my food out in the open like a buttnugget.”

        “I am not a ‘buttnugget’! And I’d prefer you not speak with your mouth full.” You stick your tongue out at him and he grimaces at the bits of chewed food still visible. “Nasty. Anyways, she’s not my girlfriend.” 

        “I guess you’re right,” you shrug, plopping onto a stool next to his, “she’s more like the love of your life.” You waggle your eyebrows at him and he scoffs while pushing your shoulder playfully. 

        “Not in a million years.” He rises from his seat and smoothly presses his ear to the door before checking the peephole. “Coast is clear. You should probably go back to bed, YN. Get some more of that beauty rest you so desperately need.”

        “Bite me,” you grumble around a mouthful of cereal. 

        “I just might.” With a wink, he disappears out into the hall and back into his own home. The feeling of disappointment when he left wasn’t unknown to you, but you didn’t want to mull over it right now. Instead, you purse your lips and stand to wash the now-empty bowl, catching a glimpse of your clock on the way. 

        “Three a.m! What the fuck?!” Now that you know, the darkness outside your windows makes a lot more sense. Fortunately, it’s a Saturday, and it’s also not the first time Oikawa has required your help in fending off his nighttime companions. You’re used to it, but that doesn’t mean you don’t ream his ass about it every time you’re a little more conscious and awake. 

        “Goddamnit Oikawa.”

                                ***

It happens again, and again, and again. And every time it does, your feelings for him grow just a bit more, weirdly enough. On those early mornings that you wake up to him sliding into your bed and winding himself around you, you can’t help but wish it was for an entirely different reason. Sadly, reality was that he was just trying to escape his nightly mistakes. 

        Some days, you rouse to the smell of bacon wafting into the room. Others, he slips in and out before you even stir, leaving only a couple pancakes and a thank you note in his wake. 

        It’s been more than a year of this. A year of your apartment being used as a hideout, and of you being used as snuggly aftercare. Finally, you’ve decided you’ve had enough. You made a plan to confess at Christmas while you exchange gifts. 

        “Oh wow!” You hold up the hand-written slip of paper with an amused smile. It had been packaged in several wrapped cardboard boxes, and you had spent twenty minutes removing and ripping open one after the other while Oikawa busted a gut. “A limited time coupon for one free booty call!” You shake your head with a small chortle while he snickers at the gift. 

        “I even laminated it.”

        “Yes, yes you did,” you snort, flapping the “coupon” in the air. Holiday music plays softly in the background and you're both wrapped in blankets. A televised campfire crackles on the screen behind Oikawa, and the only thing brightening up your living room is the medium-sized, ornamented tree near the two of you, tinging the air with the scent of spruce and cinnamon. 

        “All right, I suppose I’ll save this for later.” You slip his gift under your thigh and hand him your own, in a red and green bag with tissue paper sticking out the top. “Now open mine!” 

        He smiles and digs his hand inside, crinkling around while he guesses, “Is it… a blanket?”

        “Nope.”

        “Is it… a t-shirt that says ‘I’m with stupid’?”

        “No, you jerk!” You laugh and smack his knee. “Just open it!”

        “If it’s worse than my gift, you totally owe me.” 

        “That’s literally not possible.” He gasps dramatically at you and finally pulls out the clothing. It’s a sweatshirt you had made especially for him. On the front was the logo for Boys’ Volleyball Nationals, and his eyes gleam in delight. Then he flips it around and reads the back. 

        “‘Number One Spectator’?!” He gawks at you in offense and you can’t hold back your giggles. While you crack up, he repeatedly glances between you and the sweatshirt with a pout. 

        “You totally owe me for this, YN!” 

        “I can’t! Oh, this is too good!” you guffaw, wiping tears away from your eyes. Suddenly, Oikawa tackles you to the floor, both hands beginning to attack your sides in a flurry of tickles. 

        “Oh shit!” you screech, twisting back and forth to try and escape. Your attempts are futile. 

        “Say you’re sorry!” One of his hands capture both of your wrists and hold them above your head so you couldn’t fight him. 

        “Never!” Your flabs ache while you wheeze out the occasional laugh. 

        “You’re so mean, YN!” He scolds with a wagging finger before instantly assaulting your exposed sides once more. “Just say your sorry!”

        “Okay, okay! I’m sorry!” you cry out with a giggle, gulping in large amounts of air when he finally stops. 

        “You’re forgiven,” he nods with a lopsided grin, still holding your hands hostage. A long moment passes as you relax and catch your breath, his gaze never leaving your flushed face, but when you can finally think properly again, you realize the compromising position you both are in. 

        He’s straddling your hips, one pressed against each side while his face leers over your own. Never before have you noticed just how dark his brown eyes are, and you can’t help but spot the occasional gold fleck while you lose yourself in them. With a gulp, you rub your thighs together and lick your lips. The action instantly grabs his attention, and Oikawa tightens his grip on your wrists before slowly lowering himself closer to you. A small part of you wants to wait, wants to let your relationship grow stronger, but the rest of you yearns to live in the moment and enjoy it while you have the chance. You pick your side, and clasp your eyes shut to brace yourself. Then it happens.

        There’s no explosions or fireworks like the books, but every single one of your nerves twinge with sparks. His lips are soft as they gently caress your own, taking their time to memorize the feeling. His brunet locks brush against your forehead and he carefully releases his hold on you, trailing his hands down to cup your cheeks while his tongue begs for entrance. Losing yourself in the moment, you allow it access, teasing and battling him for dominance with your own while you tenderly dig your fingers into his hair, combing and tugging on the strands as the kiss grows more heated. You separate for just a split second and Oikawa doesn’t stray far. In an instant, he’s biting and sucking on the smooth skin along your chin, using one arm to support himself over you while the other angles your head perfectly for his lips. Pain mingles with pleasure as his teeth graze and nip your delicate flesh. 

        “Tooru,” you whimper, and he grunts deeply in response. You yank on his tangled tufts harder, mewling his name repeatedly while he moves lower to leave love bites up and down your neck. He pecks the bruises soothingly and groans at the feeling of your hands pulling harshly in reaction to the sting. 

        “What do you want, YN?” He coos, words whispered against your skin. The sensation leaves you writhing beneath him. 

        “You.” 

                                ***

        That night, the coupon was left forgotten on the floor, but its offer had been used.

        The next day, you picked it up with a sniffle and dumped it into the trash while you gathered your clothes from around the living room. Like every other girl he had been with, he left during the middle of the night. 

        Unlike the mornings where you were shaken awake by him holding you close, you were all alone while viewing the sunrise through your blinds this time. 

        With puffy cheeks, you made yourself some instant coffee and downed it, ignoring the burn and the fresh numbness of your tongue now. You breathe out shakily and set the empty mug in the sink before preparing to take a shower. Every one of your movements was passively lifeless. Each footstep dragged against the floor, and every heartbeat in your chest pained you. 

        Under the scalding water, you scrubbed away the memory as best as you could, leaving your skin raw and aching, but you could still feel a semblance of his touch.

        In the mirror, purple blemishes littered every inch of your body from your chin to your calves. The sight of them reminded you of what exactly had scared him off. 

        His head was buried in the back of your neck as he nibbled on the skin there. You sighed happily, reveling in the afterglow of your love-making while relaxing further into the bed. Ever so slowly, you trail a hand down to your hips and interlock your fingers with his own, leading him to peck your nape gently. 

        “I love you,” you confess quietly. It was the heat of the moment, and you couldn’t help yourself. His body tenses behind you and his hand squeezes yours tightly for just a second. 

        “Oh.” The word, if that’s what it was, doesn’t sink in, and you fall asleep with a small smile on your face, pressing your back against his chest comfortingly. 

        At the time, you didn’t know. You had finally been with the man you loved, and he didn’t return your feelings. You wanted to be angry, enraged, or vengeful, but you were just sad. Ashamed of yourself and what you had done the night before. 

        In the past, you thought you meant more to Oikawa than his one night stands. You had seen the fake smiles he put up around them, and they never compared to the authentic grins he gave you. He joked with you, opened up to you, spent time with you and always seemed to want you around. Oh, how wrong you were to believe he would feel the same. 

                                ***

        Your employers weren't exactly okay with the fact that you had skipped about a month of work to wallow in self-pity, so they fired you. This unfortunate fact led you to search for a roommate, someone who could help you pay the rent while you job-hunted. You got an offer, and today he was moving in. 

        “YN?!” A familiar voice echoed from your apartment’s hallway, followed by a knocking on wood. “YN?!”

        “Oikawa?” You hesitantly make eye contact with him while hauling your groceries up the stairs. He’s in front of your door surrounded by cardboard boxes, and his face looks flushed with distress. 

        “YN, are you moving out?!” It’s the first time he’s talked to you since he left, and you want to beat the crap out of him with the hope that it would quell the pain. It won’t work, you know that, but you figure it’d be worth a shot.

        “No,” you clench your jaw and avoid his panicked gaze, “I got a new roommate.” 

        “Oh.” The look on his face falls, but so does every other emotion he had been displaying. Crossing his arms, he nods in understanding while observing the boxes of personal belongings around him. “That makes sense.”

        “Yeah, so uh… I guess I don’t really have to tell you this, but you can’t really hide out in my spare room anymore,” you shift on your feet, “You know, if you wanted to.”

        “Oh,” he repeats, and a muscle twitches in his jaw. “Okay.” 

        Awkward silence falls in the hallway, and you gulp while shifting awkwardly on the final stair to your apartment level. 

        “S-so,” he stutters before clearing his throat, “who’s your roommate?” 

        “Oh, his name is-” With perfect timing, your new roomie whips open the door to your home and grabs another cardboard box, completely dismissing the existence of the brunet across from him. 

        “Ushiwaka?!”

                                ***

        Your new roommate wasn’t exactly a bundle of fun. And for some reason, whenever he was caught in the hall with Oikawa, the latter would verbally attack him like a rat on a Cheeto. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you had a distant memory of your neighbor complaining about a man like Ushijima. You had both been on your couch, drinking wine and just talking about life when he suddenly grew angry at the memory of a man who “pissed him off like no other.” 

        In a way, you understood why; they were complete opposites. One was smug and social, while the other was more laid-back and reserved. Fate must have been on your side. Of course your new roommate would be the mortal enemy of the man who had broken your heart. Things were looking up, and it felt good to see Oikawa jealous, no matter how petty it sounded. You were heart-broken. Screw playing nice.

        “Hey YN?” Ushijima’s deep voice boomed from within his bedroom. The sudden holler made you jump from where you had been reclining on your couch, binging a new Netflix series. 

        “Yeah?” 

        “Can you take out the trash today? I have to get to practice.”

        “Sure, I got it.” After hopping off your sofa with a deep sigh, you plugged your nose with one hand and grabbed the trash bag in the kitchen with the other, kicking your way outside and into the hall. 

        “I’ll see you later snookums!” A feminine tone chimed from behind you. 

        “Heh, wonderful.” Oikawa. He must have a new lady friend. “Can’t wait, okay byeee!” His words were desperate and rushed as you pivoted to see him ushering a girl with her heels in her hands down the stairs. Wasn’t that… oh what’s her name… Sakura! When she disappears from his sight, he face palms and groans loudly. 

        “Still having trouble kicking ‘em to the curb?” you snort, rolling your eyes. While you throw your trash down the chute in the hall, Oikawa sighs. 

        “Umm sort of, actually. I just… I don’t know.” He sounds confused and broken. For some odd reason, you almost want to comfort him. “YN.” A hand drops on your shoulder and urges you to turn around. You do, and regrettably so. 

        His body language doesn’t show it, but deep in his eyes, there’s an emotion you desired from him weeks ago. No. “Things aren’t the same anymore. And I think I’ve figured out why.”

        “No.”

        “YN, please just let me explain.”

        “No, Tooru!” His name slips from your lips before you can stop it. “You don’t get to do that!” Your heart is racing in an instant and his nostrils flare. 

        “YN, I love you!”

        “I don’t care!” 

        A painfully long silence follows after your shout. The three words you’ve always wanted to hear from him echo in your head. He loves me. He loves me. Yes, but it didn’t matter. What he’s done… it was unforgivable. Leaving you like every other woman he’s been with. You thought you two were friends, that he wouldn’t treat you like that. But he did, and no matter how he felt now, he had to feel your pain. 

        “You… don’t care?” His lower lip trembles and his voice cracks. You quirk your mouth nervously and shake your head. 

        “Oikawa,” you mutter, “if you really loved me, why did you treat me like the rest?” 

        He stares at you for a while, frozen in shock. The hall grows ten times colder and suddenly it’s hard for you to breathe. You had to get out of there. 

        Spinning on your heel, you hurry back into your apartment, closing and locking the door just as you felt his fingertips reach and brush your elbow. 

        “YN! Wait!” 

        “YN? Are you okay?” Ushijima towers over your form, which had slumped to the ground against the wall. Tears prick your eyes, and you couldn’t remember the last time someone had asked you that question. He meant it too, there was a concern in his gaze you yearned for. 

        “No,” you croak out, using the door to help you stand with wobbling knees. The wood shivers beneath your hand from the pressure of Oikawa’s knocks. “No, I’m not.”

        Desperately, your neighbor's voice still pleads outside, and Ushijima nods. “Okay, I’ll talk to him.” It’s the most words he’s said to you in a day, and they pang your heart. 

        “Thank you,” you mumble, trudging away from the door and collapsing back onto your couch. 

        “Of course.” 

        The door opens behind you, and the lock clicks after it whooshes shut. You hug your knees into your chest and let the tears fall. 

        He loves me.

        “YN please!”

        He loves me.

        “She doesn’t want to talk to you. Please respect her wishes.”

        He loves me.

        “Oh, shut up you big oaf. I’m not gonna let you keep her from me! I won’t let you stop me again!”

        He loves me. 

        You breathe out a shaky sigh as the voices finally quiet. Wrapping a blanket around yourself, you fall into a dreamless sleep on the couch, stained cheeks and all. 

                                ***

        Another week passes. Ushijima has been talking you through the pain, but he’s also made you see reason. 

        “YN, he can be a pain, but I don’t think you should give up like this.” Was that really what happened? Did you give up? 

        “Doesn’t he deserve it?” 

        “Maybe, but I think he might be a person like me. I need time to sort my feelings out about things. Maybe he did too.” 

        His words shock you to the core. In all the time you’ve been thinking about your own feelings over what happened, Oikawa might’ve only started to understand his own. Okay, you got that. But then why did he sleep with more women afterwards?

        “You might be right, but I still need time.”

        “Okay.”

        In a million years, you never thought a stoic man like Ushijima would become the one to help you understand other people’s minds. He himself seemed aloof, especially when you tried to thank him. “For what?” he would say, “I’m just proposing a theory.” The man didn’t have a single touchy-feely bone in his body, and you began to respect that. It didn’t mean you would confront Oikawa yet, but at least you were getting somewhere. 

        While you stew over what Ushijima had told you, you hear a racket from in the hall. Ushijima is at practice, so you have to leave the apartment for the first time since last Thursday. 

        “Hey Shittykawa! Open up!” 

        There’s a beefy man furiously smacking Oikawa’s door that intimidates the shit out of you. However, you’re obviously not his target, so you lightly set the baseball bat down that you had grabbed for self-defense. 

        “C’mon Loserkawa! Tell me what’s going on!”

        “Umm,” you hesitantly pipe up. “Is everything okay?” While even though it involved your neighbor… you think, you still wondered if something bad was going on. Did something happen to Oikawa? Guilt struck your heart at the thought. Oh God, what if you never got to see him again?

        “Yeah, I guess,” Beefcake replies gravely and gestures a thumb at your neighbor’s door. “My friend just hasn’t left his house in a while. Sorry if I disturbed you.” 

        “It’s okay.” You figure the muscle man has it handled and plan to return to your daily activities of job-searching and wallowing in misery, but he grabs your shoulder suddenly, causing you to flinch. 

        “Wait!” He looks over his shoulder at Oikawa’s door, then back to you and your apartment. A deduction has been formed. “Are you YN?” Uh oh.

        “Umm, yeah? Who’s asking?”

        “Well son of a bitch,” he grumbles with a snarl, brandishing a key from his pocket. After sticking it in the lock and shouldering open the door, the man drags you into Oikawa’s apartment, which looks like ground zero. Pillows and clothing are strewn everywhere. There’s a table flipped on its side and empty food containers are littered on the ground here and there. In the middle of it all, curled up in a ball and covered in a blanket is a tear-stained Oikawa. His eyes resemble that of a raccoon as he peels them away from the TV he had been watching from his perch on the couch. 

        It’s a soap opera… about two roommates falling in love. Holy shit, he’s broken.

        “Goddamn, Shittykawa, it smells like someone died in here!” The man who tugged you in here waves his hand to disperse the aromatic funk, only to waft it into your face. You hold back a gag.

        “Something did, Iwa.” He makes eye contact with you for a split second before glancing away. “My happiness.” 

        You can hear your heart break at the jab, but “Iwa” only scoffs. 

        “You big sissy,” he folds his arms and raises an unimpressed brow. “Just talk to her and fucking get over it. We’ve needed you at practice for a week now.” Iwa places a hand on your back and shoves you forward through the mess. It’s not a hard push, but it’s enough for you to get the idea. 

        “Call me when you’re done so I can let the team know you’re okay.” Beefcake begins to exit but halts himself with a hand on the door. “Don’t go dark like that ever again, okay Shittykawa? People worry about you, not just your love life. Let us know what’s going on,” he mumbles over his shoulder before disappearing into the hall. 

        When you turn back around, Oikawa is sniffling and wiping his nose while avoiding your gaze. 

        “So…” you trail off awkwardly, standing in the middle of his apartment like a clean lighthouse amongst a beach of crap. 

        “YN, I’m sorry.” Oikawa takes the initiative, but still refuses to look at you. “God, I’m so sorry for what I did. I knew it was a bad idea from the moment I left your bed.” His voice is absolutely ruined. It sounds like every word scrapes past his throat and rubs it raw. He sounds… broken.

        You can hear your heartbeat in your ears as you struggle to breathe at a normal volume. 

        “I just,” he pauses to hide his face in his hands. “I just didn’t know what else to do. With you, yeah it felt different. God, of course it did. It felt amazing. But leaving after was the only thing I knew how to do, no matter what I felt.” 

        His words raise the hair on your arms, and you slowly walk around the random objects, taking your sweet time before you slump down onto the couch beside him.

        “Okay,” you breathe out shakily, eyes also locking on the television. “I get that.” As you chew on the inside of your cheek, you can’t help your gaze straying to his hand. It’s twitching closer and closer to you and you grasp it slowly, interlocking your fingers like long before. His are cold, and in your peripheral vision you can see him smiling at you while you try to warm it up with both hands. 

        “But look,” you pull your legs up onto the couch and swivel to face him, grabbing his other hand and rubbing it in the process, “I’m gonna need a little time to trust you.”

        “That’s okay!” He nods his head frantically and turns to face you as well, copying your position. “I can give you time!” 

        Your lips twitch at his excitement and you shyly glance down at your hands, but your eyes catch on something. The sweatshirt you got him for Christmas. He’s wearing it. Your breath hitches at the sight and Oikawa grows confused, following your gaze down to his clothing choice as well. 

        “Oh. Right.” He forces on a smug smirk. “It’s not that bad now that I’ve tried it on- oof.” You don’t hesitate to yank him into a hug across the couch. To be honest, you were surprised he had kept it. You had expected him to toss it just like you had done to his coupon. Although, to be fair, your gift had already been utilized. 

        With a sigh, you tuck your face into the crook of his neck and drag a hand up into his hair, combing through the tangled strands. Hesitantly, he wraps his arms around your back, then seems to gain a little courage as he suddenly squeezes you ten times harder than your ribs can handle. You don’t mind though.

        “I’m sorry for what I said, too,” you whisper against his neck, pressing a kiss against his skin simply because of the convenience. “I love you.” 

        Oikawa freezes in your hold and digs his fingers into your back. “... I love you too.” You sigh happily into his collarbone, pecking his skin more and more as his breathing grows labored. 

        “YN.” He pulls away just enough that there is a minimal amount of space between your noses. His eyes bore into your own with utter seriousness as he rubs his hands up and down your back calmingly. “I need you to know that after that night, I haven’t been with anyone since.” 

        Abruptly, you pull away and snap your brows together. “Really?”

        “Yes.”

        “What about Sakura?” 

        “Who?” You roll your eyes. 

        “Sakura! The girl you pushed out of your apartment?” His eyes widen in realization and he leans back slightly. 

        “Oh crap, you’re right. She was a nutjob!” You scoff.

        “So you did have sex with her.” 

        “No,” he shakes his head and stares deeply into your eyes so you knew he meant it. “I didn’t. She got ahold of me weeks after I stupidly gave her my number in the first place and I had to kick her out of my house after she barged in.” 

        “Oh really, snookums?” You sneer at him and he only chuckles. 

        “Yeah, buttnugget,” he smirks and bounces his forehead against yours lightly. “I mean it. She was an absolute whacknut, and I blocked her right after she left.” 

        “She was carrying her shoes.”

        “You think I’m gonna let her track mud into my apartment?” You glance around with a disbelieving look and nod your head. 

        “Uh yeah.” Oikawa scoffs and gestures around the living room. 

        “Ok, this,” he points his fingers in emphasis, “was all your doing, sweetheart. Congratulations, you're the second person in the world to break me.” 

        “Second? Aw man, who beat me?” You snicker as he smacks your thigh, offended. Then his face darkens and your smirk falters at the sight. 

        “Is something going on between you and Ushiwaka?” The smirk regains its rightful place and you tug on Oikawa’s cheek teasingly. 

        “Aww, Tooru, are you jealous?” He bats your hand away and pouts at you. 

        “Of course! That emotionless bastard told me to stay away from you. Also, everybody knows roommates always fall for each other!” Your face scrunches up at the thought.

        “Okay, who told you that?” He huffs and points at the TV.

        “Sofia and George fell in love after like two weeks of knowing each other! I mean, yeah, he did put her mother in a coma, but that bitch deserved it!” Your eyes grow to the size of saucers at his theory and you don’t hesitate to click the television off before grabbing his hand and tugging him out of the apartment faster than he can say “telenovela.”

        “What are you doing?”

        “Bringing you back out into the real world, where stepmoms don’t poison their daughter-in-laws over a lost diamond.”  

        “They don’t?!”

                                ***

        The sun is shining, birds are chirping, and once again, thankfully, Oikawa is right by your- oh shit, he’s gone! 

        “Tooru?!” you call out in a panic, feeling around the empty mattress for any sign of where he may have gone. “Tooru?! You son of a bitch, I swear if you left again, I will kick your ass!”

        “YN?” Oikawa peeks his head inside your bedroom, throwing you a confused look. “What are you yelling about?” Oops.

        “I thought your bitch-ass left again.” Your husband rolls his eyes at you.

        “Seriously, YN? It’s been five years, give it a rest will you?” You only stick out your tongue and roll out of bed before waddling over to him. 

        “Never.” You smile sweetly and kiss his cheek while he rubs circles on your stomach. With a shake of his head, he lazily returns your grin and lands a large smooch on your forehead before directing you into the kitchen. 

        “I was making you breakfast by the way.” He sets the plate down in front of you, and it’s a pleasant surprise to notice he’s shirtless and only wearing a “kiss the chef” apron over his glorious six pack. “Pancakes and hot sauce, just like your nasty, pregnancy-craving ass requested.”

        “Mmm, delicious.” You rub your pregnant belly and lick your lips hungrily. “Just like baby Ushiwaka wanted.”

        “I told you that joke isn't funny, YN!”

Fake Marks, True Love (Oikawa x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: The hickey was fake, but the pain Oikawa felt when he saw it? It was real, and it hurt like a bitch. “Who touched you?”

A/N: Angst! Angst! Angst (and fluff)! Also, another prank fanfic? Wow! Who’d have thought? Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy this fake hickey prank with Aoba Johsai’s cocky setter!

Word count: 1341

        The dark splotch on your neck was perfect. It was slightly below your ear and couldn’t be easily covered by hair or clothing. I could be a makeup artist. You dipped the brush into the powder and dusted it over the mark as a final touch, making it seem more natural and subtle. 

       “And now we wait,” you mutter, packing up the eyeshadows and foundations around you before settling down in the living room. You bundle up in a thick sweatshirt and yoga pants, hopping onto the couch and preparing for Oikawa to come over after finishing practice. 

       About an hour later, the TV is loud and lit up the room with your show, but you could still hear your boyfriend’s knock on the door along with the call of your name. You had almost drifted off to sleep, so you yawn while rubbing your eyes with the back of your hands. 

       “YN!” He rang the doorbell obnoxiously until you whipped open the door with a fierce glare.

       “Was that really necessary?” you hiss, the jingles still ringing in your ears. 

       “Of course,” he scoffed, “I wanted to see you. Be flattered.” He smirks at you before stepping inside, glancing around your house while kicking off his shoes. 

       “The Office? Really?” He raised a brow at your entertainment choice. “You’ve watched that like a million times.”

       “And I’ll watch it a million more, so get used to it.” You stick out your tongue and trudge back over to the couch, Oikawa snagging your waist in the process and following closely behind you. His hands were cold from outside and rough from his practice. 

       “I suppose I’ll have to, won’t I?” He sighs dramatically and flops onto the sofa beside you, plopping his sweaty head on your lap. 

       “Ew, ew, ewww!” You pat his forehead in an effort to urge him to move but he only swats your hand away. 

       “Shush,” he relaxes both arms behind his head, not-so subtly caressing your thighs in the process. “It’s not that bad.” You know he’s right. Sweaty or not, his hair is always soft and calming to run your hands through, so you do it. 

       “See?” His brown eyes glow from down on your lap and you roll your own at him.

       “Fine, you win-”

       “God, I love hearing those words.”

       “Now shut up and let me watch Jim prank Dwight.”

       “Fine, I will. Now you shush and let me,” he pauses for a second, looking up at your face confusedly, “... stare… at… you,” he trails off. His brows are furrowed and his eyes are filled with pain. What’s wrong with him? You glance down curiously before returning your gaze to the screen.

       A hand of his peels out from under his head and reaches up to brush over your face then down under your ear. Smiling faintly, you lean into his touch. He was gentle with his movements and you close your eyes to focus on the feeling. “YN.” 

       You hum in response. 

       “Who touched you?” His voice is tense and restrained. Your eyes fly open and narrow in confusion.

       “What?”

       “Who did this?” He sits up and turns to face you, keeping his fingers against the side of your neck. “Who stole you from me?”

       “What are you-” Oh shit.

       Your hand flies up to feel for the fake hickey, but Oikawa’s is already there. 

       “Yeah, that’s right,” he sneers while his voice trembles, “I saw it.” You’re conflicted between ending it right now by telling him and staying silent to see where it goes. Wait, why did I do this again?

       “How could you?” His Adam’s apple bobs while he pushes your hair back once more to view the artificial mark, only to scoff in disbelief and shake his head. You breathe out waveringly and fidget with your fingers. Should I stop now? God, why am I doing this?

       “It’s not what you think.” You avoid his gaze and mutter more excuses, “I just fell.” He gives you a pained smile and his eyes start to water. 

       “On your neck?” he whispers breathlessly. You nod and he shakes his head once more, loosening a tear from his eye. 

       “YN, please. Tell me the truth.”

       “I am!” you plead.

       “You’re lying!” he exclaims suddenly, pushing off the couch to pace back and forth in front of you anxiously. His hands tug on his hair harshly while he bites his lip. 

       “How long?”

       “Baby, it’s not-”

       “Who was it?”

       “Tooru-”

       “Was he better than me?” he whispers, eyes filled with hurt while he watches you.

       “Tooru, no, it’s a prank!” you shout, standing up and approaching him, only to be stopped by his outstretched hands. 

       “YN, I can’t.” He shakes his head and your heart stops. 

       “Can’t what?” you ask softly, eyes welling up with tears.

       “I can’t stay here.” Oikawa stumbles back, searching the floor frantically for his shoes. “I-,” he chokes back a sob, “I can’t be with you anymore.” 

       “Tooru wait!” You sprint over and slide into the door, slamming it shut just as he opens it. Tears fall down his face silently as you let out trembling breaths. Without a word, you grab his hand and lead him to the bathroom.

       “YN don’t-”

       “Shut up.” Your voice cracks pitifully as you drag him in and switch on the light. You hold him in place with a tight grip and silently turn on the faucet. 

       “YN…” he trails off in awe, watching as you rub away the fake love mark until it is only an awkward rash of purple under your ear. Slowly, you turn your head up to face him in the mirror, dropping his hand and leaning against the counter while you wait. 

       “It was just a prank,” you mumble, pursing your lips and losing yourself in his brown eyes. At last, he seems to hear you. And believe you. His nose flairs and he frantically wipes at his cheeks, hoping to erase the wave of sadness from earlier. Then he lets out a forced chuckle.

       “Thank God,” he laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if-” Oikawa breaks off with a whimper and pulls you into an embrace, weeping gently into your shoulder. In an instant, you return the hug, but you widen your eyes in an attempt to keep your own cries at bay. The resistance doesn’t last long, and you tuck your head into his neck, squeezing the back of his shirt tightly while you let out your own body-wracking sobs.

       “Don’t ever do that again,” he begs, sighing when you press a kiss to his neck.

       “Never,” you promise, nodding in agreement. Hesitantly, he leans back to look at your face and uses a thumb to wipe away a stray tear. For a moment longer, his fingers stroke your cheek before trailing down to your chin, swiftly pulling you forward for a kiss. Your lips clash together and you both let out a moan at the feeling. His bottom lip is puffy from when he had bitten on it devastatedly earlier, but you don’t hesitate to perform the same job in the heat of the moment.

       Oikawa groans before separating to allow you to breathe. The break doesn’t last long, and you sigh wantonly when he begins to attack the skin of your throat.

       “My marks are the only ones that should ever touch your neck,” he gives you a heated glance while you gaze back dazedly and nod in agreement. “Allow me to demonstrate,” he mumbles, lips brushing hotly against you with every syllable. After a harsh bite, you mewl and dig your hands into his hair, yanking on the brunet’s tufts encouragingly. 

       “Please do.”

Warm Embraces (Oikawa x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Naked cuddles with Oikawa need no purpose.

A/N: Sleeping at five am gets really hard when birds start chirping (just rewatched Say “I Love You” tho, so it’s worth it). Got this idea from this prompt by @otpprompts​. Enjoy this super short fic!

Word count: 581

        The door to your room opened just as you finally shut your laptop. The last of your homework was complete, and the giddy rush that came with that realization washed like a wave right over you. 

        “YN?”

        “Tooru.” Your parents must have let him in and directed him to your room. Your boyfriend smiles tiredly at your acknowledgement and shuts the door behind him while you snuggle deeper under your sheets. Heaving out an exhausted sigh, he unzips his jacket and lays it over your desk chair before lifting up his jersey.

        “Hey there, whatcha doin’?” Thankfully, your voice is solid and teasing, but your cheeks begin to betray you. He dismisses your blush, scoffing and rolling his eyes playfully. 

        “Don’t get too excited, horndog. I just wanna cuddle.”

        “Naked?”

        “Yep.” His shirt gets flung to a dark corner of your room before Oikawa gestures for you to join in the activity. Well, who were you to deny your Adonis of a boyfriend?

        After accomplishing that task, you both lazily burrow under your warm covers, clumped together rather tightly on your twin-sized bed. The close quarters didn’t mind either of you. You set up a random movie on your laptop while your boyfriend held you closely from behind, his silent breaths rousing the hair on the back of your neck. You set the volume of the laptop forgettably low and place it on your nightstand before turning back to Oikawa.

        “How did the game go?” Your fingers lightly draw obscure shapes on his athletic chest and your mouth curves into a small smile. With his hands resting on your exposed hips, he tugs you closer and presses his forehead to yours.

        “Good. We won.” The swirls of dark chocolate others would lamely call eyes are glimmering proudly at the memory, and his thin, pink lips curl at the corners. 

        “I hope so, ‘cause you’re really sweaty.” Your boyfriend gawks at your words and then whines exaggeratedly.

        “You’re so mean! Way to ruin the moment.” He pulls away from you with a pout and grumbles under his breath. Giggling at the action, you reach up and bring his lips to your own, giving him a short, gentle kiss to make up for it. Separating hesitantly, Oikawa licks his lips with debating eyes.

        “Apology accepted,” he declares decidedly while wrapping his arms around your waist and pinning his chest against yours. His body was warm and unexpectedly comfortable, but you busied yourself with dipping your fingers into his hair and combing through the brown locks fondly. Sighing contentedly, your boyfriend tucks his head into the side of your neck and plants affectionate kisses here and there. 

        Before long, his movements slow and his breaths become heavy. Hot puffs of air tickle the fresh marks on your skin he couldn’t resist to make. You intertwine your bare legs with his own and snuggle closer to his soft hair, not hesitating to press a small kiss into the wild, slightly-sweaty strands. The muscles throughout your body relax in his tender, tired hold one by one, and your eyes begin to droop. At last, with the sounds of Oikawa’s deep exhales and the drones of the movie behind you, you finally fall into a warm, blissful slumber.