oikawa and kuroo as college friends (platonic), sprinkled with x reader because i’m self-indulgent as hell, 5.1k
kuroo is stressed about college. oikawa decides to give him the best thing a college student could ever receive: weed.
WARNINGS: suggestive themes, recreational drug use
Oikawa is the best fucking roommate in the world (well, ex-roommate).
He’s pretty bummed about the ex part, but he would never say it out loud to Kuroo. Especially, when hewas the one who got dumped. It’s humiliating, he knows.
He complains about this to Iwaizumi almost every single day when he gets lonely, and every time, Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and says Shittykawa, he’s a RA now. He can’t be your roommate anymore.
Personally, he disagrees. If Oikawa and Kuroo were truly bros, he wouldn’t have left Oikawa to room with a complete stranger who ignores all of his attempts to be friendly. He would have tried harder, he would have gone above and beyond to become the first RA with a roommate, instead of being selfish and having a room to himself.
But despite his betrayal, Oikawa is still here for him. The poor guy has been so stressed lately with never ending assignments, stupid residents and family problems (read: mommy issues). Kuroo has been straight up notvibing for so long and Oikawa hates to see it.
That’s why with all the greatness vested in him, he went the extra mile and secured something for Kuroo. Something special. A little treat, if he says so himself. There’s an extra spring to his step as he skips all the way to Kuroo’s new room and knocks a jaunty little tune.
“Open up!” he yells, without regard for whatever Kuroo is doing. Whatever it is, it can’t be more important than Oikawa. When he doesn’t hear a response, he starts banging on it with a threat. “Kuroo Tetsurou if you don’t open this door I will release every single one of your drunk photos to the internet.”
Even his thinly-veiled threat doesn’t work. Tragic. And then it hits him: what if Kuroo is actually hurt? What if he’s in trouble and he’s being an insensitive little bastard threatening him? What if—
The door opens.
“What the hell do you want? I was in the bathroom.” Kuroo looks unimpressed.
Oikawa doesn’t respond, just pushes past him and looks around the room for any sign of trouble.
“I can’t believe you. I was getting worried and you were in the bathroom taking a shit?Unbelievable.”
“You weren’t dying Tooru.” Kuroo says, rolling his eyes as he shuts the door. “Why are you here anyway? Again? God it’s like you’re obsessed with me.”
Oikawa huffs, debating whether or not Kuroo even deserves his gift. But he already went through the trouble of securing it, so he might as well give it to him.
He throws the package at Kuroo, hitting him square in the face. “There.”
“Ow, what the hell?”Kuroo rubs at his face. “What is this?”
“It’s a gift.” Oikawa shrugs. “Open it.”
Kuroo gives him the side-eye. “You got me a gift? What, are you dying or something? Did you do something stupid and you want me to take the blame for it? Because I swear to god if you—”
Oikawa rolls his eyes and sits on Kuroo’s bed. “Dude,” Oikawa says, annoyed at Kuroo’s slowness, “Just open it already.”
“Fine, fine.” Kuroo says aggressively, tearing open the package with zero finesse.
In all honesty, Oikawa should have expected this, but he wishes Kuroo would take the time to appreciate how well he had wrapped the gift. He even stopped by the dollar store and chose a cute little box to store it in, before getting distracted in the stationary and coating the damn thing with fruity little stickers.
(He wonders if this is what Iwaizumi meant when he said he has too much time on his hands.)
Kuroo opens the box, and Oikawa sits there giddy with anticipation. “Bro,” Kuroo says, looking at him with wide eyes. “You did not.”
Oikawa grins, chest blooming with pride. “Bro, I did.”
Kuroo lifts the little bag carefully placed inside the box, and holds his other hand to his heart. He’s so touched. “Tooru, I can’t believe you got me weed.”
.
.
.
There was, of course, one problem.
They’ve never actually smoked weed before. Together or separately, they were just newbies. But it’s not going to be a problem— they’ve made it to university and passed their first year. There’s nothing they can’t do with the power of google and youtube on their side.
Oikawa inspects the bag. “I mean, don’t we just need to light it and then we’re all good?”
“Theoretically that’s correct.” Kuroo says, head bent low with his face too close to the phone. God bless him, he seriously needs glasses. (college truly takes and takes, and eyesight is not an exception). Though if Oikawa thinks about it, it’s probably the late night gaming sessions to blame; Kuroo’s stupid little discord icon is always online. “If it was already rolled into a blunt, it might be that simple…”
“Would you stop overthinking whatever is on your mind and just spit it out.” Oikawa grunts.
“I think we have to roll it first.” he says matter of factly. “Tooru, why didn’t you buy them pre-rolled?”
“I didn’t think that far!” Oikawa defends himself. He’s never going to do anything nice for Kuroo again. Not with all these criticisms. “We can roll it. We’ll figure it out.”
Well, they try to figure it out. The two of them huddle around Kuroo’s tiny phone screen and watch a video on how to do it. Apparently the first step is grinding their weed.
Oikawa frowns. “Do you have a grinder?”
Kuroo tilts his head, confused. “Like the dating app? Obviously not what do you think—”
Oikawa smacks him with the nearest pillow. “Were you even watching the video? I meant a literal grinder dumbass.”
Kuroo smacks him back, and Oikawa briefly feels like he’s been sent to another dimension and back . “Hey!” he says, irritated. “I told you only Iwa-chan can hit me!”
“We don’t have a grinder. Why does it need to be grinded anyway? Won’t that just dilute the effects or whatever? Let’s move on to the next step.”
Oikawa is dubious about Kuroo’s logic but he has nothing to contribute except pure vibes so he just shrugs. He lets Kuroo unpause the video without saying a word.
He’s so glad nobody is watching them do this, because as the video progresses he realises they have literally none of the things they need to roll a blunt. A grinder? Tobacco paper? All they have is Kuroo’s student card that they’re using to transfer the weed from the table and back into the little bag. This is so embarrassing to witness.
Oikawa watches as Kuroo rips a random piece of paper out of a tiny notebook. “Tetsu,” he finally speaks up when Kuroo tries to roll his blunt like it’s sushi. In the same way that he would not eat Kuroo’s homemade sushi, he is notsmoking this blunt. “This isn’t right. We can’t light this shit up.”
Kuroo sighs, absolutely resigned— he looks like he wishes he was never even born. Oikawa notes that this is just his resting face (some people have resting bitch face, but Kuroo just looks like he’s been let down one too many times).
Kuroo looks so hopeless sometimes that Oikawa wonders how the hell he was ever allowed on the Freshers Welcoming Committee. What kind of image would the university be selling if their very own students looked depressed? They should have picked someone fresh and pretty, like Oikawa, instead.
“Well, do youhave any better ideas?” Kuroo huffs.
“Don’t you know any stoners in the area? As a RA, I would’ve thought you at least had some connections. Come on, use your status of authority and hook us up.”
“It’s exactly because I’m a RA that I can’t just fucking ask.” Kuroo groans. “What image would I be putting out if I, the authority figure, started asking my residents how to roll a blunt? They’d think I’m a loser.”
Oikawa lets him have his little drama queen moment. Kuroo always does this; he acts like he’s given up and then a few minutes later he has a new plan. He looks around Kuroo’s room in the meantime.
There’s a growing pile of dirty laundry on the floor. A stack of clothes building up in a heap on his chair. A number of old takeaway boxes that he has yet to throw out. Yep, it’s confirmed. Kuroo Tetsurou is your typical dirty ass college student.
“Wait!” Kuroo suddenly exclaims, pulling out his phone and typing a message on his phone at lightning fast speed. “I do know someone. She’s also a RA and definitely won’t rat us out.”
Oikawa cheers and claps his hands. “We’re saved! Hopefully she can pull through.”
Kuroo looks smug. “Oh trust me. She will.”
.
.
.
“What the fuck?” Oikawa immediately slams the door and whisper shouts, “Why the hell would you ask Y/N for help? She’s myRA.”
“Uh,” Kuroo scratches his head before giving him a pleased smile, “Because she’s not a snitch? Because she goes to frat parties and definitely knows how to roll a blunt? Because we’re two idiots who don’t know what they’re doing? Come on, aren’t you into her?”
“Wha— I am not— Why the fuck is your voice so loud?” Oikawa wants to strangle him. “Why would you not tell me she’s coming?”
A knock interrupts their whispered shouting. “Are you guys gonna keep me standing here all night?”
Oikawa turns to Kuroo in panic, and his only response is to shrug. Fuck Kuroo. He is never, ever, ever,going to do anything nice for Kuroo again. “I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d act like this and run away. She’s our only option— we can’t let this weed go to waste.”
Kuroo pushes him to the side and opens the door, and all Oikawa can do is force a blank expression on his face to hide how he’s really feeling. It’s just Y/N, Oikawa reminds himself. His pretty RA.
The door opens and you walk in, wearing an oversized button up shirt and leggings. This zoom aesthetic outfit should not look that good.
Your hot and sexy RA, the demonic voice whispers in Oikawa’s head. Sometimes, Oikawa deludes himself into thinking that he’s going to focus on his studies at college and not be distracted by relationships. But when the devil can’t reach him, he sends you and Oikawa knows, without a doubt, that he is fucked. (or wants to be).
“Hey Tooru,” you greet, sinister smile on your face, “Thanks for slamming the door in my face.”
Oikawa pouts, “I didn’t know you were coming. We’re supposed to hide drugs from RAs, not ask them to roll blunts for us.”
“Where is it?” you ask, and Kuroo happily directs you to his desk.
“We’ve never done it before,” Kuroo explains shamelessly, before Oikawa can stop him, “so we don’t have any supplies. I’m not even going to describe to you what we were doing before I texted you.”
You laugh and Oikawa frowns. Even your stupid laugh is cute. “Okay, I can help. But can I collect my payment first?”
“What payment?” Oikawa asks, confused.
Kuroo lets out a forced laugh, doing a time-out motion but you just raise an eyebrow at him. “Kuroo said—”
Oikawa goes to speak but before he can, Kuroo’s hand slaps it over his mouth and says, “Give us a minute will you, let me just speak to him over there.”
Kuroo drags him to the bathroom before you can get another word in. Oikawa waits until he closes the door before he says “Explain before I tell the girl you’ve been crushing on down the hall that you’ve had wet dreams about her for the past week now.”
“You bastard!”
“Explain!”
Oikawa smacks Kuroo’s arm. “What does she mean by payment?”
“Well,” Kuroo says, clasping his hands in front of him to look like the picture of a good boy. It works on lesser mortals usually, but Oikawa’s immune to his petty ways— he is not fooled. “I knew the only way she’d come was if I told her that you would…”
“I would…” Oikawa’s patience is growing thin. “Speak up asshole!”
Kuroo huffs. “I told her that we needed some help for our little problem, and I may have vaguely, loosely, noncommittally, said that you would kiss her for helping.”
Oikawa hits him again and Kuroo just takes it. The mark of the guilty. “Tetsu! Why the fuck would you say that?”
“Because!” Kuroo pouts. “I know she’s into you, and she would have come over if I said that. And I also knew you wouldn’t mind, because you yearnfor her with your di—”
Oikawa covers his ears. He can’t believe Kuroo would betray him once again. Actually, he can believe it. This stupid rooster head is conniving in his own ways. It’s quite frankly the only explanation he has on how he became volleyball captain in high school.
(Okay, Kuroo is also nice and super funny, but that is notOikawa’s point right now.)
“Tooruuuu,” Kuroo whines, shaking him by the shoulders, “I mean if you really don’t want to kiss her, it’s fine. We don’t have to smoke, we can just tell her to beat it and watch a movie.”
But here’s the thing. Anger, betrayal and other unforgivable sins aside, Oikawa does want to kiss you. Carefully, he starts, “She’s into me?”
Kuroo nods confidently. “Well she’s here isn’t she? Ready to collect payment.”
Oikawa turns to the mirror and fluffs his hair, “I guess I can take one for the team. I do look cute today.”
He opens his mouth and breathes on Kuroo, “Does my breath smell weird?”
Kuroo’s nose crinkles, “Can’t you smell that shit yourself? It smells fine, I guess.”
Oikawa gasps dramatically. “Just fine? That means it smells like ass. I can’t kiss Y/N with bad breath, where the hell is your mouthwash?”
Kuroo sighs, crouching down to open a cupboard below the sink. He hands him a bottle, “Here you go.”
After what feels like an eternity in the bathroom getting ready to kiss you, Oikawa decides he’s ready to make the ultimate sacrifice and pucker up his frog lips to kiss the princess. He says this to Kuroo who scoffs, “Don’t act like you wouldn’t have done this out of free will.”
Oikawa glares at him. “People who sold my body for free blunt rolls aren’t allowed to speak. Stay here while I secure the deal.”
“What!” Kuroo exclaims, trying to leave the bathroom. “Why do I have to stay here?”
“Because why the hell should you watch me kiss her?” Oikawa protests. “You absolute freak.”
Oikawa walks out of the bathroom before he can say anything else. In the time they were in the bathroom, he finds that you made yourself comfortable and took a seat on Kuroo’s bed.
Oikawa clears his throat. “Sorry about that. Small misunderstanding. I’m ready to provide payment.”
You tilt your head to the side. “You don’t have to do it.”
“What?” Oikawa can’t hide his frown. “You don’t want me to kiss you?”
“No.” you say simply, clearly checking him out from where you’re sitting. “Not if you don’t want to kiss me.”
“So you are into me.” Oikawa teases, giddy with excitement, while you sputter, “I didn’t fucking say that.”
“Is that why you’re always hanging around my room? I thought you were just a dedicated RA and—”
“Tooru, you’re the one who keeps locking yourself out of your room.”
“Well maybe there’s a reason why a smart guy like me would accidentally lock myself out of my room.” Oikawa teases as he sits down next to you on the bed.
“I thought you just liked annoying me.” you roll your eyes.
“I do,” Oikawa says, looking down before looking up through his eyelashes, trying to look seductive. “But mostly, you just look good standing by my door.”
You shake your head, smiling. “Well, are you going to kiss me? I’ve been waiting since the start of the semester.”
But before he can even lean in, a loud banging from the bathroom door interrupts, “Are you guys done yet? I just washed my sheets and—”
“Shut the hell up!” Oikawa yells, as you laugh. “Sorry about him.”
You poke at his side. “It’s okay. Here, let me roll the blunt first.”
Oikawa watches as you pull out a piece of gum and separate it from its wrapper. “I don’t have any rolling paper right now, but gum wrapper works.”
It’s something so simple but god you’re hot.
You shake your head laughing as you roll it. “Next time, just ask me when you want to smoke. I have connections, and this is really old school.”
“Okay.” Oikawa says, focused on the way you lick the wrapper to seal it, “Yeah, next time.”
“I’ll only do one because you losers have never done this before, and I don’t want any liability. Open the window when you light it up, or the smoke alarm might ring.”
Oikawa just nods obediently.
“Do you know how to inhale it properly?”
“Can you teach me?”
“Just inhale it and keep it in as long as you can.” you explain. “Try not to cough.”
“That’s vague.” Oikawa whines and you laugh.
“Sorry, you didn’t pay for smoking lessons.” you respond.
“I haven’t paid at all.”
“So? Pay now.” you tease, a challenging glint in your eyes as you lean in for what you’ve been waiting for.
It was a fairytale kind of kiss. Pure. Disney-friendly. Heartwarming. The stuff of dreams. At least that’s how he’ll describe it to Iwaizumi when he calls him. In truth, it was rather… slutty (feminist).
If Oikawa thinks about it, it couldn’t really have gone any other way. It’s been a long semester for him too. You’ve been a menace. Sometimes, Oikawa leaves his dorm at the tender hour of three in the afternoon, and you’re strutting about in tight leggings and a crop top. I mean, how is he supposed to pay attention in class after experiencing a debilitating event like that? Life could be so sick and twisted.
So really, he just says fuck this and goes for it. The Oikawa from a few months ago would have settled for a quick kiss, even just a little peck, but the current Oikawa has been through it. So what if he uses tongue? If his hands end up wandering elsewhere? If he cops a feel of your ass? Who can blame him? Live, laugh, lobotomy or whatever those inspirational quotes say.
Before it can go further though, Kuroo exits the bathroom, covering his eyes and yelling “Okay enough, you guys are done. Do it in your own time.”
The two of you laugh, though he pouts when you pull away. You give him a quick peck, before gathering yourself and walking to the door. “You know where to find me.”
“Thanks for the text, Tetsu. You can open your eyes now.”
Oh, how Oikawa lovesto watch you go.
The door closes behind you and Kuroo quickly assesses the state of his room. He looks at Oikawa who has a shit eating grin on his face and says, “You look too happy. I don’t think it was just a simple kiss.”
Oikawa smirks. “Sorry, I don’t kiss and tell.”
.
.
.
Oikawa did bring something other than the weed and his cute self— a lighter. He takes it out of his pocket and says, “Let’s light this bad boy up.”
They’re like two little rats, huddling up at Kuroo’s desk. Oikawa starts the lighter while Kuroo holds the blunt. And without a drumroll, it’s lit.
Oikawa whoops as he watches Kuroo put one end of the blunt to his mouth and take a drag. Kuroo’s chest rises as he inhales, and he thinks it’s a successful hit until Kuroo breaks out into a coughing fit.
“God,” Oikawa sighs, taking the blunt from him, “Do you need water or something?”
Kuroo continues to cough and shakes his head, raising his hand. His eyes are watering and Oikawa feels a little bad, but he can’t help but say, “Man, you’re so weak.’
Kuroo glares at him, but it doesn’t have the same effect when his eyes are all watery and he’s wheezing like an asthmatic. “You try it then!”
Oikawa rolls his eyes. How hard could it be?
He brings the blunt to his mouth and takes a deep inhale. He tries to follow what you said, but all he can remember is his hands on your ass. The only warning he gets is a slight tickle at his throat before he too, is subject to a coughing fit.
Kuroo laughs, taking the blunt from him. “Ah, Oikawa Tooru. Who’s the loser now?”
.
.
.
They do end up getting used to it, passing it back and forth, until they end up lying on Kuroo’s dirty carpeted floor.
They’re blasting some random Spotify playlist in the background, and Oikawa suddenly feels a little emotional. Who knew this stupid rooster head he got randomly paired up with in his freshman year would end up being one of his best friends? And now they’re sharing a new experience together, lighting their first blunt. It’s so wholesome he’s lowkey tearing up.
“Bro,” Kuroo says concerned, “Are you crying?”
“Shut up!” Oikawa says, covering his face with his hands. “There’s just something in my eye.”
“Like what? Dust?” Kuroo snickers. “You’re totally emotional right now. I can’t believe you’re an emo stoner.”
“Literally shut the fuck up.” Oikawa grunts, feeling lame as fuck as he wipes his eyes. He blames it on the drugs. “I’m just so sad… about my big fat juicy ass.”
He wishes he could immortalize Kuroo’s face the moment he hears the words. But his senses are dulled, brain feeling fuzzy— all he can remember is Kuroo wheezing on the ground as tears stream down his face. “You,” he wheezes, “your ass is not even that—”
Oikawa tries to smack him but he swings into thin air. “Fuck off, you can’t say anything!”
“It’s not big at all.”
“You have no room to speak, flat ass.” Oikawa says, wiping his tears.
Silence fills the air for a while. It’s peaceful, and Oikawa thinks he might fall asleep until—
“My ass is notflat. Take that shit back.”
Nevermind.
.
.
.
Oikawa wishes he could say all the time he spends in the gym is paying off. To be fair, he does think his ass is getting fatter and his biceps are bigger than they were before. But doesn’t working out help you get stronger too? Kuroo doesn’t even fucking go to the gym and he can still hold his own against him in an arm wrestling competition.
After a non-homoerotic fisting session (do you mean a fist fight? Iwaizumi had asked, horrified when Oikawa retells the story later on. He isn’t an idiot, he knows what he means but he thinks it’s funny to tease him), they settle down.
They’re still lying on the carpet, just two bros vibing in this chaotic world.
“Tooru, can you lower the music? I think I can hear something.”
Oikawa glances over. “Oh, that was just me bro. I farted.”
Kuroo looks over in disgust. “Okay gross. But I’m serious, I can hear a beeping sound.”
Oikawa sighs as he rolls over, grabbing the phone to do as he’s told.
“I can’t hear anything.”
Kuroo shushes him, looking so concentrated Oikawa think he mights shit his pants, and then his eyes widen. “Oh fuck,oh god it’s the smoke detector! Get the fuck up right now, fuck—”
Oikawa rises faster than the second coming of Christ. Alarm bells go off in his head. “Oh my god,” he yells, staring at the smoke detector, “oh fuck, what do we do—”
But Kuroo is already going through the five stages of grief, holding his head in his hands. “I’m going to get fired. I’m going to be homeless. I’m going to be the first RA fired for smoking weed and getting caught—”
Oikawa cannot let his bro do this to himself. He slaps Kuroo with all the love he has for him and grabs him by the shoulder. “Tetsu, listen to me. You’re not going to get caught, get your shit together right now.”
Suddenly, your words from earlier flash through his head. “The window! Tetsu, the window!” Oikawa yells, pushing Kuroo towards it. “Open the damn window, I’ll start fanning the smoke.”
Kuroo stumbles his way to the window, panic making his hands clumsy, proving to be detrimental to his task. Eventually,he manages to pull it open, while Oikawa flaps a pillow at the smoke as if he’s a bird trying to take flight.
“Shut up already!” Oikawa yells at the detector, as if it could listen to him.
Kuroo takes the blunt they were smoking and throws it into a week old cup of coffee laying around on his desk. It’s only after all these measures that the smoke detector finally stops ringing.
The adrenaline rushes out of their system like the smoke and they fall to the floor, looking like the final five minutes of a yoga class.
Oikawa’s heart hasn’t even found peace before Kuroo lifts his head and asks, “Wanna try rolling another one?”
.
.
.
Oikawa is what mere mortals would call a genius. But only selectively, because it’s too much effort to be good at everything. Sometimes, even geniuses like him want to have fun.
But on the rare day that being a genius and having fun aligns, it’s a damn good day.
“You cannot call yourself a genius for rolling a blunt.” Kuroo scoffs, but he’s simply jealous that when he tried, all the weed kept falling out. “Y/N taught you so it’s not a fair fight.”
“Unfortunately, I just watched her.” Oikawa sighs, thinking about how you could teach him while sitting on his lap. Next time.
“You gonna date her?” Kuroo asks, passing the blunt to him.
“I don’t know. It’s not like we talked about it. I’ll think about it later.” Oikawa takes a drag and breathes out. “I doubt she’s looking for anything serious.”
He passes the blunt back to Kuroo who takes a long, long drag. It makes Oikawa laugh, “Woah, take it easy bro.”
“It’s fine.” he shrugs it off. “I need it.”
“Damn, you really have been stressed, huh?” Oikawa says, patting his shoulder. “Do you wanna talk about it?”
“Don’t tell me you’re getting all emo again.” Kuroo teases. “I don’t want to think about any of it right now anyway. This is nice.”
“I know.” Oikawa marvels. “I can’t believe this is the first time we’ve tried to destress like this.”
“I think my methods are fine.”
“Eating three pints of ice cream every time you fail a test is far from fine.”
“Yeah it is. It makes me happy.”
Oikawa shrugs and lets it go. Really, he can’t argue with that. Who is he to prevent Kuroo from getting diabetes?
“Speaking of happiness, you know what would be good right now?” Kuroo asks.
Oikawa shakes his head.
“Chicken nuggets and fries.”
“Bro.”
.
.
.
In times of need, they call their honorary college bro: Bokuto.
Also known as Kuroo’s high school volleyball bronemesis, the sass master, Oikawa’s gym buddy and many other names.
Today, he is their delivery man.
Kuroo puts him on speaker. “Hey! What’s up bro?”
“I’m with Tooru.”
“Hey bro!” Oikawa pipes up.
“Bro! Where are you guys?”
“Nothing you want to know—” Oikawa says mysteriously at the same time Kuroo says, “We’re smoking weed in an empty parking lot.”
“Say no more.” Bokuto says.
“Bro, you love us right?” Kuroo asks.
There’s a silence and then comes Bokuto’s hesitant voice, “What do you need?”
“Can you buy us chicken nuggets and fries from McDonalds?”
“I want coke!” Oikawa hurriedly adds.
“Two cokes,” Bokuto confirms, “I’ll meet you at Tetsu’s dorm?”
“Yeah, we’ll be there.”
.
.
.
The two bros skip their way back to Kuroo’s dorm holding hands. What a sight that would have been, but it’s college. Surely, there’s been weirder encounters.
Bokuto arrives a few minutes later, and is greeted by their cheers.
“Our Saviour is here!” Oikawa whoops, grabbing the food and drinks out of Bokuto’s hands, as Kuroo launches himself onto Bokuto for a hug.
“Bro! Did you get that sauce I like?”
Bokuto rolls his eyes. For the first time ever,he’s the most sensible one in the room. “Of course, how could I forget?”
Oikawa is smiling, but not at them. At the food, which he is carefully setting up on the floor. He hopes Kuroo has vacuumed this floor at least once this semester. He knows he’s going to drop a fry on the floor, and he’s not physically okay enough to calculate how much bacteria builds up on a french fry after the five second rule.
(Later, he drops a french fry and eats it anyway.)
Like all good things, their night ends. McDonalds devoured, and heart finally at peace— Oikawa is ready to go home.
“Let’s do this again bro!” he says as he gives Kuroo a hug.
“After finals?” Kuroo says, squeezing him tight.
“Sure.”
“Text me when you’re home. Love you bro.”
“Love you too, Tetsu.” Oikawa says, smiling. His heart feels warm at the sentiment. He was about to bully Kuroo into saying Oikawa is the best roommate in the world, but he’ll settle for love you bro.
Fuck toxic masculinity.
Bokuto drives him home, although his dorm is only two blocks away and bids his goodbyes too. He feels happy; there’s stars in the sky, weed in his system. What more could he ask for but sleep?
When he arrives at his front door, getting ready to put his key in the lock, he pauses. He turns his head to the left, and looks at the door at the far end.
He’s drawn to it, and finds himself knocking before he can have any second thoughts.
He hears footsteps at the door, and there’s a brief nerve-wrecking moment where he’s tempted to run away— then the door opens, revealing you in a massive t-shirt.
“Hi.” Oikawa greets, feeling sheepish now that you’re in front of him. “Am I bothering you?”
You smile softly at him. “No, I was waiting for you.”
a/n:you’re welcome. just kidding!! this is one of my most favourite fics so i hope you enjoyed reading it… i tend to write a lot of serious long fics so it must be weird seeing this but alas, i have hidden depths. two buddies smoking weed can be so personal.
writing silly fics like these make me wonder why i torture myself with all my long fics… p.s some scenes may or may not be based off of my irl experiences… heh
He isn’t even looking at you. He’s lying down on your bed, scrolling through his phone. He is the worst boyfriend in the world.
You sigh, putting your hands on your hips. “How can I not be worried? We’re having dinner together with our families.”
Oikawa rolls his eyes, but it’s fond. “Y/N, you’ve had dinner with them a thousand times. You’ve known my parents since you were ten.”
“But this is different, Tooru.” you say, picking up a dirty sock on the floor and hurling it at his face. Sadly, you miss.
Oikawa doesn’t even notice, just parrots your words in a high-pitched voice, and laughs when you let out an annoyed yell.
You could yell at him. You could march right up to him and hit him with a pillow.
“You’re laughing,” you say in disbelief, “I’m so anxious and worried right now about meeting your parents for the first time as your girlfriend, instead of just your best friend, and you’re laughing.”
“You’re so dramatic,” Oikawa puts his phone down finally, stretching his arms. His shirt rides up a little bit and you have to resist looking because you’re annoyed — you won’t allow yourself to waver just because he’s showing a little skin. You’re better than this. He isn’t even trying. “Come here, my pretty baby.”
“No,” you turn up your nose, crossing your arms. “You come over here.”
“Pleaseeeee,” Oikawa whines, “Don’t be mad. Come on bestie.”
You don’t budge. Work harder, Oikawa Tooru.
“Baby, baby, baby, baby,” he chants, trying to be annoying, but you’re the annoying one in this relationship. He has to do better than that.
Oikawa stops when he realises he’s not getting anywhere, and it’s silent for a moment— a moment too long in your humble opinion. But you’re still turned away, determined to act as petulant as possible despite the fact that you want so badly to turn and see what he’s doing.
You don’t have to wait long though, because Oikawa clears his throat and says, “Hey, do you remember when we were in elementary school and you accidentally called our teacher ‘Dad’?”
You whip your head around immediately to see him with the most nonchalant expression on his face, looking at his nails. “Shut up, that was so embarrassing, why would you bring that up?”
But Oikawa just carries on, “There was also this time when you were going to confess to what’s his name? That kid who dyed their hair blond and always skipped class—”
“I don’t remember him,” you glare.
“I wish I didn’t remember him,” Oikawa shakes his head, “You secretly made him homemade chocolate with peanuts on Valentine’s day, because that was your favourite kind, but then he came to class all upset because someone had left food he was allergic to on his desk. And then our teacher had to lecture us on kindness and how we shouldn’t be threatening people—”
“Oh my god,” you cover your ears, but it’s no use because Oikawa has always been a loud talker. He learned it from the best (you, obviously).
“Wait, do you remember when we sneaked out to go to a party for the first time, and you got so drunk that I had to carry you home? But you were making so much noise, you woke your parents and I,” Oikawa puts a solemn hand on his chest, “had to watch you try to fool your mother, even though you couldn’t even stand up straight, and then promptly puked over—”
“Be quiet!” you huff, but he only raises a brow, “But Y/N, I have so many other stories to tell and you’re just so far away—”
Your fingers are curling at your side. Your ears feel hot. These are the memories that keep you awake at night and he’s bringing it all up. Oikawa has witnessed too many embarrassing moments in your life. You have to kill him.
You march up to him at full speed and immediately cover his mouth, and the two of you go toppling down the bed. You try to grab a pillow to suffocate him with, but in your attempt to do that, Oikawa manages to roll you over and you’re the one who ends up trapped. He smiles, “Finally got you.”
You glare at him, “I’m going to break up with you.”
“No, you won’t.” Oikawa says, confidently, and then he suddenly drops his weight on you as you groan in pain. “Tooru, please try to remember how heavy you actually are.”
Oikawa rubs his head against yours, snaking his arm around your waist in an effort to hug you, “Are you actually worried about our dinner?”
“Yes,” you pout, “I’ve been telling you this whole time. Were you not listening?”
“I was,” he says, “I just didn’t realise you were actually serious about it. Baby, they love you. You’re family. You’ve had a seat at our dining table for years now. They’ve known you longer than my sister’s boyfriend.”
“They know me too well,” you frown, “you’re okaachan’s baby, and i don’t know if I fit the person she imagined you bringing home.”
Oikawa sighs, pulling himself up just enough so that he can look at your face. “I get it. I get that it’s probably weird for you too, considering my mom has been like a second mom for you all these years.”
“Yeah,” you say in a small voice, “You get me.”
“Comes with being by your side for the past ten years,” Oikawa grins, and then he says, “I’m going to tell you something embarrassing right now, which I know you’re going to bring up to tease me about—”
“I would never,” you smile, knowing you totally would.
“I don’t believe you,” Oikawa rolls his eyes, “but I’m going to tell you anyway, because it’ll make you feel so much better about this whole thing.”
You nod, “Okay, go on.”
He sighs, aggressively, “Mom knows I’ve had a stupid crush on you for years now. Long before I even knew about it, and she used to tease me about when I was going to ask you out. I suffered so much and I’d always be like, I can’t ask her out, she doesn’t like me like that.”
Oikawa imitates his mom’s voice, “Tooru, please open your eyes. She clearly likes you.”
You actually feel a little shy at hearing that. It’s one thing to be called obvious by a bunch of your friends, but for his mom to clearly see it? That’s a whole new level of embarrassment.
You clear your throat, “You, uh, should have listened to her. She’s always right.”
“Why should I make the first move?” Oikawa argues, “You know I’d never ask someone out if I was even one percent unsure.”
“You’re the older one between the two of us,” you retort.
He laughs, “Suddenly, I’m the older one.”
“Yeah, those three months mean you’ve eaten ninety more bowls of rice. Look at how tall you are. Wish I had those extra months.” you joke, and Oikawa falls onto his back laughing.
You turn to your side, so you can follow the way his body shakes with laughter. Watching the way his body slowly settles, how his large grin becomes a soft smile. Oikawa reaches over and pinches your nose, “Don’t be worried about dinner. There’s nobody else they’d rather have with me than you.”
“Okay,” you breathe out, and with it, all the tension in your body.
Oikawa’s hand comes to rest gently at your cheek, and he leans closer to press a soft kiss against your lips. You barely get to kiss him back before he pulls away.
“You’ll see,” he smiles, the sight of it comforting and familiar, “It’ll feel just like coming home.”
cw:hints at a past toxic/unhealthy relationship, might contain errors
wc:tbc
an:i wrote this half asleep
you‘ve dreaded for this moment to come.
you‘ve tried to drag it out for as long as you possibly could have. but one can only do so much when something, had already been written down on your faith book. all that dodging goes down the drain when his brown eyes look you up and down while he stands by the door way.
“hey.”
“oh,”
just by looking at him, you can feel all the memories hit you like a truck. all the things you‘ve done just to drag this moment for so long, falls straight to that hole, dragging you by your ankles.
“how‘re ya?” he smiles so sweetly as if he had not just broken your heart merely months ago, as if he hadn‘t ripped it into shreds right before your very eyes, speaking so casually as if he had not just left you there as a broken piece.
“what’re you doing here, oikawa?” you hate that you easily allowed him to walk into your life again just by ringing your doorbell. you hate how easy it is for him to walk back into your life and act so casually. you hate how easy it is for him to see your protective barriers dissolve into thin just because you saw him.
in short, you hate him.
“i just want to talk.” oh, there he goes again, seducing you with his tongue as he did before. those words of his, they fall so easily from his lips. whether he knows it or not, it surely makes an impact on you. an impact you wish would not sway you.
“i don‘t want to. goodbye.” is your stern reply before you shut the door out. there is no desire in you, nor does you brain allow you to talk to him. however your heart, it so deeply wants it, no matter how irrational it may seem.
and as if he had heard your heart‘s desire, he sets his foot between the frame and the shutter. his hand on the wooden door as he looks at you with his pleading brown eyes.
“please,” he pleads. you hate it. “i‘ve— i‘ve got no one else to walk to. you‘re the only one i‘ve got left. i— i can‘t hold it in anymore.”
you hate him.
you hate this situation.
you hate it all.
you hate it so much because you allow him to walk into your home with his face falling into the crook of his neck. you swallow thickly as you shut the door with your foot, feeling his tears fall unto your skin as his hands clutch your waist ever so tightly; like you‘d run away if he doesn‘t.
as you lead him to the kitchen with his sobs falling past his lips, you also feel your tears brim your eyes. all your efforts are gone, simple as that, within the blink of an eye, gone as if it had never existed in the first place. you tried so hard to move on. for months and months on end, actively distracting yourself so hard to get over him.
it was stupid of you to think you‘re actually over him when you know deep inside you‘d let him so easily walk back into your life like this.
“i can‘t do this anymore, (y/n)!” he cries. a bottle of wine in his hand as he curls himself on the corner. you wish to yell ’so can‘t i!’ at him as well, but you can‘t. if you do so, you feel like you‘d break your fragile heart even more.
time passes just like that. and now it‘s quarter past three. you‘re intoxicated, and so is he. he‘s a sobbing mess, and you‘re no better.
“c— can‘t we just go back to the way it was? before.. before it was all so complicated..?” he cries, looking at you with pleading eyes. with those words, you only feel more tears bleed from your eyes as your skin grows warmer.
“tooru—” you stutter, clenching your fists as you wrap your hands around yourself. “we- we can‘t keep doing this, okay? i— i can‘t be your friend, we— i— we‘ve just gone through so much! and i feel that if we become friends again, it would just through away everything we had had. everything we kept so sacredly would be nothing.”
“no! i— we can try again—!”
“no we can‘t!” you finally exclaim. fat tears are dripping harshly from your eyes as you put your hands on your head, clenching the roots of your hair tightly. “no matter how hard we fucking try it‘s never going to work out! the ending will always be the same because— for fuck sake— you and i were never meant to be in the first place!”
as much as it hurts you to say so, you have to say it. the truth hurts, and it always will.
“so please… don‘t make it harder than it already is. we can‘t keep doing this anymore, tooru.” you mumble through your sobs and he looks at you with his tears already down his neck, flowing harshly like a river.
silence wallows you both. only the sounds of tears, sniffles, and sobs echo throughout the room. the smell of heartbreak reeks harshly in the air, evading the once cool air, causing it to go stuffy.
“i guess— i guess we‘re never going to be it, huh?” he bitterly says to himself, looking at the ground as he swallows hard. “there really is no going anywhere with what he had, right?” he grits through his teeth, looking up and swallowing as he holds back the sobs stuck in his throat.
“tell me, did me showing up ruin things for you?” it seems like he has become sober, as if all the alcohol he had downed went out of his body. “because when i came here, i couldn‘t get a grip on myself. i wanted to maybe see, see if you would still take me in. i wore the things you like so that i‘d make even the slightest appeal. but i guess— i guess it won‘t do shit.” his voice falters with every line due to the emotions stuck on his throat.
you have no idea as to what you should say, because in truth, you‘re no better than he is. there is not a single bone in your body that‘s not telling you to run to back to him, but your mind seems to freeze your movements, saving you from the heartache.
“we- we never really went anywhere else, tooru.” you shakily sigh, looking down at him as you bite your lower lip. “so, we shouldn‘t be eachother‘s reason as to why we can‘t fall in love with someone else.”
you feel like dying as he nods, showing that he‘s agreeing. you don‘t want him to agree. no matter how much it hurt you and traumatized you to be with him, you can‘t just put him in the back of your head to be eventually forgotten.
“if— if this is then— let me— i—” he can‘t even comprehend a proper sentence. hands in his hair as he bawls his eyes out right there. you don‘t even notice it, when he runs up to you and hugs you so tightly. his hands are on your waist as he cries on to you, head above yours as he smells the familiar smell of your shampoo, hugging you tightly as he kisses your head. “i— i‘m sorry. we— i broke us off. i‘m sorry i broke your heart. but i can‘t let you go. my heart leads to you all the time, no matter where i am.”
“tooru—”
“but if me clinging unto you will hurt you more, then so be it.” he sadly whispers, giving you one last squeeze as he kisses your forehead lovingly, tears damping you up. “i won‘t drag this further. i‘ll set you free, set me in the past, and move on. i‘ll just take what i have left here so that you move on and forget about me.”
you can‘t even respond, unable to move as he walks past you, straight to your room. it breaks your heart worse, hearing him rummage through the closet you both once shared. it‘d been left untouched, you left it be. maybe because a part of you really hoped to let him back in. yet it with the turn of events, it won‘t happen anymore.
you stand there for as long as he finishes. he finally has everything he owns. the book you both read, the stuffed toy of him that he gave you, his highschool jersey that you loved so much, the shoes he owns that matches with yours, and lastly, the photo album you had made for him.
“i— i‘ve got it all.” he whispers, looking down as he clenches his full hands hard. “i‘m— going. i won‘t hurt you any longer.” his eyes never failed to meet yours as he speaks and he doesn‘t dare take a step towards you, in fear that if he does, then maybe he won‘t be able to leave after all.
“so maybe, this is goodbye.” he chuckles grimly with a forced smile, yet you cannot seem to return to him. not the chuckle. not the bitter smile. yet instead, the goodbye.
as the old saying goes, saying goodbye entails that you‘ll never see them ever again. you can‘t even bring yourself to speak as he walks away with a heavy heart, sobbing quietly before the door closes so loudly yet so quietly behind him. silence envelopes you as you fall to the ground before loud wails of heartbreak come from you.
now that he‘s gone, said his goodbye, he‘s no longer coming back, and now you‘ll be forced to let him stay merely in your memories.
content belongs to @shisnhou on tumblr! do not repost, copy, use, or modify!
“Come on, (y/n)! Why are you so slow?” Oikawa whines, already standing at your shared apartment’s entryway. “Taylor Swift won’t wait for us. Move faster!”
It was your birthday a few days ago and Oikawa gifted you with VIP tickets to Taylor Swift’s concert because he knows how much of a big fan you are of her and her music. He’s lowkey a fan too. So here you are now, still at your place, an hour away from the expected starting time of the concert. At this point, you’re not sure whether Oikawa bought the tickets for you or for himself. He could be a bigger Swiftie than you are.
“Calm down, Swiftie. Taylor won’t care if you’re late.” You roll your eyes at him before putting on the shoes that completed your outfit. He stretches his hand out to you, asking you to hold his hand. You teasingly shake your head no and he pouts, leaving your apartment first.
You follow behind him laughing. After catching up to him, you wrap your arms around his torso and forced yourself between his armpits. “You smell good.”
“No. Stay away from me. You don’t want to hold me.” Oikawa looks away from you, dragging your body along with him to the elevator. You start sniffing his underarm and he laughs, giving in to your hold. He takes your hand and intertwines it with his. “Reject my hand again and you’ll never get to hold me ever.”
“You’ll be the one suffering if that happens,” you tell in a matter-of-fact tone and it’s his turn to roll his eyes. The elevator door opens at the parking lot and Oikawa suddenly runs, leaving you to stand there confused. “Is he that excited to see Taylor Swift?”
You walk painfully slow, wanting to make fun of him. But to your dismay, he doesn’t give a reaction to your unhurried manner. Entering the car, you notice how much more fidgety he has become. But you don’t pay much attention to it and register it as his excitement for the concert.
The car ride is unusually quiet. Oikawa isn’t singing along to the song, or even paying attention to the road. He’s staring at blank space and this almost leads you to an accident. “Tooru, red light!” He steps on the brake suddenly, almost throwing you off of your seat.
“Sorry, angel. I’m thinking about the concert already.” He fakes a chuckle and clasps your hand with his. You glare at him. “I’m sorry.” Oikawa takes the back of your hand on his lips, giving it small gentle kisses multiple of times.
“Ew, your saliva,” you joke and he lets go of your hand almost immediately. You smile, forcing your hand in his.
It has always been like this. Your relationship has always been the one with playful banters and endless teasing. People would often mistake you as best friends because of that. If it weren’t for his strong desire to hold you every moment, no one would have known about your relationship. But nothing’s wrong with being best friends, too. The two of you actually prefer it that way.
Noticing how cold his hand is, you set the air conditioning of the car to lowest level. His head whips at you in concern. “Do you feel cold, angel?”
“No. But I think you are. Your hand is cold,” you point out and he becomes silent again. Not long after, you arrive at Tokyo Dome. The place is packed, but thanks to Oikawa’s professional athlete status, which is already equal to a celebrity’s, you avoid the crowd and enter the dome efficiently.
The concert starts exactly when you arrive and you hear Oikawa mumbling behind you about how you could have been actually late if you moved any slower. You stick your tongue at him before focusing back on the stage.
You’re singing along to the songs and screaming on top of your lungs, but your boyfriend is too quiet. Too quiet for someone who has been reminding you about the concert ever since your birthday. Too silent for someone who flew to Japan just to go to this concert. Right then, you finally connect the dots.
“Are you feeling sick? Do you want to go home?” You say close to his ear so he can hear you through the crowd. Cold hands but feeling hot? Restless but silent? Definitely ill.
“I’m alright,” he whispers back at you, smiling at your reassuringly. Nodding, you turn around to focus on the artist on the stage.
A familiar guitar play starts and you shout excitedly, facing your boyfriend. “It’s our favorite song!”
We were both young when I first saw you…
“I close my eyes and the flashback starts, I’m standing there,” you sing along passionately. Oikawa’s hand land on your hips and sways alongs with your hips.
“It’s a love story-”
“Baby just say yes!” Oikawa sings loudly and from his chest. You chuckle before singing again. The hands on your hips start to tremble but you’re too focused on the song you don’t notice. Oikawa’s throat is dry and it’s definitely not from singing.
While you sing along in excitement, Oikawa becomes more nervous as the song progresses. He shouldn’t mess this up. He has been planning these for months now. He practiced this way more than enough. One wrong move and his plan will surely fail.
We keep quiet cause we’re dead if they knew so close your eyes…
Oikawa looks at his left and sees his friends a few seats away from the two of you, giving him thumbs up and mouthing, ‘you can do it’and‘go for it’. He checks at you to see if you’ve noticed them, which you haven’t so you sigh in relief.
He stares at your enjoying figure, and gets a peek of your lovely smile and glimmering eyes. The way the lights hit you so perfectly makes his heart beat faster. That’s enough to reassure him that it’ll end well no matter how his plan goes.
I got tired of waiting. Wonderin’ if you were ever comin’ around. My faith in you was fading. When I met you on the outskirts of town, and I said…
This is it. He has to do it now.
You on the other hand is still singing alone, unaware of your boyfriend’s wariness. “Romeo, save me, I’ve been feeling so alone. I keep waiting for you, but you never come…”
Out of nowhere, he’s in front of you. Oh you surely can see him, but you’re not sure if you’re seeing him correctly. The one and only Oikawa Tooru is kneeling on one knee before you, a velvet box in hand, but you don’t even notice that because your eyes are glued on the shiny diamond ring.
Is this in my head? I don’t know what to think. He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring, and said…
Anon asked: Hello! idk what to call you, sorry for that. Are you open for request? If you open, can I request for suna, kuroo, oikawa or anyone you want other than those three reaction to their babies get a vaccinations. yk how babies need to get their vaccine after they were born right or maybe when they were like a toddler (kind of like 6-14 months I guess. idk) . I wanna know their reactions, whether they will cry, upset or just normal when their babies got a shot. maybe perhaps add their mother in your headcanon reaction too. Hehe thank you!
authors.note: This is the req I was talking about I just find it so cute aaaa also I need to stop procrastinating and end up writing at 3 am. I need to get my sleeping schedule in check ASAP. Enjoy <3
TW: MENTIONS OF NEEDLES
OIKAWA Tooru, world renowned volleyball player and member of the argentina olympics volleyball team is bawling his eyes out on the pediatrician’s bed while holding your 6 and a half month old daughter. It is your baby’s first vaccine, of course both of you are scared and concerned about your little girl’s reaction but Tooru isn’t handling it well at all. He had begun sniffling even from before heading in, treating the chubby baby in his arms as if these were her final moments. Your little girl wasn’t even acting concerned when the needle pierced her skin, she was completely calm in her father’s arms holding onto his index finger like she always did when he was hugging her. Things changed however, when Tooru -after the shot was over- decided to open the tear ducts and smother his baby in kisses. “Oh how brave my little Princesa!!! She didn’t even shed a tear!” And at that the waterworks began. You don’t know if it was her dad’s own tears, an aftershock of the vaccine or just the drama queen gene she got from your husband but now you have two crying children in your car.
SUNA was calm and collected during the appointment. He sat on the bed with his little boy in his lap, fingers tickling his sides in an attempt to distract him from the needle steadily entering his arm and pressing light kisses on his brunette little head whenever his brows furrowed. The nurse conducting the vaccine called him a trophy dad after he successfully kept his son from crying out. All Suna had to say was that his little boy was just built different. Once back in the car he asked you to drive, opting to sit in the back with his son still in his arms, rubbing small circles on the boy’s back more as a soothing mechanism for him rather than the child. “You okay there, Rin?” You saw him place a few kisses on your son’s brow before lulling him to sleep on his chest. “Just a little shaken up is all, nothing to worry about.” At the next stoplight you couldn’t help yourself from taking a pic through the rearview mirror.
KUROO is an interesting case. He is completely calm, daring even to subtly boast about his wife to the doctor who was too busy scribbling down the name of the vaccine to care about your husband’s shenanigans. He holds your daughter gently, letting her play with his tie while the nurse gets everything ready and even starts talking with her despite her only responses being baby gibberish. And you think that everything is going to go smoothly; your baby rarely cries even when she falls on her butt during play time so getting a shot won’t be that bad. You’re wrong. Kuroo blanches when the needle comes into view, jerking his knee in the process. His stress soon is picked up from your little girl who looks up at her father with scrunched up brows reaching out with her little hand to touch his face. He simply kisses her chubby palm before bracing both himself and her for the upcoming vaccine. The moment she begins to cry -and the needle is out of course- he is up bouncing her in his arms and kissing her cheeks saying what a good girl she was for the nice ladies. He manages to calm her down fairly quickly but then needs to take a second to calm himself as well. Almost faints for a moment.
notes ; wore heels to an event, this thought came to mind driving home … i cried
ATSUMUwas more than ready to leave this place. the many lights and cameras flashing in all directions made him effortlessly dizzy, and with that dizziness he couldn’t focus on just how gorgeous you were. but honestly, in that dress that hugged you so perfectly you could make anyone drop to the floor at your command felt so unfair. he was genuinely in awe, fully taking in your power. however, signing countless autographs with an already cramped hand and interviews asking the same nosy questions left an exhausted miya in their dust. so the moment he got note of your agreement to leave, he took the chance with haste. “can you make the trip ?” he giggled, eyeing your hobbling form with amusement. you were not having it, making this situation all the more entertaining to him. “shut up tsum…. my feet hurt so bad..” you whined, nearly stumbling into him and right onto the parking lot pavement until he caught you. the setters brows knit worriedly, pulling the tote bag from your shoulders. “well you should’ve just told me baby.” he huffed, bending over to ease your way on his back as a comfy piggy back ride. “what’re you doing ?” you motioned, apparently confused. “hop on sweetheart, i’m being nice.” this caused your face to break into laughter. “such a gentleman.”
AKAASHI had recently been researching different hiking trails to explore. no, he wasn’t a outdoor person but it was boring in the house and he wasn’t going to waste his day with you doing nothing—so instead, he resorted to hiking. yet it appeared he overestimated the length of this trail in particular, pacing himself to make it to the turn-around point. “k..keiji..” you choked out in hurried gasps, causing the editor to glance behind at you and notice your frazzled state. “do you need a break love ?” he eased, holding out a prepared water bottle for you. “i need a car.” you weakly replied, head leering back. “we can turn around here.” he added, brows rising curiously at your once full bottle being handed back in only a few seconds. “please.” and so. well, maybe keiji was overestimating the intensity after all, because your loud heaving allowed the poor decision to sink in further. “do you need a ride ?” he brought up carefully, your head shooting upwards so quickly it became difficult to contain his laughter. “what ? ride ? where ?” — “here.” the raven-head beckoned to himself expectantly. “aw thanks baby.” you sheepishly smiled at his consideration, not wasting the opportunity. nonetheless, halfway down the path back you’d fallen asleep, cheek smudged a giant his shoulder. adorable. “hold on a little longer, we’re almost there dear.”
SAKUSA, only for you, allowed more “intimate contact.” that “intimate contact” despite your assumption consisted massages or perhaps hugs even. a common misconception. you see, you’d attended his practice the day before, underestimating the constant movement of the players bustling from position to position. now laying in bed the morning after, getting up proved a harder obstacle than before. whilst kiyoomi easily rose, preparing breakfast in the kitchen with his soft humming vibrating into your shared bedroom. “kiyoommiii—“ you dragged out, flayed on the bed unhappily. it was impossible, you absolutely could not get out of bed. “what is it ?” he stood by the doorway, observing your dilemma. looking just as breathtaking as always with his messy black curls dancing to his steps. “.. can you massage my feet ?” hesitantly sinking into the sheets you didn’t dare to peek out. unbeknownst to you, the feeling of cold hands rubbing your aching feet stirred your frame. “where does it hurt ?” he narrowed his eyes, brows knitting with concentration. you anticipated a hard ‘no’ and for him to disappear, his willingly loving gestures causing your chest to squeeze with affection. your lack of reply was answered with a soft tap on your leg from the outside. “tell me where it hurts, i’ll be gentle, just tell me when to stop.” this soft side to sakusa was too sweet to handle.
USHIJIMA insisted upon joining you for drinks with a few drinks. he knew this was marking a long time since seeing your work-friends and your drinking intentions would fly out of the window quickly. with this in mind, he quietly sat beside you like an obedient puppy awaiting his cue. the mentioned ‘cue’ being when you began talking nonsense, leaning towards ushijima in a dazed manner. he was easily adjusted to these antics, good thing his presence was present. “and i thought, ‘toshi, you’re saying this to me ?’” the table ‘awwwed’ at your story referring his morning kisses and soft words he awoke you with, ushijima’s face hearing up progressively. “alright, thank you for tonight everyone, i’ll be taking her back now.” he bowed politely, at that moment your reddened heel catching his gaze. the blister forming had gone unnoticed before, but the discovery fueled him to be extra tedious. lightly lifting you bridal style in his arms, he proceeded to carry you to the car—continuously hushing your babbles with small cheek kisses. the ‘morning kisses and soft words’ portion of the earlier story repeated itself the next morning. uninvited but definitely not disliked. the best part being his husky morning voice, heart fluttering.
OIKAWA felt thrilled to dance with you, the multicolored leds casting an authentic glow that lit up the argentine dance floor in a versions array of color. the entire feeling was ethereal. tipsy, but morally more drunk in love than alcohol. your body in his arms with fluid movement left him speechless. ethereal was a good word for it. too wasted to stay any later, his phone screen flashing furiously with a bright 2:48AM told him plenty. fumbling to the taxi, his attention became snagged when you weight fell to the ground, his focus trained fully on you. “are you okay ? babe ? !” he shrieked, wooden orbs filled with panic. “yeah toru .. i think i rolled my ankle.” you lips puckered unrealistically, drenched in the stench of alcohol. “okay okay okay let’s see..” he spoke to himself worriedly, hauling you in a child-like position to lift you up, all the way to the awaiting taxi. “i got you i got you ..” he frantically reminded, the aftermath resulting in a wiped out oikawa spooned in your chest. and from the moment he pried an eye open he was tending to your every need, convinced you were dying. it was quite relaxing actually.
notes~i hope some of you wake up to this, if not, think of it when you want to wake up in their arms :’)
>>ATSUMU wakes up pretty late usually( ‘usually’ being around 1:00pm ) so on those days when he rises before you, it’s a treat. he’ll lean over to peck your cheek once with a soft afterglow then proceed to pettily kiss every square inch of you until you groan and cover your face with your hands, comparing about just how attention-seeking he is. it’s never-ending. “tsum tsum stoooopp~~ its 7:00ammmm—“ you drag out, dramatically flopping onto the pillow. “let me smooch my baby one more time.” he pouts, puckering his lips like a concussed instagram model of 2017. “i will gouge your eyes out if you so far as breath.” this stopped him in his tracks, sweating profusely once he sighed out his disappointment. “alrighty, enjoy your morning and sleep well, i love you.” he waved quietly and made sure to carefully close the door behind him. his doubts being pushed aside when he saw the ‘when are you coming home’ text he received during practice. his smile couldn’t stretch wider.
>>BOKUTO takes his time and never normally wakes you up, instead he snuggles into your side with your legs tangled together in a mangled position. he is so warm ( mostly always ) but especially in the morning. which can either be your downfall or the greatest blanket. on hot mornings, you’re sweating like dog and on cold days it’s the best heater ever. “too hot kou.” you manage to slightly pry his massive arm from your shoulder to prod at him. yet the ace is engulfed in some sort of dream because he is out. i mean even a hurricane could wake this teddy bear. “i swear i’m dying.” you panted, struggling to break free from the suffocating sheets as bo only pulled you closer defiantly. “‘m sorry it’s so hot but i don’t want to let go.” how saddened he seemed decreased that building anger. you melted at how clingy the big man was being, tracing patterns on his hand, a feeble grin pulling at his cheeks and accenting his dimples. “if i guess what you’re making, you stay for ten minutes more.” of course he made a game out of it. “go for it.” you offer, his attempt spot on. “volleyball.” — “wow my kou is so intelligent.” you gawk falsely, holding his precious face in your hands. “you know it.” he preens.
>>OIKAWAdecides the best way to wake you up is to start blasting music. and when he’s in the mood he’ll romantically start flitting some romantic melody and waltz gracefully into your room to extend his hand in a cliche manner. “let us dance to the rhythm of my heart.” he clutches his chest in example, stirring a giggle from you. “such a dork.” you roll your eyes, but you take it anyways. it’d be a waste to let this opportunity by. your feet are clumsy and hardly functioning correctly thanks to your deep sleep beforehand. nearly tripping he sweeps you off your feet, holding you bridal style. “isn’t this just the absolute greatest way to wake up ?” he emphasizes, edging to your lips till you block his contact. “ i haven’t brushed my teeth toru.” you narrow your eyes. “me neither.” he lifts his brows multiple times to sell that horribly suggestive look. “gross.” you utter, dragging him to the bathroom. “you didn’t either !” — “don’t even.” he whined in retaliation, yet brushing his teeth obediently after your fair warning. “now ?” he waited patiently as you continued flossing. your muffled “no” left him hopeless. “now ?” he asked again and again and again and you were loosing it. “no-“ he began again only to be shut up by your lips. “yes.” you finished for him, his face stained a pink hue of surprise and fluster.
>>IWAIZUMI works out in the mornings, and by morning i mean 5:30 he’s up and ready for some sweat. afterwards he showers and changes—once he’s done he’ll saunter to your bedside table and place a cup of water there while squatting down to your height. “wakey wakey sleepyhead, i know your throats gonna be dry so sip some water.” he nudged at your frame, smoothing a stray hair behind your hair. “haji..” you choked out, earning a hum of affirmation. “that’s me. no other man’s allowed in this house besides your father and i y’know.” he stated matter-of-a-factly as if pointing out something even a toddler should know. “oh i know.” you answered sleepily, iwaizumi fitting the glass between your fingertips urging you to hydrate. he chuckled as he watched your head nod of slightly just sitting on the side of the bed, already falling back asleep. “i’m hungry….” you mumbled, his calloused hands coming to envelope yours. “i’ll lead you to the kitchen and make breakfast, just follow me.” he wrapped his arms around your back, breathing in your scent and all. his favorite part. you placed your feet on top of his, waddling awkwardly there with hazed eyes and broken chatter. “don’t worry, i’ve got you.” he eased, giving your hands a small squeeze.
notes ; it’s been a while loves, this can be my comeback piece(*‘▽’*)
DAICHI was awoken by your soft sniffles, hands frayed on the fabric of his clothes; your eyes flashing fearfully. he assumed it was a nightmare from your baited breaths and sweat dappled forehead. “honey honey, breathe okay ? i’ve got you.” he soothed, unaware of why exactly happened—prepared to comfort you. “i-i-i almost lost you.. don’t you dare leave me.. please.” you spluttered out, aggressively fisting his white shirt. yet your ‘please’ at the end told him more than enough. “you must’ve been scared, but listen to me.” cupping your face to land a feather-light kiss atop your nose. “i will never get lost. especially since you are my home alright? i’ve already been found love.” love-struck idiots so early in the morning, curled around each other as if you’d loose him. “promise me.” you stuck your pinkie out, his wood-like scent engulfing your senses. linking his pinkie loyally with yours in response. “promise.”
ATSUMUchoked on his breath, eyes shooting up to see your angry face staring down at him in fury. “you idiot ! how- could you-!“ you screeched, continuing to beat on his chest with your clenched hands. “w-whatido?” he grabbed your hands, absolutely oblivious to the situation occurring. you were far from actually fury, rage seemed more appropriate. “okay okay okay mrs. spitfire. was it the taiyaki ?” he sighed, awaiting a scolding similar to that of a guilty child. however tears began pouring from your eyes. “huh huh huh ? ! i’m sorry ‘m sorry !” he cried out desperately, hands racing frantically through his hair. “it’s not that baby.. you cheated..” lips wobbling with emotion, you stared up at him—those doe eyes working wonders. “cheated ? what’re ya talkin’ about ?” he tilted his head, clearly confused. “in my dream..”—“oh.. that makes sense-“—“wait-did you just say you ate my taiyaki ? ATSUMU MIYA YOU-“—“Y/N I SAID I WAS SORRY PLEASE.” —“YOU WILL PAY.”
IWAIZUMI couldn’t stop. gazing at you so lovingly, your hand placed on his bare chest. cozied in bed on a saturday morning. “you wouldn’t look good as godzilla.” the random remark catching hajime off guard. “where did that come from ?” he barked a gravelly chuckle despite the confusion. “‘had a scary dream you turned into godzilla.” this only stirred the tanned athletic trainer to roll his eyes. “you call that a nightmare .. that sounds awesome ? did i have red eyes ?” he began, observing how your eyelashes would dust lazily at his words, hardly awake. it was adorable to him. once again, he couldn’t stop. “nope.” you laughed at his antics. “aw but that would’ve been real cool.” he frowned jokingly. “shhh.. you dummy..” it was your turn to roll your eyes. “your dummy.” you both cringed automatically, burying your faces into your pillows to muffle the cackling laughter. “i never took you as a romantic iwaizumi hajime.” he repeatedly raised his brows as a reply. “it’s charming right ?” — “that’s not the way i would’ve described it.” the stubbornly-pouty look on his face ended up getting smothered in kisses. now that was romantic.
OIKAWA had no idea how he lasted this long. he knew he was a pain, and you we’re definitely not one to put up with it. so now, with you sitting on his lap at this ungodly hour—he wondered what had changed. “uh babe ? what’re you doing ?” he nervously laughed, waiting for you to pull some sort of prank. instead, your head flitted downwards. “i had a nightmare that you didn’t want to be with me because i was too mean to you.” mumbling so silently it took a bit of craning to make out your words. “too mean ? that’s far fetched.” he rested his toned hands on your hips, landing a careful kiss to your lips. “if anything, i’m a much worse advocate, i mean, you have to put up with me every day.” he mused, ushering you to look at him. “that’s right.” he gasped dramatically. “you weren’t supposed to agree !” he hollered. “but what if it’s true.” you smiled shyly, pausing to catch back up to him. “all i’m trying to say is, if i’m ever mean to you, tell me..” he hummed with acknowledgment against your lips, slow, sweet. “the same goes for me sweetheart, but i can’t say i’ll stop that easily.”
A/N:this is for my darling @sillykawa !! Once again congratulations on joining the oldies club! dentures clicking in the background as part of the welcome music❤️ JKS JKS but I hope that you had a wonderful day and lots of hugs and love to one of the sweetest person I know
The announcement for the flight came all too soon.
Oikawa simply sat there in silence, twirling the ends of your hair with his fingers, as if it didn’t concern him. Outside the window of the private lounge, the airplanes slowly rolled away towards the runways.
You lifted your head, which was resting on his shoulder, up to look up at him when you realised he didn’t move. “It’s nearly time.” Your voice was barely above a murmur; perhaps if you said it quietly enough, it wouldn’t be true.
Oikawa closed his eyes in answer. He shifted to wrap his arms around your waist, then buried his face in the crook of your neck. “Don’t wanna,” he mumbled. Already his heart ached at the thought of not being able to be by your side for the next few months. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that he felt a part of him was missing during the days he couldn’t see you.
“You’ll be late.” Contrary to your words, your tone didn’t carry any of the conviction you tried to convey.
Still he didn’t move. For Oikawa, every time it became harder to part. Last time his manager had to drag him off you and haul him onto the plane.
“Tooru,” you gently poked at his puffed cheeks, knowing his coach would be yelling down the phone at him if he arrived late. “I’ll call you every day,” you tried to appease him.
Finally, knowing he could no longer prolong the inevitable, his arms relaxed. “It’s not the same,” he said, the corner of his mouth pulled downwards, “I wouldn’t be able to touch you.” As if to prove his point, he pulled you closer again, his lips pressed against your temples.
“I’m sorry,” he said when he pulled back. He was frowning.
“For what?” You asked him in confusion.
“This.” The sunlight danced off his brown eyes as he gazed at you. He reached out and tucked a lock of your hair behind your ears. His fingertips lingered by your cheek. “You know, the face you make every time we have to part, I’m sorry that I’m always making you feel this way.” His gaze fell, and his face twisted into a slight grimace.
“Tooru.” He looked up when you called his name. The sight of the smile you gave him made his breath hitch. “Please don’t ever apologise for chasing after your dream. After all the hard work you put in, you finally got the recognition you deserve. And I couldn’t be happier for you. I will always be here waiting for you to come back.”
Oikawa felt his lips tremble. “You… really are too good for me,” he smiled wryly, and leaned his forehead against yours. Neither of you said anything, but your gazes conveyed a thousand thoughts. He really did feel like he used up an entire life’s worth of luck just to meet you. And for you to love him back was a miracle that he sometimes still found hard to believe was true.
The announcement sounded again, as if knowing Oikawa was still sitting here. “I’ll get the first flight home the moment I’m done,” he promised as he stood up and grabbed his bag. Then he suddenly seemed to remember something, and dug around in his pockets. He pulled his hand out. Dangling between his fingers was a bundle of yarn attached below a keychain.
“It’s uh,” he cleared his throat as he handed it to you. “For you.”
You looked at the soft bundle sitting on your palms. From the looks of it, it seemed to be a crochet of something you couldn’t quite identify because of how misshapen it was.
“You made it?” You asked in surprise.
“Yeah,” he turned away to fiddle with the bag strap so you couldn’t see the hint of pink gracing his cheeks. “It’s supposed to be a fluffy milk bread. I know you like crocheting so I tried to make something for you to keep you company while I’m away.”
Seeing the delighted expression on your face, all the effort, the struggle, and the last few all nighters he pulled to finish it off was worth it. “How about I teach you when you come home?”
Oikawa’s smile lit up on his face. “Then it’s a promise.” A promise of being able to spend more time together, doing what you love. He leaned down and lightly pressed his lips on yours. When he pulled back, he was smiling tenderly at you. “Put my whole heart in there, look after it for me.”
->In the Kingdom of Seijoh, Prince Tooru Oikawa wakes up at a thread’s amount of light in the sky every single day.
What he also does is slip into sparring gear, slink out of his room and into the enormous palace halls, and emits nearly no sound as he makes way to the same exact quarters as always: the servants’.
The brunette, despite waking up not too long ago, has a bright expression ready for anything as he rhythmically raps his knuckles on a mahogany wood door- mahogany, that is, per his request. It reads “Iwaizumi Hajime”, and below that, “Man-in-waiting of Prince Tooru Oikawa”.
There’s a moment of silence. Then a couple footsteps. A thud. Something metal clattering ont the ground, hopefully not an oil lamp. A muffled “…Shit.” Then, the locks click around and the door opens to reveal a man of tan complexion, strong build, and serious eyes. Well, the serious part toned down a bit, taking how drowsy he looks at the moment.
“Iwa, dear,” the prince leans forward, whispering, hands behind his back, “It’s been years we’ve been doing this, yet you always look like I’m waking you so early for the first time.”
Iwaizumi gives the latter’s shoulder a slight punch. “I was up last night chasing a rat out of my room, give me a break.”
Oikawa gives a soft chuckle in response. “Whatever you say… hurry and get ready, we’ve no time to lose.”
“Shittykawa, the sun isn’t even out, we have plenty-”
“we should talk about it,” oikawa yells from the other side of your living room, picking up several red solo cups off your wooden floor, “ignoring it will do nothing for you. or me. or us.”
“there’s nothing we should talk about, nothing to ignore.” you roll your eyes, sweeping away the last of the confetti into a dustpan. the pit that’s built in your stomach only grows deeper, ignoring his groans from across the room, “and there’s no us either.”
you hadn’t even noticed that he had already started walking towards you until you feel his hand on your shoulder, forcing you to look back at him. there’s a deep crease that’s formed between his brows, a pout present on his bottom lip. a sigh moves past him, keeping his hand on your shoulder, but his touch is warm and gentle.
“we kissed- at midnight.” oikawa mumbles, eyes trailing all over your features for any sort of sign – though he’s unsure what sort of sign he’s even looking for. perhaps a reflection of his own feelings, a flash of emotion that tells him you liked him just as much as he liked you.
your gaze lands on the clock at the wall, shrugging his hand off your shoulder, “yes, and that was almost an hour ago. the party’s over. you should go home.”
“no, i want to stay.” he huffs, taking a few steps away from you but not moving too far. “i’m helping you clean up.”
you sigh, turning away from him and grabbing a black plastic bag from the kitchen. handing it to oikawa, you nod towards the empty bottles of beer and cans of soda. no other words are exchanged as both of you tidied up your apartment, it doesn’t take long until your apartment is eventually spotless; all traces of a new year’s eve party completely disappeared.
you walk him to your front door, eager to get him out of your apartment. you didn’t want him to notice your heartbeat ringing in your ears, or how your knees turned weak just from looking at him a second too long. you offer him the smallest of smiles, “thanks for coming, and helping me clean up.”
“yn, before i go,” he places a hand on the door’s edge, stopping you from closing it entirely. his words are laced with a sadness you couldn’t quite place, a longing present in his eyes as his voice ever so slightly cracks when he asks, “was it just a new year’s kiss to you?”
“why are you asking? are you still drunk or something? should i call someone to pick you up or mmph-”
oikawa cuts you off by pressing his lips onto yours. soon enough, you melt into his embrace as his arms wrapped around you, eyelids fluttering shut as you lose yourself in the moment. a quiet gasp escapes you when he finally moves away, but oikawa keeps his hand on your cheek.
“i really like you yn, and i don’t want to be the friend you happened to kiss at new year’s i- i want something more.”
from elle !happy nye everyone!! hope you have a lot of fun hehe figured my last drabble of the year be for the loml tooru <33
A/N: Some New Years Fluff~ Please note, this an old fic of mine (slightly edited) that I’m reposting on tumblr. Thanks! Wishing everyone well for the new year xx Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated
It was a crisp winter’s night in Tokyo. The street was filled with joy and laughter of people gathered for the countdown to New Years. The loud popping sound of small fireworks and sparklers were set off mixed with children’s squeals of excitement added to the warm atmosphere created. New Years was something many, if not all people looked forward to. The beginning of a new adventure or a chance to wipe the slate clean. The coming of a new year also meant the accomplishment of surviving the last. Hope.
Two hours later, the once lively street was empty. It’s residents residing in the comfort of their homes tucked under warm sheets. All except two. The pair sat atop one of roofs wrapped up in a thick blanket sipping hot chocolate. The clear night sky was velvety black decorated with the millions of twinkling stars that dazzled like diamonds. It was one of those breathtaking sights that were etched into ones memory that no camera could capture. The light breeze that blew by, the twining stars and the person who you shared the moment with.
“Look, Tooru!” y/n pointed towards the three stars that were closely aligned. “There’s Orion’s Belt.”
“Ehhhh. Is that the only constellation you know, y/n-chan?” Tooru mumbled, mocking disappointment.
“ After all of those astrology sessions with me I thought you’d know mo- Ouch!”
The brunette was cut off by hot chocolate burning his tongue. Y/n laughed lightly at Tooru’s pouty face, watching as he mumbled incoherently about his poor tongue and how it was the hot chocolate’s fault.
"Shut up, it’s my favorite one. And Idopay attention. ” Y/n scoffed, playfully pulling the setters nose, grinning at his protests.
A short exchange of Tooru’s pleading cries and y/n’s laughs soon died down after Tooru’s successful puppy dog face had won them over as it did many times before. He acted like such a kid sometimes, but that was one of his endearing qualities. From their play fights to simply lazing around in each other’s arms, those were the moments that y/n treasured the most.
Y/ns eyes softened watching Tooru rubbing his nose as he rambled about it being red like Rudolph or something, she assumed, not fully paying attention, lost in her thoughts in admiring the person before her. The way his nose scrunched up was one of the cutest things. And when he’d sing her name or the way his eyes lit up, bright specks that rivaled the stars above whenever he’d catch her gaze, just as he did now. A cheeky smile graced Tooru’s lips as he caught her staring. Leaning in, one hand tilting her head slightly, his lips pressed to hers moulding perfectly into a sweet kiss. Pulling back, Tooru lightly bumped his nose against y/n’s, humming happily as she reciprocated, teasingly rubbing her nose against before pulling away as a soft laugh left her lips.
“They’re so beautiful.” Tooru breathed out, glancing up at the night sky. It was clear tonight. The black velvet above was graced by the stars that danced in celebration.Tthe perfect backdrop to the falling snow.
Y/n mirrored his actions, humming in agreement as she snuggled closer, resting her against his chest encased in his arms.
Tooru’s eyes flickered to y/n. “You know what else is beautiful?” Taking her silence as his queue, he paused for dramatic effect, building up the tension before he replied; "Me~“
A blanket of silence fell over the pair as y/n registered his reply. An exasperated sigh left y/n’s lips; "Really Tooru? really?” She mumbled, burying herself deeper into his chest taking in his vanilla scent. A short laugh escaped her lips as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.
Going into the new year with someone who would always there for you is a blessing in itself.
summary:y/n and toru have been best friends since diapers, getting into all sorts of trouble along the way. it seems there’s nothing that could tear them apart, not iwa-chan, not toru’s weird obsession with aliens; even the move to tokyo couldn’t hinder their friendship. so… how would they fare upon realising that their platonic feelings aren’t quite platonic anymore?
content warnings: mention(s) of seizure, mature language, depictions(?) of a panic attack
word count:5.4K
note(s):you’ll find a few unknown names in this chapter, it’s just the names of y/n’s relatives. decided to give them some because why not? ♀️
- also, i switch between ‘hanae’ and ‘your mother’ a lot. same thing with ‘kenji’ and ‘your father’.
- if there’s any mistakes in here, my care is so far gone. at this point, when the tags are added it bugs out and i can’t edit the chapter ever again lol :> enjoy, it don’t, whatever you feel like
“You know the cashier was considering calling the cops on you.” Was the first thing you said once you emerged from the small convenience store. Oikawa whipped around with eyes as wide as saucers.
“What?Why?” The mere thought of being approached by unhappy officers sent an uncomfortable shiver down his spine. “I-I wasn’t doing anything!” You shrugged, readjusting the plastic bag suspended from your fingers. When you took the first couple of steps, it took him a moment to register your movement before he took up the space right beside you.
“Maybethat was why. You looked mad suspicious, Toru.” He fumbled for his words, brows furrowing with deepening frustration the more incoherent he became. Before too long, his cheeks resembled that of everlasting flames; a hue of burning red that seemed to spread across the expanse of his skin with no end in sight. Your lips twitched and curved up into a jubilant smile as the visible warmth latched onto his ears, going as far as to creep along the exposed skin of his neck.
Oikawa’s lips tightened; an attempt to quell the rising embarrassment that flooded forth.
“How on earth was I ‘mad suspicious’?” He bent his fingers as he quoted you, arching a brow smoothly, scrutinising gaze upon your face. “I was just standingthere!”
You laughed, recounting the anxiety written into the employee’s face as they served you, occasionally glancing through the large window towards Oikawa. They had even asked youforyour opinion; whether they should actually call the police or not, quickly prompting an awkward explanation that he wasn’t intentionally being suspicious, just waiting patiently for you.
Oikawa grumbled, turning away as his skin upheld its new crimson tint, his volleyball jacket suddenly becoming far too hot to handle. His fingers toyed temporarily with the zipper before pulling it down, fussing with the flaps of the jacket. The sigh that fled from his lips caught your attention rather quickly, though you dropped your gaze to the cracked pavement.
“It shouldn’t be much further.” You could sense his confusion even without looking at him. “Th-the hospital, I mean.”
“Ah, right. It’s just up ahead. I can see it.” Oikawa nodded, hands falling away from the hem of his jacket. “I, uh, don’t think you actually told me what happened this morning… after I left?” The lack of traffic alongside the road allowed his hesitant words to flow through the air easily, drawing a soft hum from your lips.
“Right, I guess I got distracted by the locker incident… thought I told you.” You knew you had forgotten something; it had been bugging you since first class of the day. “Well, when you left we figured we’d go check on him and see if he was ready to eat or at least awake.” You gripped the plastic bag tighter as the short memories faded in and out, such as your father’s bedroom door only slightly ajar.
“We went in and… I didn’t think anything was wrong at first until ‘ma came in right after.” Oikawa slipped his hands into his pockets, listening intently to your words, unfazed by the shakiness in your tone (or so he thought). His hand flexed subconsciously within his pocket, itching to reach out and grasp yours in a comforting hold. “She started panicking because it looked like he’d just been seizing, which hasn’t ever happened before… a-and then we couldn’t wake him up.”
He felt his heart leap up into his throat. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how you would have felt upon discovering your father in such a state. He bit the inside of his cheek, unable to offer any words of consolation.
“‘Ma called an ambulance and then called his parents and his sister… so they weren’t left in the dark, you know?” You lifted your head for what seemed like the first time in forever, sparing your friend a quick, pitiful glance before gazing ahead at the hospital. “Apparently an argument sparked up which was just the icing on the shit cake. But, I’d already left before all that went down; I wasn’t really interested in sitting in another hospital room for god-knows how long…” You pursed your lips, head tilted to the side as you stared ahead, taking in the slow-growing traffic.
“That sounded really bad… it’s not that I don’t want to be there with him—of course, I do—it-it’s just…”
“No, no.” Oikawa interrupted, waving his hand. “I get it. I bet your parents would understand, too. Hospitals can really take it out of a person, even when you’re not the one stuck in the bed.” He bit his tongue, hoping that the words he was mindlessly letting slip were the right ones. He assumed they were after spotting the grateful smile that wandered onto your lips.
“I know it pretty much pales in comparison, but when my nephew was in hospital for a broken leg, it was exhausting just sitting there with him for a couple of hours.” You tilted your head at the mention of said nephew. “You can bet Akiko was beyond the point of exhaustion after all that.” You grimaced, waves of sympathy emanating off of you for his sister.
“Yeah… ‘ma never really got back to sleeping properly after his first admission to hospital…” you sighed, “and that was ages ago.” Oikawa’s brows furrowed, studying the gentle way you peeked down into your bag, carefully readjusting the unhealthy snacks you had—without a doubt—slipped in. A vague curve made your lips twitch for a moment before you looked back up, the curve flattening unhappily.
You couldn’t say you didn’t feel his unmoving gaze, boring holes into the side of your head; that would be lying. You simply chose not to acknowledge it, fearing you would be reduced to a puddle of embarrassment; uncharacteristically bashful beneath his watchful eyes. With the rampant thoughts and racing voices that trekked through your mind, you would have spilled instantly. The second you met those anxious pools of earthy hues, reminiscent to that of autumnal leaves—speckled with gorgeous displays of colour—you would have lost the plot you loosely held together.
Avery awkward silence cruised into the atmosphere around the two of you, though neither you or Oikawa spoke to clear the air. He exhaled deeply, turned his head and followed your line of sight until he was staring at the underwhelming stature of the hospital, an unsettling feeling churning in the pit of his stomach.
Herefused to interrupt the quiet. As the two of you wandered through the small hospital after receiving the room number, close enough for your arms to keep brushing, he didn’t dare speak. From the slight crease of your brows, Oikawa knew you were amidst your thoughts; processing, most likely. Despite the familiarity, your current predicament seemed to require just as much processing as before.
The closer you got to the designated room, the more you began to fidget with the bag in your hand. Oikawa tipped his head towards the faint rustling of the plastic, spotting the anxiety that adorned your features. A mumble itched in his throat, momentarily stealing your attention away from the shining tiles lining the halls.
“You still breathing over there?” Oikawa quipped softly as the two of you slowed to a synchronised halt, eyeing the number engraved into the closed door. You hummed, biting the inside of your cheek. “Sorry, I-I just… you’re very quiet and I was worried…” He sputtered, fingertips grazing over his wrist.
“Mm… I’m okay… f-for now, at least.” You opened the bag and looked over the contents one last time, assuring yourself that you hadn’t missed anything. You blew out a heavy sigh, gripping onto the plastic material before gazing back up at the boy beside you. “Thanks for this, Toru…”
Oikawa’s lips parted swiftly, an onslaught of words on the tip of his tongue only to be reduced to nothing as a hand crept along his clothed forearm. His eyes shot down, staring at your fingers as they wrapped around his limb as best as they could. When you tipped your head, peeking up to check for a response, he smiled. It was a smile so familiar yet so foreign, in the sense that it was stirring about an unfamiliar reaction.
“Quite frankly, I feel you shouldn’t have more of a say in this situation than we do,” a disdainful voice hissed quietly as the two of you entered the room, “considering we’rehisblood relatives.” Oikawa flinched as your grip tightened, briefly glancing down at your hardened expression.
“He’s my husband… surely, that has to count for something?” Your mother fought back in the same hushed tone, seated close by the hospital bed with her hand tightly resting within the sickly man’s. Your grandmother sat on the opposite side of the bed, an arm propped up against the low-hanging window sill as she directed an ugly scowl towards her daughter-in-law. Clearly, there wasn’t an ounce of shame in the old woman’s body as the bitter expression remained upon her face, not once faltering when you and Oikawa entered.
“Hi,” you whispered, slowly removing your mask, “how is he..?”
Your mother turned her head and—despite the warm smile that greeted you—the exhaustion in her eyes was clear as day. She tightened her grip on her husband’s hand, lifting it only slightly for you to see.
“He doesn’t go down without a fight, you know that, sweetheart.” Her tone was shaky, gaze shifting from you to Oikawa slowly. “How was school today, you two?”
A thousand words flew to your tongue, ready to pierce the air, yet they stilled; clinging onto the very tip. An abyssal dread tore open in the depths of your stomach as you silently recounted the day and the many that came before it. There were a multitude of issues you ached to share with her, all revolving around a single person who’d brought more harm than good in only a short matter of time. The nagging guilt in the back of your mind prevented any and every word from escaping. She already had enough on her plate. It would be selfish to try and overshadow the critical condition that tied your father to his hospital bed.
“U-uh, it was alright,” Oikawa sputtered, his free hand wandering up to his nape, “there was a pop quiz in maths but I’m confident we both did fairly well.” You lifted your head as the lie fell smoothly from his lips, subconsciously squeezing his forearm. His eyes met yours sneakily for a moment before he turned his attention back to your mother, a sympathetic frown attached to his features.
“Well, that’s good… I knew I shouldn’t have been too worried,” she hummed, her head tilted back as she gazed at the ceiling, silently whispering another string of prayers; you were certain that particular lot were for your father. Her head dropped back slowly, attention switching back to the resting man. You awkwardly stood by Oikawa, cautious gaze flickering between the three women in the room as you fiddled with the plastic bag. Your grandmother was still hunched over in her chair, maintaining the same unmoving scowl as she glanced at you, not a sliver of guilt behind her thin, wrinkled eyes.
Oikawa shuddered lightly, subconsciously pulling you closer to his side; courtesy of your unrelenting grip on his arm. He never recalled the frail, old lady being so… terrifying with such little effort. From the tiny glance he shot your way, he found that it was a new sight for you as well; her crinkling features ripe with anger, blood no doubt boiling beneath her skin. When she peered away from your mother, scrutinising over the pair of you still standing idly by the door, you dropped your head.
There was hardly any room between you and Oikawa as you stepped even closer, unnerved by the silence and the thick tension that hung heavy in the air. There was a spurt of movement beside you as he readjusted, shifting his weight back and forth from one leg to the other. You were certain his thoughts were nothing more than ‘well, this is awkward…’, a cliche cough spilling from his lips in a futile attempt to clear the air.
“Here, Y/n,” he called softly, stepping away momentarily, “wanna sit?” You looked over as the boy gently tugged an empty chair back to where you stood, visibly cringing at the numbing screech while it pushed against the tile. A soft hum vibrated through your lips that twitched at the corners; seemingly contagious to him and him only as his own smile adorned his lips.
“Thanks.” You whispered, sliding your hand along his forearm as you moved to sit down, only to stop halfway through. “Oh, but… what about you? Don’t you wanna sit?” He shook his head, dropping his hands to your shoulders to gently guide you into the chair.
“I’ll be fine, strawberry,” he whispered to the back of your head, just loud enough for you to hear, “you looked tired. I wanted you to sit down and relax for a moment, at least.” You caved and nodded along to his words, grateful for his presence that radiated a soothing sense of serenity in large, comforting waves. It was just what you needed to keep from succumbing to the pressuring knots growing and tangling under your grandmother’s influence. You noted that he’d kept one hand atop your shoulder, occasionally giving it a reassuring squeeze to quell any rising nerves.
“Mama,please…” At the exasperated plea that sounded from your mother’s helpless lips, you peeked up. “We don’t need to have another argument right now… especially not in front of the children.”
Oikawa’s mind itched, an instinctive need to let one of his infamous quips slip out tickling the back of his throat. We’re not ‘children’ anymore, he would’ve chirped in any other situation. Your highschool days were nearly over; that had to count for something, right?
“I am not your mother, Hanae.” She shot back, pupils thinning even further with each slow, irate blink. “And we’ll have this conversation as many times as I please, whether these two are here or not. That is my son in that bed; my son hooked up to all of those nasty machines.” You chose to sink back into your chair, cradling the plastic bag in your lap as you patiently awaited your mother’s interjection. Usually, she’d have no qualms about biting back, one to quickly jump from one point to the next with incredible precision.
Oikawa’s brows furrowed as he peered between the two older women, stares intense enough to pierce the strongest of metals with their heat.
“So, you agree that the machines are ‘nasty’?”
“Clearly.” Her hardened stare softened when she glanced down at her son. “I don’t want him to need them 24/7 like he did the whole time you were in Tokyo. But… if it keeps him alive, I don’t see an issue with it.”
“Kenjitold you he hates them. He told you that if he were ever in this situation again…” Your mother cut herself off, sucking in a deep exhale. “Did you just choose not to acknowledge him then? You do realise that he’s the one who knows what’s best for him, right? Not you.”
“Well,clearly he’s incapable of figuring out what’s ‘best for him’! I mean, you were far from his first choice, Hanae.” You grimaced, attention immediately jumping towards your mother as she stilled, face contorted into horrific shock. “And now you’re trying to take away the only thing keeping him alive?”
“H-hey, maybe we should all calm down?” Oikawa called out cautiously, a hand hovering in the air. He visibly flinched when your grandmother whipped around, eyeing his figure up and down meticulously. “I-I mean… maybe hereandnow isn’t the best place for one of your ‘discussions’..?” He worded it carefully, eyes darting back and forth between the three ladies now staring at him, and yourself—too busy readjusting the treats in the plastic bag to notice.
He swallowed thickly, fingers moving towards the loose seams of his jacket.
“I-I just don’t think he would like the first thing he hears when he wakes up to be the most important people in his life arguing.” There was yet another silence that passed through the small room, somehow shoving away the overwhelming scent of cleanliness and leaving behind a bitter aftertaste. He watched as the old lady—once soft and benevolent—hunched forward, glaring daggers straight at his anxious figure.
“I don’t recommend getting yourself caught up in family matters that don’t even concernyou,boy.” You raised your head gradually, fingers falling away from the unreliable straps of the bag. “Last time I checked, you weren’t apart of this family. Unless there’s something else you’ve decided to hide from me, Hanae?” She spat angrily, bouncing her frustrations back towards your irritated mother. Oikawa could only stand in silence, astonished by the declaration of harsh facts. Your grandmother had always considered his family—and Iwaizumi’s, too—as an extension of her own, even without the same blood running through their veins—through hisveins.Hell, she’d always be the first to volunteer babysitting because she adored the three of you.
He didn’t know exactly what had contorted her mind, nor what had rotted the kindness in her heart and replaced it with suffocating toxicity. He could only assume it had something to do with the sickly male shifting about in his hospital bed.
“Toru’s right.” You interjected, saving your mother some breath. “And, with all due respect, I think you should watch what you’re saying.” You wanted to sink back into your chair, to hide behind the wall of muscle stood beside you; at least that’s what your rapidly thrumming heart desired. It was a wild animal, caged behind rows of fragile ribs with a burning desire for freedom; untameable.
She whipped her head around, lip curled in distaste, “I should watch what I’m saying? Where are your manners, Y/n? Speaking out of turn like that?” You bit your tongue accidentally as you looked away, slowly stepping back towards your chair. “I suppose it’s as they say; like mother, like daughter. It’s no surprise you’re taking pages from herbook.”
Why were you backing down? Oikawa’s gaze followed you in confusion as you sat once more, avoiding all contact with the others in the room. You had just harboured an admirable amount of confidence that sent a rhythm of tingles along his spine, confidence that had disappeared as quickly as it arose.
“Kenji?” Briefly intrigued, he picked his gaze up from your slouched figure and back towards the frail women, an unusual smile curved upon her lips; a stark contrast to the uncouth tones she’d thrown about moments before. The man was shifting, groaning and grumbling beneath ragged breaths. “Oh, sweetheart… I cannot believe your ‘wonderful’ wife wants to take away everything keeping you here with me…”
“Okay,mama,” Hanae called out, standing from her chair. “If you’re not doneyet,we can stand outside until you are. I’m not about to have this argument again, especially in front of Kenji after all he’s been through… I think Y/n deserves some time with her father anyway.”
“Foolish of you to think that I’ll be leaving my darling’s side.” The words she spat, full of resentment, practically bounced off your mother. Hanae was fed up, that much was true.
“Mama, come on.” The third lady who had been sitting silently in the room spoke up, hand resting wrapping around her mother’s arm, shielding whatever mottled skin was there from view. Her grip, although seemingly gentle, was tight; just shy of bruising. Without much else to say, the bitter elder got up on unsteady legs and followed the two women outside, the door closing behind them.
Oikawa stared for a moment, processing the entire situation in a devastating amount of time. His heart hurt, his head hurt. For himself, for Kenji but mostly for you.
“I-I’m so sorry about all that, Toru…” you murmured guiltily, lifting your head once more as a look of embarrassment landed upon your pained features. “I didn’t think that—“
“Don’t worry about it. Everyone copes with stress differently, I guess…” he shrugged it off as best as he could, allowing whatever anxiety remained teetering on his shoulders to slide gracefully off the side for the time being. “Anyway, he’s awake now. Let’s show him what you brought, okay? Forget about everything else for a little while…”
You shot up abruptly, eyes glazing over the man struggling to sit upright beneath several otherwise light covers. Oikawa trailed behind you as you shuffled over to the bedside, quietly calling out to your father as a means of comfort. You handed the bag off to Oikawa—who noted the way the straps were nearly severed, held together by a few loose strands of worn plastic—and grabbed onto your father’s shoulder, slowly helping him adjust to the bed.
“How-how do you feel?” You stuttered out and, by the downward pull of your brows, Oikawa could easily sense your nerves regarding his answer. Kenji blinked irregularly, trying to rid of the haze in his eyes as a hand blindly searched for yours. “I’m right here. Do you feel alright?” His hand, much larger than your own, wrapped snug around your fingers, a content hum vibrating through his body. His hum was soon cut off by a harrowing coughing fit.
You sucked in a sharp breath, pulling your hands away instinctively as the man lurched forwards, chest convulsing painfully as he wheezed and gasped. Your hands fell to your lap, a dreaded sense of helplessness fogging your mind; there wasn’t a single thing you could do to ease his pain, to make it all go away—and it hurt. It hurt, realbad. So much so, you hadn’t even registered the hand that had become attached to your shoulder, squeezing it unbearably tight.
“Hah…” He breathed out when the fit weakened. “Never felt better, kiddo.”
“You’re not funny…”
“No? I-I think I’m quite hilarious,” he grinned back weakly, resting his arm against the thin railing protruding from the side of the bed. Your eyes raked over each prominent vein that branched beneath thin, sickly skin, bulging uncomfortably in the light.
“What do you think, young man?” He called out, gaining Oikawa’s attention immediately. “I’m…-I am funny, right?” With a nervous quirk of his lips, Oikawa laughed, giving into the older man’s unspoken request to follow along.
“Funniest man I’ve ever had the pleasure to know,” he admitted, noting how you paused to glare at him from the corner of your eye.
“Don’tencouragehim,please.”
“Oh, sweetheart, relax…” Kenji wheezed, lifting a heavy hand to your head. You winced temporarily as it dropped haphazardly against your hair, rough fingers digging in as far as they could. All in a loving manner, of course. “Say, what’s in your little bag there?” You shifted away, gently placing his hand back into the bed beside his restless figure as you turned to reach for Oikawa. He carefully handed off the bag to you, his free hand tracing over one of your shoulders towards the other.
“We stopped by that little convenience store on the way here… y-you know? The one you used to take us to when we were little?” You toyed with the thin strips of plastic, lips tugging upwards as your father made a noise of excitement, fond of the distant memory. “We got you a few things…but… now that I think about it, you probably can’t even eat them, huh?”
Oikawa gave your head a sympathetic pat.
“I’m sure he’ll still appreciate the thought, whether or not he can eat them.” You smiled, subconsciously leaning into his touch as his comforting words spilled from lips to ears.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard… a more c-correct statement in my en-tire life.” Your father croaked, stuttering and stumbling over a few words and occasionally pausing to find breath. Although your lips were curved upwards into a pretty little smile, the sadness shone through clear as day. In spite of that, to maintain your father’s happiness, you slowly began to pick out each sweet treat one at a time; Oikawa noted how animated—how euphoric—you grew as the exchanges continued.
He pulled your grandmother’s chair over to sit beside you, elbows resting against his knees as he held in his chin in his hands; only to shift quickly after, seeking a more comfortable position. He leaned over his favoured side of the chair—the right side, aka;your side. Oikawa’s gaze switched frequently between you and Kenji, scanning for the ill man’s reactions to each hidden treat you removed from the bag. Each one was seemingly brighter than the last, etching one of equal width onto your own lips. Occasionally, when he wasn’t stuck in stillness by the silencing grin of adoration inching further into his cheeks, he would offer up a laugh at your father’s jokes, only to fall quiet when your elbow launched out and gently nudged him.
“You always used to get this mochi, right?” You hummed, crumpling up the plastic bag and dropping it by your feet as you brought out the final package. “Why was it always this gross off-brand?”
Kenji, feigning shock, took the small package with trembling hands, “they aren’t gross! You little monster… th-these are a delicacy!”
“Toru? You have to agree with me on this one, right?” You turned to face him, a wisp of a smile upon your face. Kenji also spared him a quick glance, a teasing glint in his eyes.
“Sorry, Sir,” he sighed, cracking a soft grin as you grabbed onto his forearm with exaggerated excitement. “This off-brand mochi was the worst.” Kenji tossed his head back against his pillows, a string of broken cackles drifting into the air as you directed an ‘aggressive’ point in his direction.
“See? I was right! Your taste buds have always been messedup.”
His laughter fell into a sickening fit of coughing, soon becoming hand-in-hand with heart-wrenching gasps for air. His smile was long gone, vein-riddled hand reaching for the bed’s railing for a tiny sense of stability. Your figure went rigid, grip tightening around Oikawa’s forearm as your eyes flickered about. The same flood of hopelessness, dreaded by both teenagers, overwhelmed the room in a mere matter of seconds. Monitors beeped, a tiny red light blinked angrily, a flurry of feet stomped about outside of the door.
In that moment… every single sound… no matter how quiet or loud, how seemingly insignificant; they all merged. You wanted it all to stop, you wanted everything and everyone to just shut up. You wanted to go back to those few moments prior; where the three of you—Oikawa, your father, yourself—were all happily joking and pointing out different snacks.
Speaking of… with the arrival of the nurses, the snacks were cast aside without a single moment of hesitation, clattering to the floor and forgotten amidst the haste.
“I’m sorry but may I ask for you two to wait outside with the rest of Mr L/n’s visitors?” A nurse asked softly, guiding you and Oikawa towards the door with cautious, hovering hands.
“Y-yeah, sure thing,” Oikawa nodded, noting that amongst all the movement, you still held onto him, wide eyes flickering back and taking in the messy scene on display. “Strawberry? Hey, come on… we’d be better out here while they help him.”
“…Y/n..?” His fingers ghosted over your knuckles, cringing inwardly at the uncomfortably tight squeeze your hand had on his skin. Slowly, he pulled you out of the room, still caught within your daze. With one hand, he carefully lifted the straps of his mask over his ears, reaching over to assist you with your own. Your hands moved mindlessly, without direction; simply trailing up to meet his as they crept across your face, fixing the strange crinkles of the surgical mask.
“Y/n, hey… you can hear me, right?” He whispered, hands hesitantly finding solace against the bottom of your jaw, trying to bring your fixation back towards him. “He’ll be alright, I promise.”
You blinked once. Then twice. Then three times for good measure, gradually allowing yourself to adjust. He seemed unnerved—only slightly—when all you could offer him was a broken stare, eyelids twitching subtly as you fought the urge to blink once more. You knew that as soon as your eyes closed, no matter how long you chose to embrace the brief darkness that would follow, the second you opened them they would be lined with stinging tears. Overwhelming surges of emotion sent you into the boy’s open arms, fingers twisting and squeezing at the fabric of his shirt.
“H-he’s in so much p-pain, T-Toru…” you hiccuped, forehead pressed right into his chest. Oikawa’s hands hovered over the moving ridges of your shoulder blades before dropping down against your back, one quickly trailing up towards the back of your head. You continued to mumble and cry, a crackling voice shifting in tandem with the unsteady shaking of your body.
He dropped his head to the crook of your neck, ignoring the uncomfortable strain of his back and the slow-growing, damp patch against his chest.
“I know, I know…” He closed his own eyes, trying to blink away the few tears desperately clinging to his lashes. “God… I know, Y/n.” His gaze flickered away from the wall he stood by, soon finding the guilty honey-hued eyes watching your sobbing figure from afar. A hint of a smile, via trembling lips, danced upon your mother’s lips, grateful for his presence as he practically cradled you in his arms. In a brief matter of seconds, she lifted her mask from her chin and placed it back over her nose, entering the room with long strides.
Oikawa’s attention swiftly returned to you at the muffled gasps and intense shaking that overcame your body, vibrating through his limbs with a sympathetic ache. Despite the incessant longing to keep you wrapped in his arms, he gently pulled you out of his chest, looking down at your tear-stained face as he removed your mask. God, he hated seeing you in such a state; it was as if someone had just ripped his heart out. He fought every pull in his body, he fought the instinct to carefully cup your puffy cheeks within his soft palms.
Your weeping drew silent, though it was far from over; shoulders shifting abnormally, body still racked with unsteady shudders.
“Y/n,breathe, okay?” He whispered into the crown of your head. “I know it’s hard but I need you to focus on me, alright?”
“I-I can’t… h-he… he—“
“I know, strawberry,” he interrupted quietly, pulling his mask to his chin, hoping that the use of the cutesy nickname would ease your nerves. “But you need to be okay first… I’m right here, look at me, okay? Look at me and we’ll do this together.” You nodded shakily, following as he breathed in deeply through his nose and out through his mouth. Your hands—much smaller than his—draped weakly over his fingertips, struggling against the internal embarrassment dwelling in your system, demanding you avert your gaze. You hated the sense of fragility; the weakness that overcame you as his gaze settled and refused to move from your face.
“You’re doing so well, Y/n,” he hummed, smiling softly at you. “Don’t pay any mind to anything else, alright? Just me. Just us.”
“I’m s-sorry, I-I…”
“What the heck are you apologising for, huh?” He quirked a brow, allowing a hushed laugh to pass through his lips. When your panic seemed to calm, leaving ragged whimpers and sniffles in its wake, he frowned. “Y/n… don’t apologise… you haven’t done anything wrong.”
You didn’t respond with anything other than a quick step closer to his hunched figure, hesitantly wrapping your arms around his midsection. The floor seemed to sway beneath your feet, knees weak and wobbly urging a tighter grip on the boy you so pathetically clung to.
“Y/n…” he whispered, once again dropping his head to your shoulder, lips pulled taut as they sat against the thin fabric of your school shirt. Gradually, Oikawa backed up into the nearby wall, sliding down onto the floor with you snug in his embrace.
“I’ve got you.” His eyelids fell heavy, closing temporarily at the gradual relaxation of your limbs. One hand moved up to the back of your head, holding you even closer (if it were possible). “I’ve got you…”
extra sides;
everyone in the vbc (aside from iwaizumi) is under the impression that oikawa and y/n are on a date
when they were little, Kenji would take the trio to the convenience store every friday afternoon.
yes, he only ever eats crappy off brands
oikawa tends to make a lot of promises he can’t keep.
i am so sorry for the wait lmao <3
taglist —[]
taglist is closed! please do not ask to be added!
(i will be removing those that are unable to be tagged next chapter <3)
Or at least, you both refuse to believe that what you were usually doing together were things that were typically done by people dating or in a relationship.
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.
request: Hello! I found your blog and really love your work and I was wondering if you could make a oikawa x reader oneshot of him being jealous. Like some guy(s) is/ (are) flirting with the reader and Oikawa gets jealous and things. I really never find one of oikawa being jealous and things. If you can’t do it that’s okay. I hope you have a wonderful day. Thank you. (With the (s) and (are) I’m just gonna let you do as you wish if you won’t more then one guy or not idk srry)
a/n: i was gonna make this nsfw but honestly i like it better this way, and hopefully you do too :) but if y’all want this in a smutty version, i will gladly oblige lol
toru oikawa
- oikawa is a fairly confident person as most may know
- some may even say he’s overly confident or possibly even conceited
- but you don’t see it that way
- you just see a guy who’s comfortable in his own skin and takes pride in his abilities
- and because of oikawa’s confidence, he’s not typically one to get jealous very easily
- maybe a bit defensive, or slightly possessive
- but never fully jealous
- until he meets tetsuro kuroo for the first time that is
- kuroo happens to take quite a liking to you
- and let’s just say oikawa isn’t happy about that
- at all
of course you have shown up to the huge volleyball tournament your boyfriend is currently taking part in, you wouldn’t miss it for the world. you absolutely adore watching oikawa play because you get to witness a side of him that you don’t normally get to see. a more serious and focused side. a side of him solely driven by determination and desire, and you quite like seeing such passion physically radiate from his skin as he plays. it’s captivating really, so captivating that you don’t even notice the presence of the tall figure moving closely beside you until his arm accidentally brushes against yours.
“oh, my bad. i was just trying to move closer to get a better view of the game.” the stranger says. he’s tall, dark hair, slender yet muscular build. his hazel eyes are looking down at you apologetically as he gives you a quick smile and you return him a smile as well.
“no worries. you play?” you ask, taking in the man’s appearance. he’s wearing a volleyball uniform so you don’t even know why you asked that, the answer blatantly obvious. but you figured it would be a nice way to make conversation nonetheless.
“i do, i’m a middle blocker. supposed to play the winning team of this game actually. that’s why i came to watch.” he says tilting his head down to the court where your boyfriend is currently playing. “i’m tetsuro by the way, but you can call me kuroo. or whatever you prefer.” he turns his attention back to you, holding out his right hand for you to shake. you take his hand in yours, shaking it firmly.
“i’m y/n, nice to meet you kuroo.” you say kindly before turning your attention back to the game that you had temporarily forgotten about. you lock eyes with oikawa who’s looking up at you with an expression that you can’t quite read. but what you do know is he does not look happy despite the fact that his team had just scored a point, giving them a five point lead in a round that can win them the whole game. you frown a bit, confused as to why he’s upset.
“you know him or something?” kuroo asks you, raising an eyebrow as he speaks.
“who oikawa? yeah, i know him very well. he’s my boyfriend.” you respond and there’s a slight glint of disappointment in kuroo’s eyes.
“ahh i see, should’ve known a pretty girl like you wouldn’t be single.” kuroo sighs and you can’t help but blush at the nice compliment.
“haha, thank you. but yes, i’m happily taken.” you smile, glancing down to oikawa who still looks somewhat frustrated.
“i’ve heard from mutual friends that oikawa can be quite the handful. is that true?” kuroo asks genuinely.
“mm, i suppose. he can be complicated sometimes, he’s got a very unique personality. but it’s nothing i can’t handle. i think we’re really good together.” you defend your boyfriend and kuroo flashes you a smirk.
“he’s a lucky dude, that oikawa. you’re stunning and you seem like you have a great head on your shoulders.” kuroo flirts and again you feel yourself start to blush. it’s not that you’re actually interested in this guy. sure, he’s attractive and all, but your heart is with oikawa and it always will be. it’s just that compliments always seem to fluster you, no matter who they’re from.
oikawa can spot your blush and the way you’re smiling and giggling while speaking to kuroo from his spot on the court. he has no clue what it means, but an intense sensation of heat is building in his chest and he suddenly feels the urge to punch something. better yet, punch someone.he’s up to serve and if anyone in the gym hadn’t known something was up with oikawa’s mood before, they most definitely notice it now. oikawa is infamous for having an insanely powerful serve, even when he isn’t currently seething over the hot shot stranger flirting with his girlfriend in the stands. so you can only imagine the sheer amount of power he serves the ball with while his anger builds within him as he watches you and the dark haired guy from the corner of his eye. the harsh sound of his skin meeting the smooth leather of the ball is like something you’ve never heard before. the frown on his face as he hits it, his eyebrows knitted closely together and his bottom lip tucked tightly between his teeth, it’s clear that he’s mad. really mad. and the sound the ball makes when it smacks the floor on the other side of the net, seemingly not even taking half a second to get there, is gut retching. you’re sure that if anyone had even dared to receive that, they may as well have been asking for death. your eyes go wide and the stadium goes quiet for a solid second before cheers and chants of oikawa’s name echo all throughout the building. that was the winning point, and to the outside viewer they may just suspect that oikawa served the ball like that to solidify his teams’ victory. but you know there’s a deeper routed reason behind that unnecessarily powerful serve.
“sheesh, does your boyfriend always serve like that at game point? definitely gonna have to warn my teammates about that.” kuroo says, clearly in awe over the hit.
“he’s usually powerful, but not like that. that was different. something’s wrong.” you realize and begin to make your way over to the stairs of the stands so you could figure out what’s got your boyfriend so obviously distraught.
“well it was nice meeting you y/n, thanks for keeping me company throughout the game.” kuroo calls after you and you turn to face him.
“same to you kuroo.” you respond, not knowing that oikawa is glaring at the two of you aggravatedly as he waits for you to finish making your way down the stairs.
“what was that about?”
“what was that about?”
you two ask in unison as soon as you’re in each other’s presence.
“you first.” you say, looking into oikawa’s eyes with anticipation. he rolls his eyes at you, placing one hand on his hip and the other on the bridge of his nose.
“are you serious? you really have no idea of why i’m upset? no ideas at all?” he sighs, removing his hand from his nose and you frown at him in confusion.
“no? did i do something?” you ask. your voice soft with guilt even though you have no clue what you even feel guilty for.
“that dude, fucking abercrombie model over there. he was flirting with you the entire game. it was hard to concentrate when he was practically sucking your face right in front of me.” oikawa huffs dramatically and you can’t help but let out a small laugh.
“you mean kuroo? he does kind of look like an abercrombie model huh?” you giggle and oikawa looks like he’s about to blow a fuse.
“you think this is funny? well it’s not y/n. it was seriously annoying watching him make you smile and laugh like that. what’d you say his name is? kuroo? i hate him. i hate kuroo.” oikawa pouts.
“oikawa babe, are you jealous?” you ask with a teasing smile and he shoots you the most intense look he’s ever given you.
“me? why would i be jealous. literally what is there to be jealous of? like ok yeah, he has cool hair. and he’s tall. and he’s got a nice face. and his volleyball team is actually pretty good. but that does NOT mean i’m jealous y/n. i’m never jealous. ever.” oikawa huffs and you find it painfully difficult not to full on laugh at him.
“i hate to break it to you pretty boy, but you sound a bit jealous.” you say, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“yeah whatever.” he mumbles, lifting your hand to his face so he can nuzzle into your touch a bit. “i guess i just felt intimidated by him, and i’ve never really felt like that before so i didn’t know how to react. i just got really angry, as i’m sure you saw.” he continues, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. “but i trust you, and i know you weren’t flirting back. you were just being friendly because that’s who you are, and i love that about you. so i apologize for overreacting like that, that was kind of stupid.”
your heart.
“it wasn’t stupid toru, everyone falls victim to jealousy at least once. i’m just glad to see that you care enough to get that upset.” you laugh lightly.
“well duh, i’m too in love with you to not get upset over that.” he says, placing a finger under your chin before lifting your face up for a kiss. the kiss is passionate, far too passionate to be happening in a gym full of tons of people but that’s oikawa for you. he couldn’t care less about what other people think, especially when he’s with you. when he’s with you, it’s just you and him. no one else matters.
well…
“that was a killer serve oikawa, hope to see it again when we play you in a little bit.” a familiar voice rings from beside you. you disconnect the kiss and open your eyes, greeted by a very smug looking kuroo. you thought you had seen oikawa reach peak anger earlier, but you stand corrected. if looks could kill, kuroo would be long deceased by now, already buried six feet under. but kuroo is completely unbothered and just walks away with that trying smirk of his.
“oh i’ll gladly serve like that again, right at your face.” oikawa whispers with a sadistic grin.
it’s safe to say that kuroo’s team does not win this game.
I named the child kai because it bothers me to put s/n or c/n
When your son told you about his idea to surprise Tōru for his birthday you instantly encouraged him to do so. You knew his surprise would make your husband very happy.
You didn’t know a bit of Japanese and you couldn’t trust the internet translator either, so you ended up asking Oikawa’s friends for help.
For weeks you and your son were zoom with Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki. The trio was in charge of teaching Kai how to pronounce the words that she wanted to dedicate to her father.
You were really grateful to the three of them for taking the time to be able to help them and for having the patience to teach Kai. Then you will be in charge of sending them alfajores and dulce de leche as a thank you.
Tōru’s birthday had finally arrived and you could feel your little one’s nerves because he was too quiet while he helped you prepare breakfast for the birthday boy.
“You don’t have to be nervous, Kai” you tousled it affectionately “You practiced a lot so it will be fine”
After that, the two of them headed up to your bedroom. You smiled when you saw your husband, even sleeping he looked beautiful.
“Tōru” you called him and placed the tray carefully on the night table “Tōru” you pricked his cheek.
“Mmm”
“Happy birthday, Tōru”
When Oikawa opened his eyes he met your smile. He pulled his hand out from under the covers to take yours and pull your body with him into the house, making you laugh. It was music to his ears. A very good way to start his birthday.
“Come on Kai, don’t you want to say hi to your dad?” You called him when you saw him stay at the door.
The boy took a step forward and looked at his hands before looking at you two.
“Happy birthday, dad” you nodded with a smile making the little one feel more confident “You are the best! I love you!”
Tōru started crying when he heard his son speak in Japanese. Of course, Kai didn’t have a perfect pronunciation but he didn’t care about that, it meant a lot to him that his son will take the time to learn those words in his native language.
You weren’t surprised to see your husband with tears in his eyes. You knew he regretted not having enough time to teach him Japanese so at this moment he will treasure it forever.
“Did I say it wrong? Didn’t you like it?” Kai asked nervously thinking that that was the reason for Oikawa’s tears.
“No, no, no, you did it perfectly” he said as he awkwardly got up from the bed and ran to hug him “Thank you very much”
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